Maybe that's part of the cat and mouse game. Sometimes the front side is trying to capture the back. Sometimes the back is trying to hold the front.

Willa Cosinuke's canvases originate as single units that grow into their final dimensions with the steady addition of irregularly-shaped panels – the backs of the works each imprinted with a unique pattern of concatenated surfaces, physically forming the back-brace for the front sides' entropic states. Both the figurative elements and individual marks are gravitationally pulled and flexed by their surroundings, sensitively building up Cosinuke's vibrational panels. While the motivation behind the structures is to create more area to paint within, the process gives way to a performative dance between reality and the unseen.

In Red Painting, the skeletal wooden support is dictated by the shape of velour scraps, some with bleach prints of leaves and footprints. A parallax forms as gaps between the pieces are filled with wood. Cosinuke thinks of this pink realm as raw like a mollusk, spiraling out of its center of gravity. The painting is both buried and uncovered like a faded pink scarf in a junkyard. In the case of Brego, which began as an image of a building facade, reveals itself as a union of mythical images, reaching its final form as a wind-tossed steed held down by the straps of a cinematic cross. Trevor Lawrence, a star quarterback, is returned to hard gladiator labor, wielding near-life size 2 x 4 planks, as if assembling his own field enclosure. The blonde in Hitching Post collapses and arches her back in pained pleasure as the sky swirls above. In Drop Everything Now, we pass a room of instruments, the band nowhere to be seen… the carved bodies of the guitars, drums and basses in jumbled repose, heavy, but enough depth to enter and walk through. The collection of distinct musical components parallel the formation of the surface, in both instances, elements harmonize into a whole.

What is caught in the middle? Cosinuke approaches the idea of worlds colliding, as the realm behind rises up-- how can it be captured and shaped to retain an inherent quality? The balance of ethereal light and weight as seen in the shift of headlights to the hardlined planks, the long exposure of sparklers at night to riverstones. With pushed hands and feet, Cosinuke is pressing and stamping the immaterial into form. As they are entrapped in her constructed webs, the subjects are hummed into expanse. Internally wedged and shoved, segments coil toward the outskirts, breathing new air into frame.