Jeff Iorillo is a study in contrasts. And textures, depths, and perception. His deeply tactile and textured work is both beautiful and contemplative; whether sculptural or wall art, the materials that he uses as well as his dynamic implementation of them add rich layers to his work.
Asked what he wants viewers to think and feel about his work, he turns that question around.
“What I really want to know is, what does my art make other people think and feel? I’m less interested in making a statement about myself, and more interested in creating objects that evoke a response,” he says. “Does being with this work make you feel anything? Does it make you think about anything? Remember anything or imagine anything about yourself, your life, the world you live in? Do your fingers itch to touch it? Do you wonder what the work smells like? Go ahead and touch it, sniff it, experience it fully and let your thoughts and feelings respond on their own! And let me know what that does for you!”
That sense of sharing and Iorillo’s unassuming nature invites viewers to feel comfortable with and included in his process. But it in no way diminishes the profound richness of his work.
“I’ve always been a creative type, and have made a living that way,” he notes. “I was an English major with a career as an ad agency creative director, and I was painting and taking art classes on the side all through the 90’s, but I never showed or tried to sell my art. I sold my first piece about a dozen years ago, started paying more attention to developing my fine art, and gradually phased out my previous career. I still paint in acrylic on canvas, and sell work through a sales rep and galleries across the US for mostly commercial installations.”
But recently, his mediums began to broaden.
“I started venturing beyond paint and canvas and into other materials gradually, within the last few years. I created a body of sculptural paintings by drying tubs of watered acrylic paint outdoors in the hot sun for weeks to create crusty, gnarly wall pieces.”
The visceral quality of work, its tactile and intense quality invites viewers to emotionally step inside it. Wall sculptures capture the nature of the life-cycle itself, organic and earthy images capture the wonder of nature – its resilience and fragility. The variety of the materials he uses now shape the aesthetic of his work: bamboo ash, beeswax, steel, cardboard, paper, fabric.
Witness his large scale “Relic,” in which he has created what appears to be a large bark fragment. Shaped with archival cardboard and paper, clay, ink, and beeswax, in conveys a sense of elegy, an homage to all living things and the poignant passing of time.
His “Shaman’s Cloak” is also large scale, and represents concepts of flight, of magic, of ritual. It is a garment both literal and figurative. Wear these wings, this protective cloak, this magic. Mixing natural materials and his own alchemic sensibilities, Iorillo creates his own world that is equal parts natural and magical in origin. He describes it as one of his favorite works.
“It was made with torn strips of linen on a horizontal armature, some of their tips painted with beeswax and black ashes. It has drawn a lot of gaze and comment; the title came from Laddie John Dill, who said it reminded him of the feather cloaks worn in Aztec ceremonies. Some say it’s funereal, for others it’s meditative, some people really want to touch the linen – that’s okay,” he says. “I like it when someone says they just want to keep staring at the piece, without saying much more…they are having their own silent, wordless relationship with the art. That’s beautiful to me.”
The experience is also beautiful to viewers. It was work in these types of materials that first got the got the attention of LA Artcore’s founder and director Lydia Takeshita, who offered Iorillo the chance to show his work in an artists’ exchange trip to Japan in 2015.
“In Japan that work was well-received, and I was turned on to the evocative textures of things like Raku pottery and extremely aged natural surfaces,” he relates. “A material gets my attention so I start thinking of a way to use it.”
His recent show at the Brewery Artcore reflects exactly that.
“This sculptural work was all created after I got home from Japan, where Japanese artists had told me about burning bamboo to make their own densely black charcoal. Of course I had to try this when I got home,” he laughs. “I started to create sculptural substrates of archival bookbinding cardboard- the stuff inside hardcovers – which can be soaked in water, torn, glued together and distressed. Packing wet porcelain onto those forms mixed with Sumi ink and burnt bamboo ash made sense…then the question arises how to stabilize the dried clay…so of course that solution is to coat the whole thing with melted beeswax and then melt that into the surface with a blowtorch. It all makes sense at the time,” he attests.
Above, Iorillo’s bamboo-burning bucket.
And despite the difficult nature of these processes, it also makes a pure, deep sense to the viewer. There is a mystery inherent in Iorillo’s work, one which requires contemplation to unravel and which dazzles the eye at initial viewing.
As an artist, he has a number of different projects ahead.
“I am really fortunate to have a couple of parts to my art practice–my experimental, gnarly sculptural work, and then my more commercial acrylic on canvas paintings.”
According to Iorillo, “This year I completed a commissioned painting, for the lobby of a new residential tower on Wilshire and Crescent Heights that’s 7 feet tall by 10 feet wide on a row of resin-topped wood panels (above). I just got a commission for a suite of 5 canvases for a Nordstrom department store,” he explains. “Did you know they buy original art for their stores? Neither did I, until they started buying mine!”
