A painting by former Truchas resident Kathleen Morris depicts a lone and naked standing figure in a nondescript space holding a bird's nest in her right hand with the other hand poised below; the nest may or may not be empty. Facing the viewer, the figure is positioned below a group of blackbirds — crows, ravens, grackles, starlings? — sitting on a suspended support that spans the width of the composition. Given that, such an image might seem contrived, if not maudlin; but there's more to Gift (2009) that greets the eye and the mind.

Consider that without the nest, we might not envision the black forms above to be birds at all, but merely indefinite marks executed for visual symmetry (block out the nest with your hand and see for yourself). And is the figure indoors or outdoors? She could be situated in front of some wainscoting or posed before a waist-high fence. Additionally, what about Morris' expressively painted gray background? Is it an interior wall or an imagined, monotone sky? Furthermore, the marks on the figure's abdomen are troublesome;
one can't help but see them as scratch or claw marks — or worse, self-inflicted wounds — laden with blood. But the most peculiar aspect of Morris' image is the twofold style of painting of the figure's face in juxtaposition with her body. Where the torso, shoulders and arms are painted in a dark color scheme and allude to volume, the woman's face is garishly amber in tone and flat in style and features dabs of paint and simple contour lines reminiscent of Matisse or Picasso.

Regarding the face in Gift, Morris said: "I was sick of looking at a beautiful face and slapped some paint over it, marked over it, and accidentally came upon a classical cartoon face." Either way, Picassoid in appearance or cartoonish, the figure in its entirety is effective.

Abstraction, representationalism, and open-ended narratives are the ingredients in Morris' work in her new exhibit Voyage, which opens Friday, May 15, at Box Gallery. According to gallery owner/director Michelle Ouellette, roughly a dozen pieces will be included in the exhibit. "I first met Kathleen almost 20 years ago, when she was still living and working in Truchas," said Ouellette. "I visited her studio there and I was enthralled by her work. ... I've watched her paint. She is a physical painter." The artist describes her method in three words: "Quick, slow, quick."

Originally from Stillwater, Oklahoma, Morris moved to New Mexico in 1977. She prefers rural, out-of-the-way places; so much so that she even seeks out the "outskirts of small villages. I like big sky," she said. Consequently, it's not difficult to see why she set up a studio in Truchas more than 20 years ago. The artist currently lives in Seattle, Washington. When asked about her background in art, that is, if she had had a formal art education, Morris' answer was a succinct "no." This may explain why some of her figures are disproportionate in their anatomy and a few facial expressions are less than true-to-life; then again, such artistic liberties may be deliberate. But that's immaterial to Morris' overall theme of female existence. Her expressive technique and symbolic imagery are well honed.

Life as a Snake (2009) offers many interpretations. The painting presents a woman's nude body outstretched in profile and floating in midair across the center of the canvas; the face is obliterated, voiding any eye contact and leaving us full reign to explore the context in which she exists. She may be levitating above a body of water or helplessly adrift in a state of suspended animation in another dimension. The serpentine white strip that runs the course of her body is obviously the snake; it accents the female form while at the same time it invades her very being. One can envision Morris creating the extended white mark with one gestural sweep of her brush, not to mention the myriad of other expressive marks that surround her woman's body in an environment of primordial soup. Is this a version of Eve before she took up residence in the Garden of Eden? Or is it a dream that only women can understand? Morris is coy about the meaning of Life as a Snake: "We are all captured to some degree. Like snakes, we can get in and out of situations in a snap," she said. Care to debate the issue?

Morris' paintings do have a tendency to prompt discussion. They solicit feelings ranging from the most peaceful to quite disturbing. "I often describe Kathleen's work as fearless," Ouellette said. "Her work is narrative but never reliant on facile symbolism. She invites the viewer to interpret. And her palette is not always dark, although it is usually deep and rich. [But] in recent years, Morris' palette may have darkened as the world darkened. She has mentioned before that the work is to some degree about the wars. I believe she has personally been greatly affected by the horror and tragedy of it all ... but I don't know if she would put it that way."

On the lighter side — at least in color scheme and title — is Bounce (2009). Based on body shape, the picture features a nude female figure curled in a ball wearing yellow shoes and, in full acrobatic fashion, rotating in midair. The atmosphere is filled both with
ominous clouds and breaks of blue skies. As in other paintings, Morris' figure may be interpreted in more than one way. Is this person, indeed, weightless and twirling through space in a moment of ecstasy or closed in the fetal position and falling into a pool of ... what? There is something curiously uplifting about this particular piece and yet unsettling at the same time. Depending upon your mood or disposition when you view the work — and most of Morris' paintings for that matter — you''ll either walk out of the gallery changed for the better or feeling as moody as when you entered. That's the beauty and power of Morris' work.

details
Kathleen Morris: Voyage
Opening reception 5-7 p.m. Friday, May 15; through June 21
Box Gallery, 1611-A Paseo de Peralta, 989-4897