Adrian Armstrong: High's and Lo-Fi's
I walk into the eatery surrounding Co-Lab and it’s crumb-crunch quiet. Lunch is over and a few stragglers speckle the Valhalla-length cafeteria tables in the main hall as I make my way back to the open exhibit space in the back. The isolated gallery room hones my focus like the burnt sage sitting on a central platform, demanding a change in spirit and intention as I pass from the great hall into the midst of Adrian Armstrong’s opus. After the arresting quiet, I notice color. The gallery walls bare white. Each hanging piece screams a different, vivid background color. The faces filling those frames are sad, strong and black.
Highs and Lo-fi’s by Adrian Armstrong is a beautiful duet between image and sound that demands your full, immersed attention. It talks about a silent killer; something we don’t speak about enough. Armstrong uses visual, a combination of pen, acrylic, spraypaint and oil on wood, and audio, an EP of self-produced songs paired with each physical piece, to explore mental health in black culture. The paintings and music contain the faces and voices of young black people explaining their experiences with mental health. The stories echo pain we know too well, from struggles with depression and self-harm, to parents who threaten to beat the the mental illness out of their children. Black people have exercised quiet strength and resilience as a survival tactic in America for so long, and unpacking the generations of trauma and repression laced into each soul’s DNA demands at least two mediums. Armstrong weaves them wonderfully.
The Austin-based artist captures dichotomy, showcasing the strength and life and in his subjects’ vulnerability and depression. His ballpoint pen simultaneously perfects curly locks of hair and conveys cyclical frustrations. His deft brushstrokes complete and disrupt each piece where he chooses. His choice of wood is grounding, personable, and feels more human than canvas. The colorful hands that cover many of the faces jump off of the wood to convey choking, trying, and a range of bold emotion. They mask, mold and provide further depth to each face they adorn. All the while, beats laced with beleaguered black voices haunt headphones with heartbreaking recounts of silent struggles. This presentation is thoughtful and comprehensive, and demands reciprocal consideration from anyone existing in the space.
High’s and Lo-Fi’s grabs, pulls, hugs and questions anybody immersed in its message. Armstrong’s work may be off the walls now, but it lingers in the minds and hearts of anyone lucky enough to experience his exhibit. His colorful, creative call for attention and change hits home, demanding that we make the right room for black people to discuss, understand and heal mental illness.
