MARC STRAUS is pleased to present And the Unfathomable Night of Dreams Began, a solo exhibition of Jeanne Silverthorne (b. 1950, Philadelphia, US) featuring her most recent works.

Silverthorne’s latest works are a continuation of the artist’s 30-year dissection of the studio and construction of the uncertain self that operates both in the studio and in the world. Fusing personal references, nods to her own family history, literary quotations, and formal references to studio tools, she presents a group of works that touch upon our shared experiences of vulnerability, absurdity, humanity, and the duality of our constructed and fragile selves.

The exhibition consists of 11 sculptures that take the shapes of crates, hammers, books, boxing gloves, child sneakers and figures that range from infancy to the edge of old age, all cast in rubber, Silverthorne’s chosen material for many decades.

A tiny baby peacefully sleeping on a big white cloud that also looks like cake frosting (the title piece of the exhibition), a small figure representing the artist’s mother standing on a book (Mom on Book), a seemingly deflated life-size figure of the artist lying on the floor (Banshee: Self-Portrait at 73), and the miniature figure of a studio worker sitting on the floor wearing sunglasses, their back leaning against a crate with a hammer in hand and shattered glass all around (End of Day), are the protagonists of the scene. Silverthorne plays with scale, positions, and the various shapes and expressions of the human body in different phases of life to create a complex but puzzling play of human drama. The props (eyeglasses, knitted hat, sunglasses, hammer) she incorporates into her rubber sculptures allude to narratives that are suggested only, keeping the sculptures in the realm of enigma.

The color palette is reduced to shades of gray, black, cream and taupe in the entire exhibition resulting in an air of solemnity and austerity. But with all the seriousness, there is a cheeky sense of humor that comes through. A large question mark standing upright on a crate and suspended from the ceiling (Hanging Question Mark) looks comical, almost grotesque. The black and white child sneakers paired with child’s-size boxing gloves (In My Mother’s House) or doubled to face each other on the two ends of parallel sticks (Double Sneakers (The Three Sillies) raise a witty tone that is sprinkled with absurdity. By multiplying the shoes, Silverthorne strips them of their ability to fulfill their utilitarian potentials and as such turns them into symbols of dysfunctionality.

In these new works, Silverthorne continues to use language in the sparse but powerful ways that became her signature over the years. Including punctuations, literary references and sometimes quoted texts in her sculptures, she offers an insight into her inspirations and contemplations and opens narrative pathways for the viewer to explore.