“Noctilucent Mycology” Brings Art to Darkness at Five15 Arts

Local artist Preston Graves has a fascination with the night. He’s not one of those creepy pseudo-goth types, nor is his art influenced by the occult, like that of Perihelion Gallery’s Rachel Bess. Graves is passionate about biology — specifically plants, cells, and living organisms that transcend the ordinary when exposed to darkness. When a friend told him that Jack O’Lantern mushrooms glow in the dark, he brought home a fistful to test their phosphorescence. On his digital camera are photos of his neighbor’s night-blooming cactus.

These natural curiosities spawned a series of acrylic and vinyl paintings, on display in the solo exhibit “Noctilucent Mycology” through July 31 at Five15 Arts in Phoenix. The exhibit’s title is a mouthful. It loosely translates to “night shining fungus studies,” a hat-tip to a type of luminescent cloud formation and a branch of biology. Ironically, it also highlights two things Graves’ images lack: light and life. This show just doesn’t shine. Muddy colors and the absence of depth make it difficult for the viewer to comprehend the image, much less become emotionally invested in the work.

A prime example is The Doorway, an abstracted observational painting featuring a flower-shaped red and pink object floating in a sea of dark purple and gray. A single light source, perhaps a keyhole, flares white. A doorknob peeks out from one side. The piece is typical of Graves’ still-life works, which break down objects into basic shapes for an abstract look. The problem is that it’s artistically indecisive: abstract yet lacking in the clean lines or bold colors that make a modern abstract successful; a still life but without the dynamic mastery of light and dark necessary to make it come alive. The “flower” form is organic, yet the painting feels lifeless because the gateway is so flat that the eye isn’t able to travel inside the room.

Similar problems arise with two other still-life paintings in the show: (n.01) and Stump. The former appears to be an artist’s studio filled with paint jars, abstracted tools, and what Graves says is a carnivorous plant. Poor thing looks a little wilted. It’s also the only slice of color in a sea of enough boring beige, gray, and brown to rival any office cubicle. There are shading and a lot of contrast between matte and gloss pigments, but neither technique is used successfully here. As is true with walls, matte paint can appear dull if not used in the proper setting. Here, it flattens the whole image, creating a 2D effect in a field of nondescript colors.

In Stump, an abstracted still life is framed in a diamond shape, as if the viewer were peering through a knothole in a tree. The scene itself suffers from the same muddy colors and two-dimensional style as Graves’ other still lifes. Rather than tree bark, the foreground is covered with a red and white pattern that’s a nod to the pattern techniques of Matisse. This particular X-shaped pattern is eerily similar to the scientific drawings of chromosomal abnormalities you’ll find in high school textbooks. The pinkish hues vibrate against the green still life. But without proper shading around the pattern’s borders, there’s still no depth, no delineation of planes. The patterns and textures merely lay next to one another rather than fooling the eye into creating dimension.

The most successful works in the show come from Graves’ imagination. In Squid Lightning, built-up layers of purple, black, and burgundy paint create a cosmic backdrop suitable for the subject: a white-hot bolt of energy streaming down from the heavens. The artist’s labor-intensive technique shines here. Small bubbles and bright spots in the endless layers of paint lend the image an otherworldly quality reminiscent of a Star Trek galaxy, or one of those cool glow-in-the-dark shirts you find at head shops. Gloss and matte acrylics are layered to create a textured effect, with the excess paint dripping like candle wax down the sides of the wooden canvas. It’s an enchanting piece; however, there is room for improvement. While the stormy background appears intentional, the lightning bolts are shaky and blurred. A bold line or a more crisp transition between ground and light would’ve given the piece more power and dimension.

Acrylic is one of the most difficult mediums to translate to fine art because of the paint’s fast drying time and difficulty of blending shades. Phoenix-based acrylic painters such as Rhonda Shakur Carter have focused on graphic, cartoon-like imagery, with shading done in separate layers so as not to combine colors. Graves’ abstracts, on the other hand, seem better suited to oil or the Flashe vinyl paint he uses intermittently. Or, perhaps, he just needs to refine his technique — this being his first solo show.

Several other examples shine through the darkness, including a luminescent yellow section of one piece that looks like chunky, handmade stained glass and a series of “Spore Prints” featuring biological imagery. A mushroom cap twinkles in bright aquamarine; a pink organism almost fluoresces beneath dripped layers of matte black. It’s a neat trick, and one I wish would’ve translated better in Jack O’Lantern, a depiction of the aforementioned luminescent mushrooms. Instead, the fungi get lost in the painting, barely visible to the eye. While likely accurate (it is difficult to see in total darkness), the glowing effect could have been magnified with an extra punch of color.

Talking to Graves, there’s a disconnect between the fervor with which he discusses his art and the dark, cave-like pieces that mar Five15’s stark white walls this month. He is charming, with an easygoing personality and a willingness to open himself up to questioning. He practically shines when he talks about glowing mushrooms or night-blooming flowers. If only a little more of that light would spill onto his canvases, perhaps it would illuminate the darkness enough to draw us in.