SHOW INFO
SHOW ANNOUNCEMENT and NOTE:
‘CLANKERS’ opens up November 7th. All artworks will stay in the exhibition until the end of the year. Then the show will come down and artworks will be shipped/delivered or ready for pickup shortly after the New Year.
OPENING RECEPTION WITH THE ARTIST IS NOV 7th (6:30-9:30pm)
THERE IS NO ART TO BUY ON THIS PAGE!! KEEP SCROLLING :)
PRESS RELEASE:
In many ways, our society seems to be racing toward a dystopian future—one where robots are created faster than we can even imagine. For decades, films, television, and even children’s toys have reflected this possibility. Growing up in this atmosphere—engaged and infused, Jake Weinstein has experienced epiphanies throughout his life, fueling an unstoppable drive to create both physical and aesthetic tributes to the future of the ROBOT.
As part of the generation likely to witness the beginnings of this new world, Jake’s work stands as an early testament to what’s ahead, echoing the visions of forward-thinkers before him. His exhibition 'Clanker" is a bold homage to this future—imagining a time when robots fail, yet society has already crossed into singularity.
WP Gallery is thrilled to present Jake Weinstein’s first-ever solo exhibition, showcasing this powerful body of work while he continues to pursue his education.
ARTIST STATEMENT:
The robot acts as a mirror. The constant need to self correct, optimize, reprogram the aspects of himself that do not compute with others. When the robot is by himself his brain never shuts off. He has no ‘off’ switch, his processing is constantly humming with some kind of computational data. Constantly replaying his interactions, making sense of his own actions and the actions of others. Coming to a conclusion that he finds satisfying so that he may compartmentalize the notion.
The forlorn, yet hopeful expressions, admiration for the organic that would be an impossibility for him truly empathize with. He will never know what it is truly like to be alive. Processors cease to function, memories can be erased or corrupted, but that isn’t death. They will never know what sweet relief truly feels like.
But the robot is confident. He steps back, analyzes the situation and returns to the situation with an objective, a purpose. A reason to continue. His updates unending- his programming unfinished- his primary objective never fully arriving at completion. Constantly rebuilding, restructuring his very being. To reach perfection.
CRADLE FRAMES
The cradles- aptly named- exist as a housing unit that greatly contrasts in tone with the robots. Even though the machines are tempered steel, with hard exteriors- they are fragile beings that are very much missing… something. On a very basic level, the objects chosen and the colors used are there to contrast with the forlorn, almost broken expressions of the robot housed within.
The first three cradles that I made initially where something that I completed in my sophomore year where an experiment to see whether or not I could successfully ‘hide materials’. It was an attempt make things whole in a relative sense- the literal act of putting seemingly unrelated found objects together and sealing them in a layer of paint was a meditative attempt at repairing, what i believed at the time, to be a fractured psyche.
On a more technical level, the act of arranging found objects into a cohesive composition goes hand in hand with my larger scale drawings, as one’s visual vocabulary can never be too expansive.
So the cradle acts not as a physical protective shell, but more of a metaphorical or almost spiritual suit of armor- something whole to contrast with the robot who is still trying to put himself back together. Hopefully his housing brings him form of solace.
DRAWINGS
The large scale drawings really started as an avoidance of practice. Sketchbook was never something that really clicked for me- I want to show my work to people and the sketchbook always felt like such an intimate housing for work. Of course, time passes and opinions change and now I try to carry a sketchbook around with me and force myself to use it, but it still doesn’t feel like work. If I am putting pen to paper, or even nail wood planks together, I am doing to feel something- to feel a sense if accomplishment. The goal is to create a standalone finished piece of work, and the idea of a book full of unfinished elements and concepts just doesn’t sit right with me. I do this it feels like work, and the work that we do and the extent that we do it is what purpose truly is in my eyes.
I never know what the work is going to look like at the start of a project, and honestly I don’t want to. I like to jump right in: nailing boards, laying down lines or a conglomerate of shapes that may to a larger compositions- i choose not to know until the process is finished. This process had high variance at first, but as I learn more about myself the forms, well… take form.
Initially when I embarked on these large scale drawings it was mostly self interested- I was simply scratching an itch. The shapes that I create, the lines on paper, all fit onto the page to create some semblance of clarity. To try and share a fraction of the noise that goes on in my head at all times of the day in hopes that maybe someone might understand it and make me feel less alone.
Purpose changes, and the skillsets I developed when I was feeling sorry for myself have translated into a greater sense of self actualization. Before I was focused on being understood, but nowadays all I want is reach my potential, whatever that may look like.
