Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Every once in a while, an exhibition comes along that emerges in defiant freshness, that takes us by total surprise, that reminds us that it has not, in fact, all been done before. Adam Cruces’ (b. 1985) Chimera is such an exhibition; spread across three floors, pseudo-mundane objects and paintings are arranged into scenes of playful absurdity, encouraging us to probe those dissonant spaces between the real, unreal and surreal.
The moment we enter the exhibition, it is clear that everything is not as it seems. All that is present is a white shirt and a pair of blue jeans. While instantly recognisable as wardrobe staples, their ease and functionality are undermined by their peculiar form. 3D printed White Shirt (2023) hangs unmoving on the wall, emphatically resisting its usual fate of being picked up and thrown on our bodies. Blue Jeans (Front) (2023) and Blue Jeans (Back) (2023) makes conventional use of denim but stretches it out over large rectangle canvases, simultaneously rendering their representation literal and their purpose obsolete.
Like a magician pulling a coin from our ear, there is a discreet humour to be found in Cruces’ deception. From birth, we are furnished with a neatly packaged vision of life that purports how certain choices and actions can lead to desired outcomes. We feel slighted when, as is the lottery of life, those outcomes fall short of fruition despite our best efforts. It is the aching realisation that ‘this isn’t how it’s meant to be’ that Cruces so skillfully manoeuvres here. As the objects collapse into their images, we understand that it is only by releasing our preconceptions that we are free to fashion new ones that are meaningful and necessary for us. In this way, reality, far from being fixed, turns out to be endlessly malleable- a theme that runs through Chimera from beginning to end.
As we approach the first floor, we find ourselves plunged into suburbia. Notorious middle-class ideals of family and home are laid bare in the pruned flowers and white picket fence of Be that as it may (2023). This is accentuated by Strawberries (2023), whereby the larger-than-life proportions induce a particular childlike innocence, a sense of provincial charm. Yet, through Cruces’ curious choice of materials, this straightforward viewing experience is quickly disrupted. The flowers, crafted from acrylic, are rendered void of the very qualities that make them beautiful- their drifting scent, delicate petals and gorgeous hues replaced with a mocking lifelessness. The inflated strawberries, constructed from PVC, hold the promise not of oozing, saccharine juice but of stale, empty air. By subverting our expectations of such objects, Cruces exposes the inherently manufactured, necessarily false reality of the things we all-too-readily accept as fact.
It is in this light that Shadow from the forest (2023) and Shadow from the plains (2023) serve as effective interlopers. Ghillie suits, typically designed to camouflage, cannot help but catch our eye here both behind a translucent curtain and against a stark white wall. Such is the disconnect Cruces deliberately fashions between the earnest yearning to belong and the obvious failure to do so. The kind of disconnect that leaves us neither here nor there, drifting in the grey space between the familiar and the foreign. In contemplating this, though, we are reminded that the appearance of existing in harmony with our surroundings is itself a pretence, striving at all costs to come across as candid and authentic. That we all don the Ghillie suit at some point in our lives, is perhaps what lies at the crux of Chimera.
Indeed, in the basement, Cruces highlights the irony of finding comfort in rejecting the exigency of belonging. Cardboard boxes populate the space- some opened and some taped up as if caught in the dual processes of packing and unpacking. In In transit (2023), a cardboard box is placed over a mannequin, with only its two legs visible, manipulated into a running stance. What it is running from or towards remains unknown to both the mannequin and the viewer, endearing us to our own continuous states of transit- inevitable yet incalculable. An émigré himself, hailing from Texas and now residing in Zurich, Cruces understands precisely what it is like to forge a new life for himself, to subsequently feel a perpetual uncertainty as to what home constitutes. In his words, “I continue to feel very American in Europe, while simultaneously feeling more European when I’m in the States. I don’t think that sensation will ever go away completely.”.Chimera is Cruces’ vessel for embracing this duality, submitting to the tides of change and indulging in the strangeness of it all.
An exhibition that showcases the deep intentionality and diversity of Cruces’ artistic practice, Chimera consists of all new works designed with the viewer firmly in mind. Moving through the rooms, we are presented with multiple different ways of engaging with and responding to the works, each one offering a new thrill. Describing his practice as “a loose cannon, shooting all over the map, always operating under the same umbrella”, Cruces cements himself as one of the most exciting contemporary artists today. Chimera is just the tip of the iceberg.
Adam Cruces: Chimera is showing at Public Gallery until 15th April.
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
