Pace Prints is pleased to announce an exhibition of four new etchings and additional silkscreens by Jake Longstreth, on view October 4 - November 2, 2024, at 536 West 22nd Street. An opening reception will be held at the gallery on Thursday, October 3, 6–8pm.
Explore Jake Longstreth's exhibition with Pace Prints in our online viewing room.
Jake Longstreth is known for his wry yet endeared depictions of American landscapes with a focus on the in-between spaces in the state of California. Amid the Southwest bramble, Longstreth anchors the viewer to signs of iconic global brands: the ubiquitous arches of a McDonald’s atop a hill, a FedEx truck nestled in the bushes, and Toys R’ Us and Hooters signage towering above highway hedges; their understated positions in space imbue them with subtle humor. The coexistence of the natural world and built environment sit with sweetness and irony, as Longstreth favors retail chains from an earlier zeitgeist to furnish otherwise timeless natural landscapes.
In his new hard ground etching series, Longstreth is interested in addressing contemporary themes using a traditional technique. His mark making – a combination of stippling, crosshatching, and striations – accumulates to gently reveal technological and corporate aspects of our world we might casually encounter at the edge of a parking lot or along a road. Palo Alto, 1970 is a snapshot of a time and place at the beginning of its emergence as the famed technological center of the world. The Santa Clara Valley, once named the "Valley of Heart's Delight" in the 19th century, would be known as Silicon Valley beginning in 1971. The etching is an imagined scene, where we see a large satellite dish nestled at the bottom of a hillside, with eucalyptus and palm trees in the foreground.
Along the 134 depicts a large, blackened palm tree intercepted by a eucalyptus tree, both non-native ornamental trees introduced to Southern California in the 19th century and are now a ubiquitous part of the landscape. Longstreth asks, “Is the palm tree dead, charred by a brush fire, or just dingy from decades of absorbing exhaust and smoke from the freeway it grows along?” Perhaps the answer is contained somewhere in the deposits of ink, but before we can form assumptions, the artist answers– “I DON’T KNOW.”
