By Monique Jones
By Ciara LaVelle
By Jeff Weinberger
By Monique Jones
By Travis Cohen
By Liz Tracy
By Terrence McCoy
One savory piece features the Virgin Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus, along with a smattering of saints, getting fricasseed in a frying pan. In another gut-busting work, holy martyrs are symbolically nuked in a toy oven.
Espectaculo, Spanish for "spectacle" but also a double entendre meaning "sensational ass," is Ferrari's version of Christ and the Apostles making a booty call. The diorama features a small, brightly colored ceramic version of the Last Supper, in which the church fathers are gazing at a black-and-white photo of a fetching brunet lifting her skirts and flashing a voluptuous tush.
In Pan Am's Video Box, Tracey Snelling's installation Mirador has a swagger all its own. Two short videos are projected onto a wall in a continuous loop and feature random snippets of classic film noir.
Seda, Sangre y Sol a miniature billboard piece made of wood, inkjet prints, a DVD player, and screen pummels the skull. Fashioned with painstaking attention to detail, the painted diorama depicts a lurid scene straight from a dime-store pulp magazine. On the billboard, a couple locks lips, a blond rests her head on a shirtless mook's lap, and a hussy in a nightgown, her eyes garishly highlighted with tiny red bulbs, seem to leap out at the spectator.
Next to it is a shoebox version of a rundown hotel, the type often dotting desolate roads in America's boondocks. In its windows, matchbox-size LCD screens show some of the torrid romances and abject emptiness unfolding among tenants of the seedy hole. The work evokes a sense of Rear Window, in which a wheelchair-bound James Stewart peeps in on his neighbors through a pair of binoculars.
Broken Mirador offers a closeup of one of the rooms inside the hotel. In this piece, Snelling peels away a wall to show a made-up bed, a small night table and lamp, and a view of the desert outside the room's window. On the dresser, a TV set plays a video of a sordid Lothario putting the moves on an unwilling woman, while romantic music wafts in the background.
Snelling's voyeuristic work exudes a surreal vibe dripping with poignant haplessness. It plays with the viewer's desire to engage in the emotional mix of the strangers they are intruding upon, as if challenging one not to find seduction in people or things that are broken.