Roxy 2002

Editor: Standing here, I’m drawn to Tony DeLap’s "Roxy" from 2002. It's a striking sculpture, mostly wood, featuring a large black circle interrupted by a light wood crescent. It has an incomplete feel; like looking at a solar eclipse where the sun never comes back! What feelings or ideas does it conjure for you? Curator: Oh, “Roxy”! To me, it's DeLap being DeLap, ever the magician of perception. I think, he offers us an elegant puzzle. It whispers minimalism but shouts, "look closer!" That slice of pale wood, is it frame, is it support, or is it the moon taking a bite out of the night? The simplicity makes me think of stagecraft—a set piece, beautifully crafted, prompting us to fill in the narrative. What's your take on that tension between what’s present and what’s implied? Editor: That’s a great question, because there is an absence…a suggestion of a whole that’s been deliberately left out. The contrast is strong, right? Dark against light, circle against arc, fullness against…emptiness, I guess. Curator: Exactly! DeLap liked to play with your mind; with our sense of space, dimension, with geometric form. It almost has a meditative quality, don't you think? I can picture him grinning, knowing we're all tilting our heads trying to solve it. I'm curious, does the hard-edge aesthetic evoke for you any particular mood? Editor: I agree! Meditative, definitely! There's something about the precision that invites contemplation. Thanks! I think I understand how the beauty and enigma of the materials converge to spark the imagination. Curator: Absolutely! And that is, in itself, its greatest magic trick. It makes me feel very grounded.