MAGGIE CROWLEY | Comb | January 22 – March 4, 2022
A construction cone orange camouflage hunting glove emerges in A stack of firewood and a glove; a security badge and barbed wire breathes forward in Yardwork. Crowley meticulously places a symphony of objects that materialize from the subdued layers of gouache, announcing themselves seriatim. Experiencing Comb is the gallery parallel to combing through the treasure chest of objects in your grandfather’s garage for the first time, noticing the complexities and sincerity of each item one at a time. — Ally Fouts, New City
In the large-scale Crashing into the mountain, we uncover a stamp-sized depiction of Mickey Mouse, a ghostly, oversized chainsaw blade, and a hail of orange disposable earplugs. Suspended from a rod of angle iron, the gouache-stained silk is creased across the center by a free-standing armature. This isn’t a formally seductive object in a traditional sense. It looks worn and broken in—maybe broken down—but its somber hues and fragmented imagery are beautiful in their honesty. Crowley is sifting through her past and inviting us to do the same.
— Alan Pocaro, Chicago Reader
— Alan Pocaro, Chicago Reader
