Surrealistic Connections

In my most recent post, I said this:

I’m traveling to Chicago, and tomorrow night I’m attending the opening of an art show, “Residual Surrealisms, Part Two Thousand & Twenty Six” at the Aponte Art Gallery, “a group exhibit of artists whose work is shaped by lingering surrealist impulses.”  My daughter is showcasing some of her work – not paintings – but everyday objects, some from (recent) bygone days, transformed unexpectedly by sequins and spangles into captivating artifacts of appeal and allure.  I’ll post pics later.

Well, the time is now to post info and pics about the show, and I'll begin by dropping this "Connections" game to pique your interest. The solutions to the puzzle are below -- following a surreal tale from the experience at the gallery. 

Before I reveal the solutions to the "Connections" puzzle above, let me pass on this surreal tale from the event:

I was wearing my Emily Dickinson Museum hat that night, and as I strolled through the gallery gazing at the works on the wall, a quirky dude in an unusual get-up came upon me, pointed at my hat, and asked, “What kind of a museum is that?”

I explained that the museum had once been Dickinson’s home and that the museum was, indeed, all about Emily Dickinson.

“Who’s that,” he said.

After a significant pause and after I’d sucked in enough oxygen to regain my ability to speak, I said something like, “Emily Dickinson…you know…the poet.…” 

He stared blankly at me, so I quoted the first four lines of “Because I could not stop for Death.”  I got nothing in return but a blank stare.

Oddly enough, just then, a man walked by who was wearing a black tee-shirt with the word “POETRY” printed on it.  He pointed up at me and said, “Nice hat.”

Now let's get started with my "Connections," and to begin, I'm going to wax.  I'm going to wax poetic.  

"Wax," of course, is a bygone term meaning to grow, increase, or become larger.  We most often use it when talking about the phases of the moon, "the waxing (vs. waning) moon."  And "poetic," of course, means to use lyrical/ figurative language – using the style or beauty of poetry.

Together, the two mean to speak or write something artistically – perhaps, at times too, being a bit long winded  I dunno.  Maybe I'll be long-winded, maybe I won't?  And who knows how artistic I'll be –  but I'll certainly be "waxing poetic" about something artistic, the art show "Residual Surrealisms, Part Two Thousand & Twenty Six" mentioned above, currently showing at the Aponte Art Gallery in Chicago.  

'Twas just dawns ago the show did launch.  (Does that wax poetic enough for you?)

I suspect you've already surmised that my poetic waxing will center on surrealism.  I mean, the word appears in the title of the show, "Residual Surealisms."   "Residual" because this is a sequel of sorts from a similar show last year – alluded to, too, in the remainder of the title, "PART TWO Thousand & Twenty Six" (I added the caps and bold). 

Below left to right:  Surreal classics by Salvador Dali, René Magritte, and Meret Oppenheim.
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I  suppose if I were to define "surrealism" off the top of my head, just as I am sitting her typing, I would say that the artform depicts familiar objects in unfamiliar, unexpected contexts, often in a dreamlike state.  But that's just off the top of my head, so let me "Googlify" it, by throwing it into the Google machine to see what comes up – and seconds later – voila, here 'tis:

Surrealism is a 20th-century art and cultural movement that seeks to express the unconscious mind through dreamlike, bizarre, and irrational imagery. It bypasses regular logic to reveal deeper, hidden truths of human thought.​

Here's what Merriam-Webster says of the ism:

: the principles, ideals, or practice of producing fantastic or incongruous imagery or effects in art, literature, film, or theater by means of unnatural or irrational juxtapositions and combinations

Now, as you can see from the green category in my game of Connections at the right, I've listed things that are spangled – and yes, that's a Spangled Cotinga on the left.

Of course, "spangled" means "decorated, covered, or studded with small, shiny objects like sequins, beads, jewels, or glitter. It can also describe something that sparkles with flashes of light"  According to the Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues from 1611, "to trimme, or decke, with spangles."

