"In terms of concealment, I was curious about how we would read these figures under such terms. When we are not privy to their thoughts and actions. I thought it would be exciting to open up the potential to multiple readings and ultimately have no finite answer. Admittedly, from a painterly perspective, it also allowed more room for exploration in material and visual manipulation. It was exciting to consider the figures’ subjectivity under different terms." When Timothy Lai said this in Juxtapoz in 2024, I couldn't help but think of this line when looking at his newest body of work, Still. Yet. Still., opening at Jack Barrett this week. In the context of the quote above, Lai was working with curtains, whether as concealing the character or concealing the action of a room. It was an effective emotional tool, a mystery on the canvas, that sort of provided a distance between the viewer and the work itself.
In Still. Yet. Still., Lai is working again in the idea of what it is we conceal, but obscuring even the ability to read the distinctions of figurative and abstraction. There are some hints, a dog, a man, an arm outstretched, but the density of illegible figuration is stunning. It is like the articulation of a past dream and the process of understanding the depths of memory. —Evan Pricco
