A visual antidote for this flatulent football weekend

A quick deke around the beer-fueled crowds at the overcharged Yaletown hotspots will land you in the pristine, almost floating world of Carol Prusa’s curious disks and spheres on display at Jennifer Kostuik Gallery. 

It was a smallish, audibly quiet opening night Thursday as these things go, but the work here almost commanded all jaws to drop softly. When you’re compelled to view each trippy sculptural world thisclose you must whisper your reactions — which are somewhere along the lines of, “Unfreakingbelieveable.”

It’s why Prusa did not need to raise her voice beyond conversational level to talk about her inspirations (mathematics, popular culture, biology, nature) and technique: hundreds of hours for each piece, layering meticulous drawing and painting using brushes only a few hairs thick or wire.

I am a sucker for conceptual work carried by the kind of craftsmanship that can only result from a lifetime of devotional practice. In Prusa’s case, it’s nearing 40 years of dedication that now includes attending her shows all over the world as well as teaching at the university level. 

When asked at the opening why she chose a monochromatic palette she said that she used to express her work in colour when she lived in the Midwest but since moving to Florida found the bright backdrop a little too much, so the silvers, whites, greys and blacks (and pinpoints of LED lighting from within) offered some respite, some equilibrium.

Kind of like what this show offers, in the thick of the sensual assault that is the football industrial complex at its apex.