And what does trimming and bedecking with spangles have to do with "Residual Surrealisms"?  Let's move on and see, shall we?  

Now, if you recall, at the start of this post I mentioned my daughter’s work as “everyday objects, some from (recent) bygone days, transformed unexpectedly by sequins and spangles into captivating artifacts of appeal and allure” – and I mentioned, “I’ll post pics later.”  Well, dear reader, the later hour ’tis upon us.

Below:  A Dunkin donuts cup and straw; a CD play and headphones; a Wilson tennis ball; a Macbook Pro.​

I'll get to all of the pieces pictured above soon enough, but for now – let's start here:  I'll count down from three, and then you have to name five women artists in sixty seconds. 

You're on your honor.  Click the timer to the right, start it counting down, and name the names.   Ready?  Three – two – one – go!

So how did you do?  

I'm going out on a limb here – probably a short one – and predict that you named Georgia O'Keeffe, Frida Kahlo – and probably Mary Cassatt.   Were they among your five?  Did you actually get to five?

Okay – here's the next challenge – and there's no time limit on this.  Name a woman surrealist.

There was no time limit, so I was just here sipping my tea. 

You got a name ready?

Was it – if you do have a name – Méret  Oppenheim?  (Hee hee...I named her above). Oppenheim was a Swiss surrealist who, according to an article on Wikipedia, created "is the most frequently-cited example of sculpture in the movement" (HERE). 

Below:  Object (Le Déjeuner en fourrure), a 1936 sculpture by surrealist Méret Oppenheim, consisting of a fur-covered teacup, saucer and spoon. 

There are varying reports as to the origins of this artwork.  One story claims that the work's concept came about after a conversation between Oppenheim, Pablo Picasso, and his lover and fellow artist Dora Maar at a Parisian café.  Oppenheim was wearing a fur-covered brass tube bracelet, and Picasso suggested that anything could be covered in fur.  Oppenheim remarked that his observation could apply to "even this cup and saucer."  

In a more explicit version of the conversation, Picasso compliments the young artist on her fur bracelet, and flirtatiously observes that there are many things he enjoys that were improved when covered in fur. Oppenheim responded, tongue in cheek, by asking, "Even this cup and saucer?"

The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), where the piece is on display, adds this to the story (HERE):  "As her tea cooled, the young artist quipped, 'Garçon, more fur!' suggesting, with decadent absurdity, that the café waiter put a muff on her teacup for warmth. When she saw André Breton, Surrealism’s leader, soon after in St-Germain, she decided to carry out the joke for an exhibition of objects he announced. Oppenheim bought a cup, saucer, and spoon and covered these household items in short-haired fur, calling the end result simply Object. 'What amused me,' the artist said, 'was the contrast between porcelain and fur, like the metal/fur in the bracelet.'"

Was the piece merely meant as a visual jest in response to Picasso’s remark that anything could be covered in fur:  “Not missing a beat, Oppenheim replied, ‘Even this cup and saucer. Waiter, a little more fur!’”  Does it suggest more than that with its striking conflict of materials, the clash between the cool, hard utility of the porcelain and the warm and wild feel of the fur?  Do the contrasting elements trigger psychological discomfort or, perhaps, a visceral reaction?  A 1936 issue of the New Yorker Magazine reported that a woman fainted “right in front of the fur-bearing cup and saucer…She left no name with the attendants who revived her - only a vague feeling of apprehension.”

Incidentally, this became the first artwork by a female artist purchased by MoMA for its permanent collection (info HERE) – AND – in relation to AponteART Gallery's "Residual Surrealisms," it is the piece that  prompted Louis Bardales, the organizer of the exhibit, to include works by "stoning" artist Cydney Asher in the show.

