Sun April 14, 4-7pm! Rylan Morrison: 99% Clowns With Music Performance by Sad Music for Old People (David S. McClelland & John S. Wyeth) at 6pm Vorderzimmer 280 Van Buren Street Bed-Stuy/Brooklyn Enter under the stoop

My body of work is predominantly paintings of clowns, hence the show title "99% Clowns." Clowns are fun to paint because of the endless range of color palettes and emotions captured in their expressions. Sometimes the clowns are in poetic scenarios depicting a vision of surreal scale and a moment where someone might say "OMG look at that huge clown head flopped over on the landscape!" Perhaps this is happening in a "clown world" and these are simply portraits. "OMG look at that huge head flopped over on the landscape!", a clown might say. The clown world sometimes feels like a "big joke." This sentiment captures something about the human experience for me. Either on the micro-scale of juggling being a woman, and a mother, while in a capitalist system stacked against us; or being a romantic fool while at any minute a meteor, a layoff, animal extinction, a pandemic, or heartbreak could happen. Joy is a radical act.  - Rylan Morriso...

  Born in Saratoga Springs, NY, in 1979, Rylan Morrison explored the cavernous back rooms of the Saratoga Springs Harness Track while her father, Robert Morrison, the staff photographer, developed film in his darkroom. Her mother, Paula Hayes, a career and exhibiting artist, provided a rich street education in the urban landscape of the early 90s New York art scene at its peak. Rylan, a country mouse, ran away to the big city, trading the Adirondacks for underground Drum and Bass clubs, and later earned a Media Studies degree at Hunter College. A live-in nanny and studio assistant for various artists, she supported herself and continued the theme of art education through exposure. Trained as an Improv Comedian, Rylan dedicated over a decade to the art form; performing, directing, writing, and immersing herself in the New York Comedy scene. Throughout her life, fine art was always something that someone else did, until a moment of grace amidst personal crisis allowed h...