Hold Me Like Sand Through Fingertips
April 1 – 30, 2021
Opening Thursday April 1, 2021 6 -10pm
We miss having you in person!
To view Sheldon Storey’s work please visit each page listed below
Today Is The Tomorrow That We Worried About Yesterday
Hold Me Like Sand Through Fingers features new work from Sheldon Storey’s on-going engagement with the familial and the familiar resonance of objects. In this exhibition the object malts into a materialisation of the experiences of a young child. Conceptualised during the pandemic the work evolves from moments of solidarity, reflection and hindsight, enabling subtle glimpses of wonder and discovery as the light emits and the soil loams the space becomes a subjective series of narratives. These experiences don’t linger, they change and shift, they grow and become new, these experiences and memories settle and begin to make shape at the bottom of the jar. With works consisting of themes of loss and bereavement, entomology, growth, nostalgia and wonder; each piece allows for a moment of pause, for it’s been uprooted and has now tasted the spring air, yet it seems like harvest is upon us..
His practice centers around a multidisciplinary approach to installation-based works. Primarily inclined to found materials and objects with a desirable focus on the familiar pull of familial objects to conjure subjective notions of home, experience, sexuality, mental health and relationships. His studio practice integrates collecting both natural and found materials of curiosity to instill these ideas of wonder and observation of the peculiar body and its spaces. Toying with the connotations of masculinity and labour much of my current materiality centres around this implication of workforce and the blue collar.
Raised in rural Ontario with parents of the trades I learned that hard work was sometimes the only work available and the objects and tools used allow for the patina of a hard day’s work to wear through—challenging such notions as gender, class, and sexuality.
Feel as the softness of sand leaves your palm and fingers and falls back onto the ground, resting again, waiting to feel another’s touch.