In school, I had a professor use the term “Art Gap” a lot during critiques. Not sure if the term was of his own personal art vernacular (Google turned up nothing) as it was the last I ever heard anyone use it in a sentence. Art gap refers (so this professor proclaimed) to the distance between the artist’s intention and the viewer’s perception of a work of art.
“Art gap” is a tricky thing—if the “gap” is close, then your work is deemed “literal.” Too far, and the audience misses the point completely. What makes the alchemy of art gap so difficult to grasp is that it solely relies on the viewer. Being that (as viewers) we are all different, our mileages (or millimeters) will vary.
When you visit Gallery 31, think about how Artist in Residence Allison Uttley’s work affects you. Make note of what thoughts and memories race through your mind. Before you leave, read her proposal for the project and see how your art gap measures up.

Allison and Vince, discussing the finer points of metaphysical Mylar.
Last week, Vince Hazen, Head of the Academy Art Center at Linekona, and Shawn Eichman, Curator of Asian Art, visited Uttley and critiqued her work—one of the benefits of the residency. I sat in on the visits and found it fascinating to observe how Vince and Shawn digested and interpreted the work, and how they arrived at their critiques and suggestions. Sorry, I’m not going to go into what was said (they went deep), but I will say that the distance of perspective from a museum curator (Eichman) to that of an artist (Hazen) is pretty wide. Yet, their views were completely valid and very helpful to Allison; she has a lot to think over as she prepares for her thesis in April.
You have one more weekend to see Allison at work— her last day as Artist in Residence is Oct. 25. Drop by this Saturday and Sunday!


Yesterday, I popped in to see what Allison was up to. There were more balloons, the shapes and scale of them have gotten more diverse. A few touch both floor and ceiling simultaneously, which begins to toy with your sense of proportion. One balloon caught my eye.
“Hey, it’s Penelope!” I said.
“Who’s Penelope?” asked Allison.
“You know Penelope, our big bronze sculpture in Central Court.”
“hmm, I’ll have to go up there and take a look…”
Pareidolia is the phenomenon where something significant and profound is seen or heard in random and ambiguous sounds and sights. (Remember the Virgin Mary on a slice of toast? Pareidolia.)
Watching Allison’s work evolve in gallery 31, I can’t help but give each form a name, a personality, make them “real,” assign them as significant. These oddly shaped ballooned blobs do nothing but slowly sway back and forth. They make no noise, have no expression, but there is a life to them. They exist in the space, same as I, alone with my thoughts. It is not unlike riding the bus, only more quiet, more cool, and less stinky.
Check out Allison’s wonderland…three weekends left!
Gallery 31 Art Studio.
Saturdays 10am-4:30pm, Sundays 1-5pm
through Oct 18
Today is Museum Day, organized by Smithsonian Magazine, and people have been taking advantage of their free passes. So far more than 250 people have come with their print outs. Thanks everyone! So much is going on—there are a lot of ways to be part of the art at the Academy these days.

This is Nelson, who studies Japanese, in the exhibition “Hokusai’s Summit: Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji.” He’s carefully crafting a haiku—in kanji! He explained that one of the lines refers to Buddha Amida. What an extraordinary young man. Once he’s done, his haiku will be placed in a scroll that is part of the exhibition. Anyone can come and contemplate the woodblock prints and write a haiku about what they experience.
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There’s something bittersweet about balloons—they serve as fluffy milestones, marking times of achievement and worth, yet they also remind you that those moments are just that, and can unexpectedly pop, deflate or just float away. We live for moments, and in art it is often the moment of completion that measures its worth. For the artist, though, the brainstorm, the process, and the execution is equally important. It is more often than not, what keeps creative souls coming back for more.
Print and balloon maker, Allison Uttley is the first of four artists in residence this year here at the Academy. Funded by the Arthur and Mae Orvis Foundation, each AIR gets full use of the Museum Learning Center’s Gallery 31 and Art Studio for six weeks. The residency, which was conceived last June, is open to University of Hawaii–Mânoa art grad students and recent MFA recipients of the program. Unique to these islands, the artist in residence program offers a tremendous opportunity for fresh new talent to get their foot in the door of Hawai’i’s art scene.
Follow the signs and check out Allison Uttley as she creates balloons, er, floating sculptures in Gallery 31 Art Studio TONIGHT at ARTafterDARK. She will also be here every weekend through October 25.
aloHAA doesn’t cover only Academy goings on. We like to highlight notable art events around town—we just want people looking at art, no matter where it is. Don’t let last year’s lackluster UH graduate art show (it was marked by poor execution and lack of well-thought-out ideas) keep you from seeing what the students are up to this year. It’s an exciting exhibition that inhabits the gallery space well. (Bravo to Art Dept chair Gaye Chan and the rest of the hardworking faculty.) And it illustrates how local art venues can nourish each other—Allison Uttley’s mural, the charting of a marriage, makes it clear that she took inspiration and new technique from her experience as an assistant to Megan Wilson at thirtyninehotel. San Francisco-based Wilson, with Los Angeles artist Carolyn Castaño, did the explosive wall installation “This Fever I Can’t Resist” at thirtyninehotel last year as part of its artist-in-residence program 39CARP.



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