Kim Schifino’s silk-screened wood cut outs evoke a battle scene of hapless heroes; angels hover amongst the clouds invading the space overhead while they watch you walk through the room. Some are a bit overweight, slightly burnt-out perhaps, and seem as if they’re stuck in limbo or waiting patiently for something to happen. The superheroes are free-standing on the ground. Their faces and slumpy poses are uneasy and yet you wholeheartedly empathize with them, feeling their unanticipated hardships and their very human worries.

When we are young, we look to some type of hero to provide us with inspiration and comfort. As we grow older, angels supposedly soothe our fears of death and loss. But, in the middle of our lives, our heroes sometimes turn into real people or often we end up having no heroes at all. What happens to a culture without any heroes or angels?

Peering through these moribund observations is still a proud demeanor amongst Schifino’s characters, the kind of working class underdogs that are still worth rooting for. These heroes become the guy you sat next to on the subway or the man in line behind you at the grocery store. Everyday folks with enough courage to don the uniform, roll up their sleeves and get to work. And with allied heroes like that, who needs Superman.