For this exhibition, Lendvay populates the North Gallery with a widely diverse array of objects and sculptures. Arranged in intimate groups along shelves, tables and pedestals, the small objects appear like alien chachkas. Kitsch mingles with cartoon silliness in their misshapen bodies, characters from some demented Warner Brother’s cartoon. Larger sculptures rise from the floor like quasi-human stalagmites, appendages reaching out, mouths agape, legs spread in mid-stride. These weird bodies feign movement and strain against their own awkwardness. There is an absurdity here as they attempt to hold the ground and exist in the world, as if humbly trying to be good or beautiful or funny. Like a child surrounded by toys, the viewer moving between them is involved in their sense of play.
Lendvay begins with found objects that she then adds to with wire, paper-mache and plaster, creating hybrid forms that are, in their awkwardness, physical manifestations of emotional states. Within this structure opposing sensibilities like static motion, refined messes, and grotesque beauty present themselves. Lendvay also mixes art historical and pop culture references, making objects that seem to be in perpetual process, each piece recalibrating its inner-logic to fit and or relate to objects and things around it. Between them it is as if ideas dropped off here are picked up there, as colors, forms and gestures repeat or echo throughout.