Stephanie Trenchard

Red House Glass Sculpture

Love Box Contemporary Pink Sculptural Box With Crystals. Steel and automotive paint with rock crystals. Randi Grantham was born and raised in Las Vegas...

Live's A Beach 2020 Patinated bronze, high grade automotive paint on a black granite 1 of 1 only. Randi Grantham was born and raised in Las Vegas, Nev...

Lundberg Studios Contemporary Art Glass Vase. Every piece of glass that bears the Lundberg Studios signature represents the finest in contemporary art glass. Crafted by master glass ...

Woman and Child sitting on the bench The sculpture is sitting on the wooden antique box/bench also can be replace for more contemporary look with ...

Eran Shakine Chair 2014 Bronze Sculpture He was born in 1962 in Israel to a French father and Hungarian mother. He has lived in Paris, London and for seven years in New York City, wh...

Cats hatching from egg. Ceramic sculpture, artist signed. Sergio Bustamante is a Mexican Artist and sculptor. Bustamante was born in Culiacan, Sinaloa in 1949 and studied architecture at the University of Guadalajara. Bustamante's first art exhibition showcased...

Sculpture made of mixed media, vinyl & crystal glass. Printed artist signature and edition on underside of the feet. From the edition of 888. Original box included. Certificate o...

Laughter, discomfort, perplexity: these are all plausible reactions to the work by sculptor Cal Lane. The artist’s most recent body of work is an affective assemblage of incongruous parts that, taken together, violate our mental patterns and expectations. Charged with contradictions, metaphor, sexual undertones, and unsettling associations, Lane’s unlikely combinations use absurdity as a way of pointing to western society’s normalized habits and conventions, often with an emphasis on gender and sexuality. For the exhibition Try Me, Lane installs a basketball court in the gallery. The two basketball hoops on opposing walls are embellished with silver-coated frames and lustrous mirrors, which serve as decorative backboards. In place of nets, women’s black lace underwear delicately hang from hoops. A decorative rug stenciled with court lines performs as the court floor. It is a mise-en-scène set in motion by viewer’s reconciliation of the individual parts to the whole, and to their original function. Panties regard themselves in the mirror or perhaps measure up their opponent, which, not without irony, is the mirror image of itself. Themes of gender and sexuality are performed and imagined in the upward voyeuristic gaze of the viewer and the expected swoosh of the ball into the net. This is further elaborated by phallic impressions formed by court lines and their likeness to a work of modernist abstraction—a movement wrought by notions of masculinity. The decorative rug’s connection to femininity and domesticity juxtaposes the rigid geometry. Lane further explores the historical gendering of technology, industry, and war in her series of wallpaper drawings, which depict war submarines on cloud patterned wallpaper. The innocence of the submarine in popular culture and its reality as a phallic war object...

Text by Terence Sharpe There is a moment in Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris (1972) when the character Hari commits suicide by drinking liquid oxygen. As she is not actually a human, but an artificial hybrid product of the mysterious planet and the protagonists’ memories, she heals rapidly and is alive again minutes later. Her choice to take her own life is poignant, seemingly the action of a being becoming aware of its hopeless infinitude. Her realization that while the men will die on the space station or elsewhere, her existence is that of immortality, a deeply alienating notion that causes her to seek her own destruction. The Montreal artist Guillaume Lachapelle has one work that prompts a sense of eternal alienation that echoes Hari’s tragedy. The work greets the viewer with a empty doorway flanked by clinically white bookshelves...

**ANNUAL SUPER SALE TIL APRIL 25th ONLY** *This Price Won't Be Repeated Again This Year - Take Advantage Of It* One of a kind seashells encrusted round mirror. The...

Ardan Özmenoğlu draws from her own experiences as a Turkish woman to explore ideas about history, popular culture, and the formation of a national and cultural identity. Known for he...

Text by Terence Sharpe There is a moment in Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris (1972) when the character Hari commits suicide by drinking liquid oxygen. As she is not actually a human, but an artificial hybrid product of the mysterious planet and the protagonists’ memories, she heals rapidly and is alive again minutes later. Her choice to take her own life is poignant, seemingly the action of a being becoming aware of its hopeless infinitude. Her realization that while the men will die on the space station or elsewhere, her existence is that of immortality, a deeply alienating notion that causes her to seek her own destruction. The Montreal artist Guillaume Lachapelle has one work that prompts a sense of eternal alienation that echoes Hari’s tragedy. The work greets the viewer with a empty doorway flanked by clinically white bookshelves...