Dene Leigh. Identify (Someone or Something) From Having Encountered Before, 2014; oil on linen; 51 x 62 inches. Courtesy of the artist.

Many of Leigh’s works deal specifically with the neuropsychological disorder called agnosia, which struck Leigh’s grandfather late in life after a stroke. Under the conditions of agnosia, the afflicted subject can see and hear normally but has difficulty identifying formerly familiar objects, people, sounds, and places—or is entirely unable to do so. It is common for someone with agnosia to not recognize the faces of people they know.

Dene Leigh. Agnosia, 2012; oil on linen; 47 x 61 in. Courtesy of the Artist.

Leigh constructs a representation of sensory disorder as an empathic mechanism to connect, understand, and explain the difficulties—emotional, psychological, and physical—that his grandfather and family members faced after the stroke-induced agnosia. In paintings like Identify (Someone or Something) From Having Encountered Before (2014) and Agnosia (2012), Leigh constructs a relatively literal yet engaging depiction of the altered state of his grandfather’s memory as it relates to facial recognition, and plays with ideas of documentation and portraiture that are historically and contemporaneously specific to photographs and paintings.

Dene Leigh. Paradise, 2014; oil on linen; 57 x 68 in. Courtesy of the Artist.

In both works he uses representational techniques such as trompe l’oeil to reveal and conceal. The identifying features (facial and otherwise) of these two figures are occluded, forcing the viewer into a visual state not dissimilar to that of Leigh’s grandfather. These figures could be the most recognizable people—his son or daughter, for example—but it is impossible to know. The details in the paintings, and the frayed edges portrayed in Agnosia in particular, allude to the fraying and damaged neural pathways in the brain of an agnosia sufferer. Perhaps whatever physical changes happen to the brain’s structure echo the wear and tear on antique or old objects, photographs, and paintings that occur due to neglect and the passing of time. Whether or not agnosia harms the brain in ways relatable to the damages that objects accrue over time is unclear, but there is an interesting potential relationship between the falsely aged materials painted into Leigh’s works and the condition of his grandfather’s brain.

Dene Leigh. A Picture and a Thousand Words, 2014; oil on linen; 57 x 68 in. Courtesy of the Artist.

In A Picture and a Thousand Words(2014), Leigh once again constructs hyper-real false images—a page from a notebook, a photograph, and an official document—to confront the effects agnosia has on memories of specific places. The items could have been taken from a diary entry, or a family record of a trip to the battlement or castle depicted in the photograph. By making the visual information identifiable, but the textual and more granular documentation unavailable, Leigh offers a more challenging depiction of memory loss: the ability to see, fully, but to not know; the experience of having an image but no words to describe it.

Dene Leigh. (French) Rico in the Middle, 2012; print, velvet, wood, pencil, acetate; 14 x 17 x 4 in. Courtesy of the Artist.

Although painting represents the bulk of Leigh’s work, he does create assemblage and sculptural works. One such work, (French) Rico in the Middle (2012), presents a sparse, reduced depiction of the processes of human memory and recognition. (French) Rico in the Middle introduces a more formal, cold, and mathematical language of memory that is inscribed in numbers and linear connections with a much-reduced color palette. The grid of small black cubes that cover the photographic print—four high by nine long—obscure what is beneath them, but in their stark blackness they open up holes in the image itself that burrow into the very fabric of memory itself, tearing loose the components of the image. It is a stark yet poignant reminder of how dependent we all are on such an imperfect, provocatively mutable and easily lost capacity—to remember.

Dene Leigh’s work forces the viewer to reevaluate—through confrontation with a highly personal history and lived experience—how one receives, retains, and recalls information by offering a series of unique reorganizations, occlusions, and juxtapositions of visual information most often coded and referred to as memory.

Dene Leigh is a London-based artist with a BFA in painting from Wimbledon College of Art, London, UK. His work has been shown in group exhibitions at: Sphinx Fine Art, London; Nunnery Gallery, London; and Dye House, London. Leigh was recently shortlisted for the Young Masters Art Prize. His work is in private collections throughout the UK and in Canada.

Wires Ripped (2009-10) Wood veneer, shellac. 61" x 29"

The unusual medium draws you in. A first glance might suggest that Taylor’s work is painted, but a closer look reveals that the compositions are actually blade-thin fragments of wood inlaid in panels. The pieces in the show are all crafted with pleasurable attention to detail: up-close viewing shows the joins to fit together perfectly without gaps, lumps, or smudges of glue. Taylor is self-taught, so her obvious facility with the fragile veneer is particularly impressive.

In Foreclosed, Taylor’s overarching concept was to respond to “the human impact of the short-sighted policies and greed that triggered millions of foreclosures.” The works in the exhibition can be divided into two categories: portraits of people, and portraits of destruction. Somewhat perversely, the work shines when it reveals the kicked walls, torn out electricals, or water-damaged ceilings of the vacant houses. These, such as the photorealistic Wires Ripped (2009-10), marry the materials and vision—wood veneer creating an image of ravaged drywall and wood studs—that moves the work beyond skill and into the realm of distinction. Taylor’s adept use of the medium is a reversal of the careless damage, creating a tense, almost anxious connection between the image and its flawless ground. Rendered in sumptuous detail, the ravaged drywall and cracked wood studs are a perfect stand-in for the economic and emotional destruction of domestic bliss laid to waste.

Squatter Doorway (2009) Wood veneer, shellac. 53" x 46 1/2"

Another example, the large Squatter Doorway (2009) is an interior view of a ragged hole in the exterior wall of a house, where wooden slats and scraps of decorative molding are nailed to make a sloppy latticework barricade against intruders. Beyond the slats are glimpses of the normally-invisible framing of the wall, and still further beyond, a peek into the yard and wooden siding of the house. What fascinates here, aside from the beauty and precision of the execution, is the conceptual dimensionality: wood is the structural material used to depict the material structure. There is a lucid circularity to it, a completeness that holds the subject matter to the physicality of the work. Another large piece, the installation Tap Left On (2009-10), portrays a water-damaged ceiling to the same brilliant effect.

Tap Left On (2009-10) Wood veneer, shellac. 71" x 75" x 48"

The portraits, unfortunately, don’t have the same conceptual texture. The Pyrographist (2009) is obviously executed with equal skill. A smiling bespectacled woman stands proudly in front of her creations, a series of wood-burned nature scenes on the paneled wall behind her. But without the ideological marriage of the subject to the medium, it falls flat.

The Pyrographist (2009) Wood veneer, pyrography, shellac. 46" x 40"

Interestingly, reviews of her work to date have not raised the issue of craft qua craft. Marquetry is a practice typically limited to popular subjects or patterning on functional objects like tables. Taylor’s work displays an unmistakable mastery of woodworking, unusual in the contemporary arts but vital to traditional craft. Instead of being a detractor, this association with folksiness seems to bolster the overall theme of the exhibition. By using an atypical yet unthreatening medium, Taylor reveals an accessible but still intriguing vision of loss and anger.