Gina Triplett and Matt Curtius (MC, ML)

Gina Triplett and Matt Curtius have shared a studio for over 10 years. At some point, talking paintings while sharing coffee led to talking marriage while sharing paintings. Now they make art, sometimes together, sometimes singularly, in a studio that Matt converted from a shell in Chestnut Hill, PA. They have shown in galleries across the country and been commissioned by clients that have included: RCA Records, Lamar Snowboards, and Rheingold Beer.

Other Clients Include:
The New York Times
Rolling Stone
Entertainment Weekly
Outside
IBM
Converse
Little, Brown & Co.
Random House
Domtar Paper

Recognitions:
American Illustration
Print Magazine
Society of Illustrators
Communication Arts

Michelle Marcuse (Philadelphia)

Michelle Marcuse

Artist Bio

Michelle Marcuse was raised in South Africa during the apartheid era. At the age of 18, she moved to the Middle East for seven years. In 1984, she arrived in Philadelphia to finish a BFA in painting at Tyler School of Art. The diversity of culture, ethnicity, climate and politics that she experienced in her youth continue to influence her work. Currently a resident of Philadelphia, Michelle has shown her work regionally, nationally, and internationally. Michelle teaches a series of workshops and classes in encaustic techniques.

Artist Statement
I have an instinctual fear of catastrophe. Even though I don't approach my studio practice with this in mind, this apprehension is present and effects the way that I interpret my painting from midway to the conclusion. Although my influences are landscapes, (meaning, any environment that I live in), I characterize my work as abstract in that it departs from a realistic interpretation of physical appearances.

For the most part, I use encaustic wax as my medium with its potential for mystery and poeticism. It possesses great flexibility and a range of dualities such as rough-smooth, translucence-opacity, addition and subtraction. All of these attributes provide me with enormous descriptive possibilities. I apply my waxes mostly with bristle brushes, and sometime by dipping or pouring encaustic.
The formal elements of beauty and harmony provide a system of rules which underlie my work. This is the way I have learnt to see since early childhood. It is this very structure plus the limits of my materials which triggers my frustration, stimulating me to be resourceful and to find ways to resolve my work. Beginning a work is often excruciating, but once entrenched, it absorbs me like a puzzle or game.


Remnant of Land, 2006, encaustic, image transfer, board, 7-3/4” x 3-1/2”


Wetland, 2006, encaustic, mixed media, board, 16” x 16”


Universe, 2004, encaustic and oil on masonite, 48" x 32"

Kirby Fredendall (B)

Kirby Fredendall



In the practice of meditation one is instructed to imagine one’s mind as an ocean. Life experience provides the input that causes the stirring of the surface into waves – from gentle ripples to roiling storms. The true mind, one is told, is the water beneath the waves, deep enough where the surface agitation is registered, but only as a gentle swelling. To find one’s true spirit through meditative practice, one must dive beneath the surface to “see” the true self - the cumulative effects of life’s experiences. The interplay between surface and the “spirit portraits” that evolve beneath the surface form the totality of the human spirit.
My paintings are my visual equivalent of these “spirit portraits”.
I am inspired at times by the process of making the visual image – by the random movement of wet acid as it etches the tin, or by paint as it interacts with wax. Many of the physical forms in the paintings are drawn from images of biological processes. They include the static images revealed by x-rays and biological photographs and the dynamic images provided by video ultrasounds. They include visual records of natural forms such as seedpods and budding plants.
In these images I invite the viewer to experience the sense of entrance into a space, or I keep them out with opaque layers. I invite them to watch something seem to emerge or grow from the picture plane. I invite them to try to see real or imagined faces or words that may evoke a sense of nostalgia, confusion, or understanding. When we interact with the world, how do we project the complexity of ourselves – how much do we allow of ourselves to be “seen” - how much do we really see of others and our surroundings?