'Phased' at Burlington's S.P.A.C.E. Gallery Takes on the Eclipse (2024)

Chinese astronomers began to predict solar eclipses in the fourth century BC. Scientists have known the day and time, down to the second, of the April 8, 2024, totality for ages. Nikki Laxar didn't need quite that much time to prepare for "Phased," but the eclipse-inspired exhibit was a no-brainer for a place with a thing for space. That is, S.P.A.C.E. — a studio-gallery located in Burlington's Soda Plant. Laxar, the owner and curator, called upon six other local artists whose work shares a "theme of the cosmos and the atmosphere we know," according to the exhibit description.

"I curated the artists and let them choose what to exhibit," Laxar clarified. "I asked them to submit five to 10 pieces."

Accordingly, there are at least five works from each artist; they vary in mediums, style and size, as well as how they convey celestial phenomena.

In a couple of her lovely watercolors, Deana Allgaier paints the now-familiar image of totality, but other works convey the kind of star-studded nighttime sky seen in areas with low light pollution. "Across the Universe in Turquoise" is one such serene scene: a reflective lake surrounded by shadowy conifers and an eruptive aurora borealis. For a small painting, it captures unknowable majesty.

Susan Smereka's seven mixed-media collages abstract the cosmic concept, but something explosive is happening in "You Cannot Ignore." The square composition is a result of printing, drawing, sewing and tearing. A large black round shape with spiky extensions dominates the upper left, with shredded paper falling from it like ash onto the bottom of the frame. Quick marks in hot colors burst across the image, resembling fireworks.

Though best known for her printmaking and collage works, Smereka's largest contribution to "Phased" features figuration in oil and gold leaf on burlap. More a wall hanging than a painting, per se, "Hemera Eclipsed" depicts both animals and gods affiliated with mystical activities in the sky throughout history. Hemera was the Greek goddess of daylight.

Mike Konrad literally nailed the art of the orb with large-scale works using repurposed old doors and other found materials. Three of his creations consist of wood exactingly cut into skinny triangles and fitted together around an off-center vanishing point. While the pockmarks and chipped paint on the wood betray its material origins, the designs result in a visual vortex that might yank a viewer into another dimension. Don't look too long, just in case.

According to Laxar, the most unusual piece from Konrad owes its life to epic dumpster diving — for old keyboards. "Everything Grows Stronger in the Light" is composed of some 3,500 keys from PCs. A large sphere in the center of the assemblage consists mainly of lighter-colored keys — with some words subtly spelled out — while the background is all black keys.

Two other Konrad works have the same composition, but the spheres — one white, one black — are made of multiple layers of found cord wrapped in inscrutable patterns and attached to antique nails. Forget the moon; these works are mandalas.

Laxar herself contributed a dozen analog collages to the exhibition. Working with photographs from old magazines and other ephemera, she has long slipped a celestial element into her creative adaptations of women, wildlife and botanicals. In a small shadow-box frame, "Embrace" subtly reveals an eclipsed sun behind the sweet image of a mother and infant. Blossoms and butterflies flutter around them. The woman's face is a miniature constellation. To the baby, after all, she is the universe.

Kristin Richland brings the cute. In paintings suggestive of children's books, she mixes bunnies and the cosmos; a nostalgic viewer might immediately recall the novel (or film) Watership Down. In "Sunset Moon," a rabbit leaps skyward through swirling clouds, apparently striving for a lunar landing. On the nose for this exhibition, "Totality" features the fully eclipsed sun and a fluffle of bunnies gazing up at it in wide-eyed wonder.

Erin Bundock aptly embraces not only the theme of "Phased" but also the circle. In five round paintings, her characteristic cartoony figures variously knit the dark side of the moon, catch a comet, dream of the Milky Way and lovingly hold the sun. In the largest piece, "Dance of the Eclipse," constellation-like figures in electric purple link arms and do-si-do.

Jen Blount's small acrylic-on-wood paintings morph from classic moonlit landscape to utter abstraction. The family of colors in the former becomes a quilt of squares, triangles and pyramids, with shifting light and shadow, in "Blue Sky Spectrum." In her version of "Totality," a black circle with an aura of gold appears at the center of geometric forms. Some pieces are removed to let the starlight in. Call it sacred geometry.

The solar eclipse is over, and Vermont's visiting hordes have returned home. But the unforgettable phenomenon lives on in artworks. "Phased" is a worthy homage.