Zach Cleve
Artist Statement

As social animals, our relatively convoluted ways of communicating and relating to one another seem too often to backfire or fall short. These paintings reflect this discord and underlying detachment in our day-to-day lives. My work addresses a desire to escape the seeming inevitability of being enmeshed in the proverbial social fabric. This leads the people in my paintings to brazenly defy, as if in a stupor, the presence of others. In doing this, they thereby rid themselves of the consequent need and expectation to interact and engage in social rituals. “Fugue” carries with it the most subdued agitation, yet the most profound discomfort. Uncertainty and avoidance manifest themselves in the fixation the characters have on their own hands, obsessively performing tasks or gripping aimlessly (a leitmotif throughout all of the paintings). There is a dull listlessness in “Fever Dream,” in stark contrast to the intense focus displayed by the figure in the foreground (he embodies both of these states simultaneously – paradoxically). Decaying, moldering structures succumbing to inevitability have long been an aesthetic obsession of mine. “Moulder” is crucial to the idea of a progression of events following this profound social breakdown. The deterioration of their surroundings mirrors the interior collapse of the characters, and they at last seem wholly at ease with their self-imposed predicament. “Vigil” is an ironic misnomer upon initial consideration (yet ultimately fitting) – what purpose does standing guard serve to people in the throes of such an intense detachment that they are incapable of perceiving their fellow beings? Perhaps their malaise condemns them to a primal terror of the unknown.  “Lapse” concludes the matter - solace is found in total withdrawal. The manner in which I chose to employ the paint is in direct response to the mood and atmosphere of each piece. Drips, brush marks and abstraction are meant to elevate the tension and drama. The most extreme example is found in “Fever Dream,” with the violent flattening of space in the background in stark contrast to the softly painted realism in the upper half of the figure in the foreground, and the frenzy of brush marks running through the floor. Essentially, this tendency toward solipsism is what occurs in these paintings: people engaged in a slow, nightmarish waltz through life, writhing past one another, oblivious to all but themselves. Kafka summarized an intense disconnect of this nature in his diaries: “Incapable of living with people, of speaking. Complete immersion in
myself, thinking of myself. Apathetic, witless, fearless – I have nothing to say to anyone – never." The people in my paintings falter in response to being overwhelmed, whether due to social ineffectualness or the emptiness that haunts virtually any member of a contemporary society.

Emma Farber
Artist Statement


It seems to me that many people, myself included, see life as some sort of journey with specific, self-defined periods. In my case, I categorize the time I returned to school in the fall of 2009 to the present as my "St. Ambrose years", late 2008-2009 as the "Modern Woodman year", and 2006-2008 as the "Black Hawk College years". Periods of school and work are somewhat obvious "chapters" in life, but inside of those lurk smaller instances that require labeling. Little--or sometimes big--obstacles present themselves and we must find a way to overcome them in order to advance. Using personal experiences to craft my work, I create fictional environments that serve as a metaphor for the time we spend working through problems during each stage of life.

Roadblocks to advancement are not found solely during periods of hardship or negativity. Obstacles can and do occur during times of productivity and contentedness, which is why each scene presents its barriers with a unique sensibility. Melancholy, surprise, foreboding, and even joy are all reasonable states in which roadblocks to a goal may exist. For example, "Zoning" represents a quest for order and organization; it's a state in which I find myself perpetually under construction. This is in no way negative, and I personally relate it to a warm sunset- something pleasant and hopefully soon completed.

When faced with a daunting problem, I first look to see if there might be an easy way out. I attempted to communicate this tendency in "Guidance", which depicts a recent difficulty (my car's muffler fell off this summer) as the starting point. Not knowing anything about cars, I turned to my dad-- a mechanic-- for help. He told me exactly what needed to be replaced, where I needed to go, and how much the repairs would cost. In the painting the damselflies act as guides (much like my dad) that point the viewer to the boat- the best option for getting through the swampy area. The presence of an obvious solution is repeated in "Take Shelter", where keys (most likely for one of the vehicles parked in the field) are made readily available. They are hard to miss due to the flare of light emitted from the pipe, and their possession suggests that the viewer will be able to find safety before the storm hits.

If I can't find a solution immediately, I instead focus my attention on finding comfort or entertaining distractions while stuck in a current situation. That's why I added a bottle of champagne in "Zoning", a frenzy of lively items in "Remnants", and everything found in "Emily". Though these particular items may be uniquely pleasing to me (I somehow doubt it!), I believe that many viewers can relate to the idea of seeking people or things that make life worth while during an otherwise trying time.