Kennedy

In a world that is choking from oppression, overstimulation, and disappointment, where can you turn? Well, to yourself, of course.

On the ground floor of the UTA Artist Space in Atlanta, Georgia was a pulsing exhibition filled with all of life’s joys. Food, community, and self-obsession flowed throughout the space, decorated in bows, gems, and most importantly, glitter.

When I first entered this exhibition on opening night, it felt like a party. The cozy space, lined with a seeping hot pink light, embraced a gleaming photobooth that always seemed to be occupied. Upstairs, on the main floor, drinks were being poured, pink and orange floral arrangements were everywhere, and the DJ was keeping the vibrations high with Pinkpanthress and Kaytranada.

The exhibition was an optimistic snapshot into the artist’s, Ariel Dannielle, life. Pleasure and contentment were the most common themes across the ten pieces. Her works are known for being portraits, featuring mostly her and the people that she is closest to. There is a level of self-recognition that is admirable. With saturated colors and action shots, Ariel controls the space that she takes up. She refuses to whimper under perception or humbleness. It should also be noted her love for the city that she was born in. There are hints of this in many of her works, from an Atlanta magazine mockup to Sweetwater cans in the foreground that offer gratitude to her foundation.

This exhibition serendipitously opened days before the release of the Document Journal article written by Solange Knowles, where she describes the purposeful action of portraiture.

I’ve made many transitions.
Transitions in life, and transitions in time.
I’ve spent a lot of time exploring the spaces I want to occupy; the places I want to call home; the work that, in twenty years, is going to matter the most to me; the artifacts I’d like to leave behind as proof I was here…

… I see both the permanence and fleetingness of life. I can pinpoint the day, and relive the joy in my smile, or have compassion for the sorrow in my eyes. The way my body felt that day. I can feel the way that nature continues to hold me. The way that the objects around me inform where I am going. I can tell by my posture, or the tension in my lips, if I am feeling confident, or unsure… My relationship to time is changing. My anchors have changed. My body has changed.

“Solange continues to examine intimacy in transition through portraiture series”, Document Journal

After reading this, it became clear to me how Feels Like Glitter, and all of Ariel’s works before this exhibition, are more than the Leo sun “all about me” stereotype. I feel confident that was me projecting my own discomfort and fear of being inconvenient by announcing my presence and allowing others to have their eyes on me. Each work can remind yourself of your own journey, putting a stamp in the passport of your life, letting everyone know that you were here. And in that way, perhaps she taps into her joy, and if you got to see this exhibition before it closed yesterday, you were able to tap into your own joy with Ariel & friends as the conduit. Feels Like Glitter was a chance to revitalize oneself so that maybe we can turn around and help crack open the darkness of all that weighs on us, internally and externally. At the minimum, like Solange says, “It feels good in this moment to just make images as reminders of time.” (Document, December 2023)

With love and shamelessness,

K

This exhibition was opened from December 1, 2023 to January 14, 2024. I really tried to write this while it was open, but I couldn’t find the time or motivation. Anyways, cheers and happy new year!