"Cutouts" Artist Talk Oct 9th at Hammock Gallery
Debut solo opened in PTown, then a nor'easter washed out my talk, don't worry, we rescheduled for next week.
From the desk of Jak Ritger
What an action packed September it has been. My favorite month for many reasons saw two exhibitions mounted: a group show at FR MoCA and my debut solo at Hammock. I spent a whirlwind week on the cape installing in Provincetown and sleeping in Wellfleet. One of the neighbors gave us the scoop on the creaky old Victorian that my family rented. It was one half of a house that used to sit on Billingsgate Island, the spit of land off Eastham that was swallowed up by the ocean in the early 1900's. A fitting spot to work on last minute materials for a show about deep Cape history.
9.18 to 10.11 ⇾ Artist Talk 10.9 ⇽ 6-8pm
@ Hammock Gallery, 361 #C Commercial St. Provincetown
As the show took form in the week leading up to the 18th, I started to reflect on the long road to this moment. I had been dreaming about this space for years and seriously considering how to augment the architecture for an exhibition for at least two. As I wrote in my New England art travelogue for Ocula last summer, the building itself is a work of art. And so, I wanted to showcase the beauty of the weathered wood that has been expertly restored with white-stained slats from open-pan salt production in 1800's. The drift of light, the framing of cross-beams were already saying so much about the time-eaten sublimity of the Cape. All I really needed to do was anchor the ship with my art practice and it all slid right into place.
In the run-up to the show, I was very pleased to received art press and newspaper coverage of the show. I talked to two journalist that really dug in and expounded stories from the show. It was quite humbling to see Jacqueline Houton's blurb about my scrappy little solo next to big time institutional blockbusters in Boston Art Reviews fall roundup list.
Outer cape resident, Pat Kearns profiled Cutouts for local weekly, The Provincetown Independent. In a thoughtful couple graphs' Kearns covers the deep Cape references (more on that soon) embedded in the image-transfer on acrylic light installation hanging center stage in the main room of Hammock. It was so cool to grab a copy of the paper and read over breakfast at Far Land Provisions.
The Independent
Expanding beyond the standard exhibition space, I created a public projection piece under the raised gallery floor. During the Covid shutdown, the Hammock proprietors took it upon themselves to lift up the whole dang building and put it on stilts. This renovation and restoration project extended the sea-proofed timeline by at least another hundred years and created an 'under-the-pier' moment (as I like to call it). This space felt fraught with symbolism, especially in Provincetown, and so I created a video piece to play in the evenings, activating the sand below.
Also outside of the main area, I secured a vinyl on acrylic piece on the deck obstructing the beautiful harbor view. While spending time at Hammock, I noticed that some visitors will wander in, glance a the work, and then walk dumbfoundedly out onto the deck to take in the sunset over the harbor and probably snap a selfie. And so, I felt it was necessary to augment this experience with an installation piece I originally created for a group show in 2024. The piece, The Noösphere of Global Consciousness, first hung over the infamous neon letters "P A S" at the Pasta Planet show house in Brighton, MA. The moth light neon glow is traded for the golden pink silver skim of the bay.
Upstairs, a third extra-spatial installation takes shape in the attic art storage room. I created a kinetic light sculpture in response to a painting by Budd Hopkins, a foundational researcher in the field of alien abduction. The painting, that is part of Hammock's historic collection, hangs on the side as light from the spinning tic-tac refracts across. I was mashing up the stories that Hopkins collected from hypnosis regression therapy, with the tale of the Mooncussers that gives the show it's name. Mooncusser monument: for all those who get swept under is a kind of beacon to call home the spirits of those who got lost along the way, either in deep space or deep sea. Like the projection, it is best experienced at night.
After the brilliant weather I enjoyed during install week and opening night, things turned choppy. I was planning on returning the following weekend to give an artist talk. The local press had circulated the date and visitors seemed hooked "oh cool, I will come back next week for the talk." But, true to the intense natural forces that I was channelling with my show, the Cape showed it's temperament and a grand ol' nor'easter blew in washing out the weekend of the talk. Luckily, gallerist, art handler and fabricator extradinaire, Nick Schlerf agreed to extend the run of the show and reschedule the talk for October 9th. A flurry of posters were made, updated and posted. At this point, I am content giving my talk to a chorus of laughing gulls, but any help in getting the word is greatly appreciated. So please forward my post to your relatives, distant cousins, old coworkers or anyone you think my dig it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Reflecting on my debut solo showing, I am finding more layers to the title Cutouts. Initially, I wanted to signal the image making process of selecting, removing, collaging that is central to my approach. Then secondly, I wanted to drop a reference to spy lingo: a cutout is a shell company or organization that is created by an intelligence agency or clandestine body in order to disguise the flow money or assets. Most famously (in the artworld) are the cutouts that were used by the C.I.A. to secretly back a number of key Abstract Expressionist exhibitions in the 60s and 70s. The dual movement of the word lent itself smoothly to my mission of connecting my work in paranoid military history with my more personal photographic and pictorial work. After going through the process of conceptualizing, painting, assembling, printing, installing and contextualizing the show, Cutouts began to take on a third meaning. I started to see it as a slogan for the process of creating a solo show itself. I was finding bits of my practice that have been cutout of other exhibitions, too in-the-weeds, off topic or just not right. I was carving out space for the work to be seen on its own, together. In this way, I started to see that Art can be a cutout of the everyday.
Some more flash snaps from the opening by Jonathan Peterson - 9.18.2026
Hammock Gallery is open Friday evenings + Sat & Sun 10-6 - Questions and inquires please contact: hammockshopgallery@gmail.com