"I remembered the fur-lined cup and saucer at MoMA when I first saw some of the rhinestoned pieces by Cydney," gushed Bardales, "and I knew they'd be perfect for a show on surrealism."​

Take the plastic Dunkin cup and straw, for example – the perfect counter to Oppenheim's porcelain cup and saucer, fine China versus disposable polyethylene terephthalate.  Oppenheim's speaks to a cafe rendezvous with one's coterie which, perhaps, includes Pablo Picasso and Dora Maar; the other, a quotidian stop for urgently-needed caffeine on the way to work for stamina.  

The piece, by the way, is entitled "Studies in Dumb Bitch Juice (7:13 - 11: 43am)" and it is labeled as "Sculptural Psychosis."

Oppenheim's work is prim and proper – and, yes, furry (she used the pelt of a Chinese gazelle).  Asher's is drive-thru, daily, disposable – and diamante.  All that glitters is not gold, but it sure can fortify one's attitude, no?

On another level, the piece speaks to our modern take, make, and waste society, to our excessive consumption and instant convenience.  Dunkin cups are disposable, made to be used once and put in the trash – but not this one.  It’s sui generis, not to be flung to the top of the trash heap. 

All of this is echoed, too, in a companion piece (at the right): 

​"Studies in Dumb Bitch Juice (11:44 am - 6:17pm)," subtitled "Addiction," a rhinestoned 16 oz tall boy diet coke.

Next up:  Three pieces of vintage electronics, rhinestoned personal/portable audio devices.
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Below:  Spotify CEO Daniel Ek just invested 600 million $ in AI military defense tech.  Cancel your account,  Embrace tradition. 

​Physical Media Supremacy. 

Rhinestoned Walkman and Headphones


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Below:  The first CD I ever bought with my own money was NOW That's What I Call Music Volume One.  The most recent CD I bought with my own money is NOW That's What I Call Music Volume One.  

NOW Volume 124 was released 7/31/26

Rhinestoned Discman and Headphones

Below:  The dumbest thing I've ever done is take too much acid on a 24 hour train ride, thought I was being rocketed to outer space, and ended up listening to this song for 2.5 hours because I didn't realize it was on repeat.

One bad trip.

Rhinestoned iPod Nano and Headphones

Tempus fugit, right?  Tempus fugits so fugit fast, that I say “tempus fukit.”  And in its wake, yes, there are fond memories viewed through rose-colored a rearview mirror, but present-day co-existing alpha-numeric generations have also left behind heaps and piles of tech trash, e-waste and gadget garbage.  

Asher’s blinged out and bedazzled “physical media” make a political statement – explicitly stated in the title for the Walkman – but they also amplify the associated nostalgia of days gone by and suggest that bit of comfort in adding a little sparkle to one’s life when dealing with the inevitable lapse of time.  Dare I say “mid-life crisis”?  Or perhaps, existential crisis? 

Kacey Musgraves sang this:

I saw you down the bar, looked like you were cryin'
Did she break your heart like he did mine?
And are you in the mood to forget about that?
I got something in my pocket, we could step out back

Ooh, let's put a little sparkle on
Ooh, until the heartache and the sadness is gone
Baby, we don't have to be alone
Let's get a little rhinestoned

Emily Dickinson wrote this:

As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away –
Too imperceptible, at last,
To seem like Perfidy –
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature, spending with herself
Sequestered afternoon –
The dusk drew earlier in –
The morning foreign shone –
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest that would be gone –
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the beautiful.

By the way, all three of the audio devices did work, and the display was interactive so that one could, indeed, don the headphones, and – to paraphrase Dickinson – spend with oneself sequestered time – and make a light escape into the beautiful.

Below:  "Computah, make these guys super gay and horny.  Make these guys super GAY and HORNY."
From the artist:  On November 28th, 2025, I read Heated Rivalry in one sitting.  It's been downhill ever since. 
Rhinestoned dead ass Macbook Pro

From the artist:  This ~ *piece* ~ is ~ *dedicated* ~ to my Thursday FRIENDS who are also my Thursday COWORKERS.  Thank you Delaney for trying to give me my first laptop in years, I'm sorry she died, but look at her now (!!!!).  Jason, you tried so hard to revive her.  Zoraida, I don't want to be anything other than what I've been trying to be lately.  Carlo, you are a her amongst men (he picks up lunch every week).  [Adrienne you are not a Thursday warrior, but you fill out all the Square Roots paperwork and drive me around town whenever I need and I am so grateful.] When can we wear wigs?

