Lost in Translation, a show that was on display in Gallery 102 from October first until October eleventh, works to show the relationship between language and art. In this small, intimate setting, each piece was made memorable. Gallery 102 is located on George Washington University’s campus and is completely student run. When first walking into the space, one wall in particular caught my eye. Purely in black and white was a large painting with abstract lines leading in every which way and the silhouette of a small bird perched upon a tree branch. And then, as if to frame this work, a poem was scrolled upon each side of this painting. This large-scale piece (panting by John Hayward and poem by Tyler Fulton) introduces what the show guarantees to inspire: the differences and similarities between art and language.

Continuing through the exhibit, a wide array of art is seen. There are pencil drawings, charcoal portraits, photographs, paintings, and even an abstract three-dimensional piece. Each piece is capable of drawing in the viewer and evoking new emotions and thoughts. Although, there were only roughly fifteen pieces hung on display, it was easy to spend nearly an hour reading the poetry, examining the art and getting lost amongst each piece.

Wandering through the exhibit to the beats from a student D.J., I was entranced. One of the larger displays filled my mind with questions. It was a series of sketches done by Crys Ghantous titled “People I Don’t Know.” This titled started my train of thought, each sketch was so detailed, and each face expressed so much emotion. These emotions I could read without words, and so the show’s title came to mind; language is not always necessary to comprehending someone. These people whose faces I could read did not promise I could comprehend their spoken words. In the simplicity of a line sketched upon a page by a young artist, I became familiar with a story. Although, I had to wonder what each individual would say? What would their spoken dialects teach me?

By the time of exiting the gallery, there was a clear relation between art and language. From the transformed, orange extension cord, coiled through an entire corner of the gallery (created by artist Lucy Gladstone), to poems about human nature, and even the abstract image of an ear, that is only noticeable if one peers deep enough into the colors splashed upon the canvas (painting by Emily Mihalik), this show will eloquently lead you through Gallery 102, encouraging discussion along the way. These young artists show great potential and their works guarantee to inspire. 

Bringing the Art in DC to You,

            Abigail Green