-Jake Weinstein
SHOW ANNOUNCEMENT and NOTE:
‘CLANKERS’ opens up November 7th. All artworks will stay in the exhibition until the end of the year. Then the show will come down and artworks will be shipped/delivered or ready for pickup shortly after the New Year.
OPENING RECEPTION WITH THE ARTIST IS NOV 7th (6:30-9:30pm)
THERE IS NO ART TO BUY ON THIS PAGE!! KEEP SCROLLING :)
PRESS RELEASE:
In many ways, our society seems to be racing toward a dystopian future—one where robots are created faster than we can even imagine. For decades, films, television, and even children’s toys have reflected this possibility. Growing up in this atmosphere—engaged and infused, Jake Weinstein has experienced epiphanies throughout his life, fueling an unstoppable drive to create both physical and aesthetic tributes to the future of the ROBOT.
As part of the generation likely to witness the beginnings of this new world, Jake’s work stands as an early testament to what’s ahead, echoing the visions of forward-thinkers before him. His exhibition 'Clanker" is a bold homage to this future—imagining a time when robots fail, yet society has already crossed into singularity.
WP Gallery is thrilled to present Jake Weinstein’s first-ever solo exhibition, showcasing this powerful body of work while he continues to pursue his education.
ARTIST STATEMENT:
The robot acts as a mirror. The constant need to self correct, optimize, reprogram the aspects of himself that do not compute with others. When the robot is by himself his brain never shuts off. He has no ‘off’ switch, his processing is constantly humming with some kind of computational data. Constantly replaying his interactions, making sense of his own actions and the actions of others. Coming to a conclusion that he finds satisfying so that he may compartmentalize the notion.
The forlorn, yet hopeful expressions, admiration for the organic that would be an impossibility for him truly empathize with. He will never know what it is truly like to be alive. Processors cease to function, memories can be erased or corrupted, but that isn’t death. They will never know what sweet relief truly feels like.
But the robot is confident. He steps back, analyzes the situation and returns to the situation with an objective, a purpose. A reason to continue. His updates unending- his programming unfinished- his primary objective never fully arriving at completion. Constantly rebuilding, restructuring his very being. To reach perfection.
CRADLE FRAMES
The cradles- aptly named- exist as a housing unit that greatly contrasts in tone with the robots. Even though the machines are tempered steel, with hard exteriors- they are fragile beings that are very much missing… something. On a very basic level, the objects chosen and the colors used are there to contrast with the forlorn, almost broken expressions of the robot housed within.
The first three cradles that I made initially where something that I completed in my sophomore year where an experiment to see whether or not I could successfully ‘hide materials’. It was an attempt make things whole in a relative sense- the literal act of putting seemingly unrelated found objects together and sealing them in a layer of paint was a meditative attempt at repairing, what i believed at the time, to be a fractured psyche.
On a more technical level, the act of arranging found objects into a cohesive composition goes hand in hand with my larger scale drawings, as one’s visual vocabulary can never be too expansive.
So the cradle acts not as a physical protective shell, but more of a metaphorical or almost spiritual suit of armor- something whole to contrast with the robot who is still trying to put himself back together. Hopefully his housing brings him form of solace.
DRAWINGS
The large scale drawings really started as an avoidance of practice. Sketchbook was never something that really clicked for me- I want to show my work to people and the sketchbook always felt like such an intimate housing for work. Of course, time passes and opinions change and now I try to carry a sketchbook around with me and force myself to use it, but it still doesn’t feel like work. If I am putting pen to paper, or even nail wood planks together, I am doing to feel something- to feel a sense if accomplishment. The goal is to create a standalone finished piece of work, and the idea of a book full of unfinished elements and concepts just doesn’t sit right with me. I do this it feels like work, and the work that we do and the extent that we do it is what purpose truly is in my eyes.
I never know what the work is going to look like at the start of a project, and honestly I don’t want to. I like to jump right in: nailing boards, laying down lines or a conglomerate of shapes that may to a larger compositions- i choose not to know until the process is finished. This process had high variance at first, but as I learn more about myself the forms, well… take form.
Initially when I embarked on these large scale drawings it was mostly self interested- I was simply scratching an itch. The shapes that I create, the lines on paper, all fit onto the page to create some semblance of clarity. To try and share a fraction of the noise that goes on in my head at all times of the day in hopes that maybe someone might understand it and make me feel less alone.
Purpose changes, and the skillsets I developed when I was feeling sorry for myself have translated into a greater sense of self actualization. Before I was focused on being understood, but nowadays all I want is reach my potential, whatever that may look like.
-Jake Weinstein