Alyson Weege at Gallery K

Art in America, June, 2003, by Joe Shannon

Alyson Weege at Gallery K, Washington DC

The 15 recent oil paintings in this show by Alyson Weege varied in composition, subject and intention. From the darkling, trompe l'oeil still lifes to the surreal set pieces to the intense portraits, the exhibition held my attention for a long time.

The wild, complex figure compositions are confrontational, stewing in implied disaster, even though they are flavored with spicy wit. The tangle of meanings--relationships that can be read multiple ways among figures that seem oddly detached--would have Bosch, Ernst and Rousseau winking and smiling in knowing accord. Weege's draftmanship has a kind of precise naivete--an intentional primitivism that is at once accurate and sharply distorted. The 34-by-62-inch oil, Equestrian Portrait (2000), is set in the desert. Two children appear in the foreground, the boy on a rocking horse, the girl in a sweet white party dress. Behind them are two men, one shirtless; they both hold raised beach umbrellas. The men are trying to control a rearing horse. Juxtaposed to this bluster is a calm woman in a red blazer. In the mid-distance a cottage is burning, as smoke violently billows and fumes. To the right, a woman sketches the desert scene. Behind her is a Porta Johnny and a two-toned '50s-era car. Elsewhere in this smiling nightmare are dogs and a half-clothed man who is drinking. The painting is fraught with the kinds of social hints that could keep Sigmund Freud engaged for hours.

Weege's small still lifes and medium-size portraits are perhaps more important than her larger, tumbling set pieces. A still life called Green Cup (2002) is riveting. The painting depicts various containers and bottles on an old varnished counter. The artist meticulously details the counter's wood grain and surface imperfections. The reflection of a green plastic cup and an electrical cord coming in from the bottom left are rendered with breathtaking accuracy.

Her portraits combine the surreal angst of the multifigure pieces with the depictive skill of the still lifes. Ball Gowns (2002) shows two women standing in a basement. An aging woman in a glistening green off-the-shoulder gown is spotlighted from the front. She reaches out imploringly, touching the arm of a blonde girl next to her. The old basement has a low-beamed ceiling and concrete walls, and it contributes to the tension of this potent psychological vignette.