SONGS
of aDECOY
Location
112 Madison st, New York City (Galerie Santangelo)
Opening Reception
May 15th 6-10pm
On View
May 16th - 17th, 10am to 6pm
Artists
Aydan Huseynli, info
Cameron Lasson, info
Jonathan Dinetz, info
Kira Wilson, info
Rusty Adelstein, info
Hi-res images
Press release
Songs of a Decoy presents the work of five emerging artists: Aydan Huseynli, Cameron Lasson, Jonathan Dinetz, Kira Wilson, and Rusty Adelstein in their NYCxDESIGN debut.
One autumn day, a small squirrel family came across a very special tree. This tree stood twice as tall as the others in the neighborhood, with bark unusually smooth and needles unusually green. Its towering stature reminded Mrs. Squirrel of the old-growth forests of her youth–a perfect picture of sylvan splendor. She moved her family in promptly afterwards.
The squirrels found their new home to be quite convenient. While other trees sagged and severed in winter storms, theirs stood tall and unmoving. When they left their nuts in the hollows of the tree, they returned to find them heated; sizzling even. Plus, the cell reception was excellent.
One afternoon, an old owl approached the family forebodingly. He warned that their tree might not be what it seems. He said it came to be in an unusual way: delivered in five pieces on huge semi trucks and assembled with a crane. The tree, which should have taken 100 years to grow, manifested in a matter of weeks with a flock of machines and men. He warned the squirrel family that their tree could be demonic.
One autumn day, a small squirrel family came across a very special tree. This tree stood twice as tall as the others in the neighborhood, with bark unusually smooth and needles unusually green. Its towering stature reminded Mrs. Squirrel of the old-growth forests of her youth–a perfect picture of sylvan splendor. She moved her family in promptly afterwards.
The squirrels found their new home to be quite convenient. While other trees sagged and severed in winter storms, theirs stood tall and unmoving. When they left their nuts in the hollows of the tree, they returned to find them heated; sizzling even. Plus, the cell reception was excellent.
One afternoon, an old owl approached the family forebodingly. He warned that their tree might not be what it seems. He said it came to be in an unusual way: delivered in five pieces on huge semi trucks and assembled with a crane. The tree, which should have taken 100 years to grow, manifested in a matter of weeks with a flock of machines and men. He warned the squirrel family that their tree could be demonic.
The squirrels found their new home to be quite convenient. While other trees sagged and severed in winter storms, theirs stood tall and unmoving. When they left their nuts in the hollows of the tree, they returned to find them heated; sizzling even. Plus, the cell reception was excellent.
One afternoon, an old owl approached the family forebodingly. He warned that their tree might not be what it seems. He said it came to be in an unusual way: delivered in five pieces on huge semi trucks and assembled with a crane. The tree, which should have taken 100 years to grow, manifested in a matter of weeks with a flock of machines and men. He warned the squirrel family that their tree could be demonic.
“I’m sick of his conspiracies!” proclaimed Baby Squirrel.
‘Perhaps our tree is a little odd,’ the squirrels admitted to themselves. ‘It does hum strangely from time-to-time. But no tree is perfect,’ Besides, the squirrels found the white noise to be soothing; it reminded Mrs. Squirrel of the wind blowing through the pines in the forests of her youth. ‘It can’t be demonic,’ the squirrels affirmed to each other.
The owl was a kook, he could never know in any meaningful way the delight of living in their tree. He had never experienced the seductively predictable placement of the branches that allowed one to leap from bough to bough in a trance-like rhythm. He had never been soothed by the cool touch of its trunk on his paws after a long day, or cradled in the buzzing warmth of its hollows at night. The squirrels brushed the old owl off. After all, this was their beloved home.
‘Perhaps our tree is a little odd,’ the squirrels admitted to themselves. ‘It does hum strangely from time-to-time. But no tree is perfect,’ Besides, the squirrels found the white noise to be soothing; it reminded Mrs. Squirrel of the wind blowing through the pines in the forests of her youth. ‘It can’t be demonic,’ the squirrels affirmed to each other.
The owl was a kook, he could never know in any meaningful way the delight of living in their tree. He had never experienced the seductively predictable placement of the branches that allowed one to leap from bough to bough in a trance-like rhythm. He had never been soothed by the cool touch of its trunk on his paws after a long day, or cradled in the buzzing warmth of its hollows at night. The squirrels brushed the old owl off. After all, this was their beloved home.
Ambitious in scope and material experimentation,
Songs of a Decoy navigates the interstices of reality and unreality in contemporary Western culture. The artists employ surrealism and temporal collage, inviting reflection on the histories and mythologies emanating from the objects that surround us.
Ambitious in scope and material experimentation, Songs of a Decoy navigates the interstices of reality and unreality in contemporary Western culture. The artists employ surrealism and temporal collage, inviting reflection on the histories and mythologies emanating from the objects that surround us.