I was floored recently after I’d made a comment on Threads – I don’t’ even recall what it was about – when someone responded to me that my interpretation was wrong. Seriously?  MY interpretation? Of course, that’s the interesting thing about art – and poetry and literature and sculpture et cetera et cetera – the meaning is “open to interpretation.”

​An interesting incident for me personally involved my interpretation of a work by Amy Sherald after I’d visited an exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art this past March.  In a short video about the piece, Sherald remarked, “This is the first painting that I made where I was left with more questions that I had answers to, but I think I want the viewer to leave this painting with a sense of wonder and with the opportunity to create their own narrative on what they think is happening.”

Above right:  "Ecclessia (Inheritance meets Horizons)" by Amy Sherald 

Well, I did indeed leave the painting with a sense of wonder, and I did indeed create my own narrative (i.e., my interpretation). I wrote about it HERE.

In relation to Asher’s laptop, I’ve not read nor I have seen “Heated Rivalry,” so I do not appreciate the reference in the work’s title. I do know Gavin DeGraw’s song “I Don't Want to Be,” so I did recognize the lyric in the dedication’s personal note to co-worker Zoraida, although I do not know if that, too, was a subtle acknowledgement to the transformed laptop.
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For me, in viewing the “Rhinestoned dead ass Macbook Pro,” I thought of two dissimilar dimensions of invention – fairy tales and artificial intelligence.

Of course, AI creates by blending millions of human-made reference points; therefore, it ultimately is math, not human intention or emotion, that dictates the final output.  I suppose there are those who believe that math is beautiful; LOL – I’m not saying it is not; I too appreciate the beauty and magic of mathematics.  However, the siren-esque allure of the bedazzled laptop-turned-reflection-glass calls to mind a noted scene from Sleeping Beauty; and in my brain, I can hear only, “Mirror, mirror on the screen / Who’s next replaced by this machine?”
 
Pretty grim, huh? (LOL…Grimm.)

The final piece, a tennis racket and ball, was bedazzled to the max. Pictures do not do it justice as in true light, both pieces shimmer effervescently.  

Below:  Failed Hobby #4,231 
From the artist:  A local drag queen was offering 20 $ tennis lessons.  I bought a racket.  I bought tennis balls.  I never DM'd her.  She never DM'd me.  The racket has been sitting in the corner of my room ever since.  Never been used.  Until now.
Rhinestone Wilson TOUR SLAM tennis racket and ball.

The title, “Failed Hobby #4,231,” called to mind a work I’d seen many years ago at the Hirshhorn Museum in Washington DC, “To Hell with Paganini” by Arman (born Armand Pierre Fernandez).
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Arman was a French-American artist renowned for pioneering Nouveau Réalisme through radical "Accumulations" and slicing, burning, or smashing everyday objects like musical instruments and clocks. His sculptures are said to “transform mass-produced consumer waste into rhythmic, textured compositions.”

Similarly, Asher transformed an ordinary, mass-produced object – although one incapable of being shattered or fragmented – by adorning it with rhinestones (and flawlessly so – check out the racket’s strings).

By her title and description, the work represents a futile attempt to learn tennis, following previous unsuccessful endeavors, and – are you ready for this – the scintillating composition leads me to a momentous pun, one for which word-play enthusiasts will cheer exuberantly and joykillers and grumps who spurn humor mixed with wit will groan and grumble incessantly.  The shimmering opus suggests that...

“All that glitters is not goaled.”

Below:  Misc shots from the opening reception of "Residual Surrealisms" at AponteART Gallery in Chicago.  The show runs through September 4, 2026.  The gallery's website is HERE.