And perhaps best of all, Iorillo reports “I am thrilled to be in the planning stages for a monthlong residency in Naples, Italy for 2019, when I hope to spend some quality time with the volcanic remains of Pompeii and Herculaneum and see what that inspires.”
If he returns with a way to recreate lava flows, it won’t be entirely a surprise.
“I have not always used natural or natural-looking materials, that’s bubbled up in my process in the last handful of years. I’m a lifelong outdoorsy type, camping a couple times a year in Joshua Tree and hiking all over California. I guess it’s a healthy sign that some of the colors and textures I’ve been surrounding myself with for so long should start coming out my hands,” he muses. “And yes, appreciating beauty in art is going to help us find and appreciate beauty all around us. Art is a great training ground just to get us to stop what we’re doing and consider something on the wall or on the floor for a few minutes, and then go outside and turn that same inquisitive and open-minded gaze on the great outdoors.” He adds “Hey – maybe we could even learn to offer the same consideration and openness to other people–now wouldn’t that be a miracle inspired by art!”
Above, the artist with new friends in Japan.
Making art is magic.
There is no other way to describe what viewers have been privy to see this past month at the Torrance Art Museum. I’ve visited twice during the process of artists working at their month-long, in-house residencies, and both times the experience was incredibly special, profoundly illuminating, and offered a look at what it means to have an artistic muse.
At the closing tomorrow night from 6 to 9, we’ll have a chance to see the finished products, but as with life itself, it was the journey to get here that was so profound.
Perhaps the real expression is soul-satisfying. Museum curator and director Max Presneill allowed artists space and freedom to work their own individual magic, to bond with and be inspired by each other, and to share their artistic alchemy with each other. And in so doing, he created the ability for visitors to not just interact with the artists but to get in touch with something indefinably special, to be an audience to the manifestation of beauty.
It’s a bit like being present for the creation of the universe.
Okay, on a slightly smaller scale.
Resident artists include: Jodi Bonassi, Chenhung Chen, Tom Dunn,
Huo You Feng, Anna Garner, Lawrence Gipe, Debby and Larry Kline, Feng Ling, Hagop Najarian, Khang Nguyen,
Samuelle Richardson, and Tyler Waxman.
Bonassi weaves complex, delicate and precisely realized realistic paintings and drawings that capture an indelible image of people, often surrounded by small magical beings, or animals. From her lush color palette to her intuitive emotional resonance, its a treat to see the artist slip in and out of the worlds she’s created.
Chen creates beautiful, flowing sculptures of cords and woven metal and other found objects. Her use of detritus to shape enigmatic, motion-filled sculpture is rather amazing; she weaves her sculptural works from seemingly nothing into something graceful and mythical.
Khang Nguyen’s sacred geometric art is hypnotic, drawn in pencil and painted in acrylic.
Each piece is like the frame of a kaleidoscope image, dancing with light and shape, as if caught just in a brief and fragile moment before a shift. His works, in a muted, earthen palette, bloom as if flowers were plunging up through the soil.
Hagop Najarian is inspired by music – and uses its rhythms and sounds to create vividly colored works that reflect that inspiration. His multi-layered works have the consistency – or rather the illusion – of stained glass.
Feng Ling, also known as Carmen Zou, has created a lovely, Zen-like tea room, offering visitors tea and small snacks of raisins and nuts, and engaging them in conversation. For my grandson, present on both visits to the space, this was an introduction to a beautiful ritual, and allowed him the calm to interact with it and share through it. Older participants wrote their names on the wall behind Zou, and spilled tea on a scroll, upon which the artist will be symbolizing each participant.
Also highly participatory and involving, Huo You Feng, a guest artist from China – where he is working on lithographic projects – has created a movable, mutable large scale sculpture reminiscent of both the Stone Henge and abstract art. The installation consists in part of mega-sized hay bales which Feng has shaped into a space the resembles a temple of sorts. Scattered soft hay forms the base from which these bales rise.
Viewers can touch and walk through, and in the case of my accompanying 3-year-old visitor, help to reshape the work while in progress.
Samuelle Richardson builds sculptures from fabric and wood, creating beings that seem almost alive, and very much on the same page with the “woke” by love Skin Horse character. Her distinct, shabby-chic works are ready to take flight here, in what she describes as a flock of “angry birds.”
Her work is entirely fresh, and upends the concept of sewn, material based exhibitions as being “less than” and women’s work. These are powerful creations.
Tom Dunn has created large scale works that are mural-like in size and scope for this exhibition. The paintings are abstract but oddly recognizable; the pieces shimmer and shiver as if waiting to pop off the walls and dance.
And don’t miss the potent political and social messages inherent in Debbie and Larry Kline’s series work here. They bring a sense of humor and humanity to their interactive mission.
Gipe, Garner, and Waxman all have equally beautiful works.
Whether you’ve followed them all in their process or this will be the first time viewing – don’t miss the closing on Saturday from 6-9 p.m.
TAM is located at 3320 Civic Center Drive in Torrance.
