Remember that time when (fill in the blank) and your perception of reality was forcibly overturned? Art has a distinctive knack for that, and Newburgh-based artist Matthew Lusk has a clear agenda to invert your world. His immersive show “Encyclopedia of Light (Today in Two Parts)” at Elijah Wheat Showroom in Newburgh, on view through December 1, encompasses their entire riverfront space and is among the best shows you will land upon in the region this season. The exhibition is both an adventure in installation-engineering (a gravity-defying scene) and a multi-act Surrealist spectacle of witty rebellion laced with intense themes throughout (a thought-provoking experience).
Lusk’s series of eight uniform-sized square sculptures are the main event: started in 2016 ongoing to present, they hang from the ceiling suspended by chains, covered with various light fixtures underneath that glow with a commercial lighting store ambience. Above, the squares are loaded with sculptural mash-ups featuring reclaimed and salvaged items, each of which includes a scarecrow-like character (ghostly depictions of the artist himself) surrounded by bizarre arrangements of atypical objects (many of which I can barely identify). One such outlandish tableau vivant is Encyclopedia of Light #14 (2016–2024) where a figure in a green bomber jacket with a head made of twisted hose holds a rake with at least a dozen impaled hotdogs and surrounded by a wood fence structure as a pink crate full of lightbulbs sits off the side (compellingly bizarre).
Another vignette Encyclopedia of Light #3 (2024) is overloaded with sculptural structures that expand well beyond the platform while the area underneath includes retro wallpaper with happy little mushrooms (so cheery) as four nostalgic lighting fixtures and two plastic hands hang down, one holding a silver bucket and the other a brown tray (again, compellingly bizarre). The lurching watermelon-headed figure in Encyclopedia of Light #5 (2024) is a fan favorite. Take a moment to spin around, and it’s a wild whirlwind of floating commodities caught in a blow-out at Home Depot, where mops, silver garbage cans, mini-Adirondack chairs, buckets, chains, flashlights and other miscellaneous objects (plus a plastic skinned chicken in the mix just for the hell of it) take us into some other realm altogether.
While the ready-made mayhem in the first room is a dose of hilarity, the paintings and sculptural installations toward the back of the space disclose another aspect of the so-called “encyclopedia of light” conversation, albeit heavy in tone. A series of large black oil and enamel panel paintings with net patterns including Night-Fishing (Morning Star) (2024) and Night-Fishing (Night Shift) (2024) are an homage to folks in Gaza who fish from their boats under cover of night to avoid being murdered. Two piles of bricks (some of them painted bright colors) comprise the Phantom Limbs (2024) sculpture, also a nod to his fraternal twin brother. The sobering Do Not Resuscitate (2024) is a silver salvaged lead sheet that indicates the cold command in perforated text. No matter, Lusk keeps us chuckling and querying the essence of things amid his chaotic revelry, and the aftereffect is sheer fun-ness. A master at orchestrating an inverted existence that glows in its frivolity, Lusk’s show is a must-see.
This article appears in November 2024.
