In a moving ensemble of an eclectic combination of works, typically on the gentler side of scale, Cheremoya presents to the public that extension of imaginary goodness which is absent the stirring of confusion, which can be the failed aim at vainglory in presenting goodness to the subjective lens. These coyish, if not diminutive pieces nevertheless absorb the subjective mind with a pleasant apprehension of novelty that is compartmental in statures.

‘Fissionscape’, 2025. Bridget Hamel.
Graphite on paper.
Diptych: 50 x 38.5 in (each), 50 x 77 in (total) / 127 x 97.8 cm (each), 127 x 195.6 cm (total). Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya. All Rights Reserved.
Photo: Evan Bedford

No doubt Fissionscape is relatively grand to the likes of Naoki Sutter-Shudo’s Corridor and Philoméne 11, with their architecture which impresses order that is the quintessence of geometrical construction. Before remarking on that concreteness of form, the mystery of Ms. Bridget Hamel’s Fissionscape, with its graphite drawing, requires a conscientious decrypting of the contours, which do indeed appear geometrical at moments in the composition’s space. To affirm a breakdown of parts – the prefix in the work’s title – is to relate by necessity the rectilineal and circular completeness to the oblong so softly contoured to prompt curiosity. The stillness that resides in what is otherwise conceptually dynamic – if one were conscious of atomic detonation – informs the eye with a quietude. A lurking, though? With such ostensible torpor? I do not see a decay in this panoramic, with the assertion of a diptych consistent with the meditation on changing order. From the formal to the informal. From the formed with human mind’s exertion at perfect completeness, unto that healthy and proper release of detail, so specified and weighed by the temporal nature of civilized conduct. There is that further enjoyment of the work’s simplicity with graphite, a contrast that does not distract nor affirm per se a Naturality to the artistic vision. It is a study, not a disintegration. And therefore a creation, not a vandalizing of stability. Unto, perhaps, that freedom from constraint?

‘Rear Sight (Nest)’, 2025. Imogen Brent.
Steel, found iron sight. 23 1/2 x 21 x 4 in / 59.7 x 53.3 x 10.2 cm. Courtesy the artist and Cheremoya. All Rights Reserved.
Photo: Collin Clarke

Continuing with remarking on a desirable challenge to namesake, Ms. Imogen Brent’s forging of foraging steel parts with her Rear Sight (Nest), provides an industrial affirmation of reshaping. I do not perceive a recycling claim with the arrival at a curvilinear piece – with a bluntly masculine connection exposed so nakedly central to the apex of the work’s geometry. I see delicacy, as affirmed by its gentle scale; with clearly no dangerousness to the ends with a curly polishing act demonstrated phenomenally. I’m drawn by the title to perceive an incubation; a sense of placement of return. Not extending past one’s own previous residency. An understanding of beginning to know where one will end. Maybe this is where a recycling of form, in a metallic understand of dust to dust, Ms. Brent affirms the human spirit not to be negligent of.

‘Corridor’, 2021. Naoki Sutter-Shudo.
Wood, enamel, flashe, stainless steel. 7 1/2 x 17 x 9 in / 19.1 x 43.2 x 22.9 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya.
Photo: Naoki Sutter-Shudo

‘Philomène 11’, 2024. Naoki Sutter-Shudo.
Enameled wood, wax
5 1/4 x 5 1/4 x 5 1/4 in
13.3 x 13.3 x 13.3 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya. All Rights Reserved. Photo: Naoki Sutter-Shudo

Back to the architectural format, quaint to be sure, of Ms. Sutter-Shudo’s…the stern immaculacy of paint, perfectly polished with such equality of structure, is a healthy counterpoint to the aforementioned Fissionscape’s deconstruction of order. It is rude to consider such ideas of Ms. Sutter-Shudo’s as dollhouses. Playhouses these are not; these are representations of perfection that the human mind with body is capable of commanding with her spirit. The stature provides an emptiness of daunting and therefore invites these works to be displayed on mantels, tables, &c as accentuations to personalities that affirm perfection is in the details. 

‘Untitled (rose hips)’, 2023. Vanessa Gingold.
Handmade abaca paper, wood, acrylic.
28 x 42 x 30 in / 71.1 x 106.7 x 76.2 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya. All Rights Reserved.
Photo: Vanesa Gingold

Furthering along such gentleness, with the wonderfully playful detailing of a, dare I say, dash of whimsical gyrocentricity with Vanessa Gingold Untitled (internal bloom 2). At 13” x 17” x 7”, this piece fits above a writing desk. A gentle illustration of creative order and that spasmodic yet not ill-spastic gyration that affirms creativity as plastic in its necessary attribution of malleability to the human conscious experience. For stagnation is death. This is sincerely good for life.

‘Rental’, 2025. Madelyn Kellum. Oil on canvas. 24 x 18 in / 61 x 45.7 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya. Photo: Evan Bedford

‘How Much More’, 2025. Madelyn Kellum. Oil on canvas 40 x 30 in / 101.6 x 76.2 cm. Courtesy of the artist and Cheremoya.
Photo: Evan Bedford

Last but not least, Ms. Madelyn Kellum introduces inviting pieces of candied playfulness with her oil on canvases – with a tactile impressionability which informs more than protoypical oils. It imbues ther artworks with the amalgam of ideas which are positively vague in the certainty of the theatre that is portrayed, reducing if not eliminating narrative to what is otherwise, simply and plainly worded as beauty. Her pinkish – rosy, I submit – hues adds that living color which is irresistibly pleasant, and fitting for corridors to lighten up. Enliven, then, is a good representation of her artful expression to the human mind.

For more information please contact:

Cheremoya

2700 W Ave 34
Los Angeles, CA 90065

office@cheremoya.la

+1 (213) 807-2099