Mana Contemporary Open Studios

Nicholas D'Ornellas’ studio. Swimming Pool—for Mr. Cozetta, 2022, Handwoven & quilted screenprint on poly-cotton fabric, wooden frame, 12" (h) × 51" (l) × 40" (w)

By OCEANA ANDRIES May 28, 2024

Twice a year, Mana Contemporary opens its doors to welcome the public into its expansive labyrinth-esque space. Last week, over 100 artists opened their studios, combined with live performances, a fashion event, and a book panel. The building was as large as the event, and it was overwhelming. It would be impossible to comment on every studio and activity that took place, so I've selected a handful of artists to highlight. Below are just four artists who stood out to me throughout the day.

Nicholas D'Ornellas (b. 1997), Georgetown, Guyana, is an artist who primarily focuses on large-scale textiles and screenprinting. His work communicates family, memory, and space; the art is a colorful, woven rhythmic repetition pattern. He transforms memories into landscapes that are altered by his experiences; through a laborious and tactile process, he brings the viewers into his memories, and we can understand the sensations through his use of materials. Through the handwoven elements, D'Ornellas creates ripples similar to a whirlpool in his work, "Swimming Pool—for Mr. Cozetta, 2022", pictured below, where the viewer gazes down on an idyllic memory of his family enjoying an inflatable pool on a hot day. The woven techniques also create a haze, reminiscent of trying to capture a memory but not entirely gathering the details as they start to melt together. His scenes create moments of recall where he invites the viewers to reminisce with him in a space that suspends time to hold onto a sacred moment of people and memories. 

Li Wang’s studio. 

Li Wang (b. 1995) is an artist that works with oil paint and has a palette of strong saturated colors. His work is highly personal, and the viewer feels as though they are either interrupting an intimate scene between lovers or becoming a fly on the wall that inspects the subjects' quieter moments. His work is rendered with an overarching color, and various elements are rendered in its complementary color. Small personal objects are scattered throughout a canvas that gives us entry into the space and a connection to its subjects. From Lego flowers to astronaut figures and a Bacardi bottle, viewers connect with characters who are not too far from their interests. With a connection to childlike objects and young adult vulnerability, the work feels like a bridge where Wang explores the interpersonal relationships of early adulthood while retaining a childlike identity. 

Sandra Stephens creates videos, large-scale photographs, and installations; she explores questions surrounding race and identity. Through the use of projectors, she imposes an image onto the surface of a wall and frames it as our focus. Upon entering her dimly lit studio, the audience quickly focuses on the light that is emitting from her work. Black figures are the central subjects, and through religious iconography and well-known stories, such as Snow White, Stephens rewrites age-old narratives. In a particular work, a young girl dressed as Snow White is seated doing her nails. Behind her are minstrel silhouettes reminiscent of Kara White's cut-outs; they passed by every so often. Stephens explained this was to co-op the imagery and repurpose it to change its original racist connotations. The viewer is intended to be seated in front of the piece; this echoes the iconic, "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?" as we see ourselves reflected in her. Her work is a layered insertion into archaic dialogs that disrupt racist caricatures. 

Sandra Stephen in her studio.  

Rashad Wright is a performance artist; throughout the day, he had three performances dealing with war, family, and loss. In the morning, he was set to running in a manner similar to the pacer test; beside him, stapled on the wall were flyers, pictured below, and on the ground laid neatly spaced flowers, akin to a hurdle. In the afternoon, participants were led to a separate building. We were placed in rows of five, arm-width apart. Wright emerged in the distance; he scaled and descended a spiral staircase. He became our drill sergeant, and when his right arm was raised, we were prompted to repeat after him. Where I stood, unwittingly listed from a waiver agreement, my individuality was stripped, and I was a character in this drill regime. "It's alright, it's alright, it's okay, seen better days," echoed throughout the empty building as all the participants joined. In the evening, near the entrance, Wright offered his final commentary on war and loss and thanked the audience.   

Right Photo Cred: ROQ Initiative 

Though I was there for the whole event, I still managed to miss two floors. The performances and sheer number of studios were overwhelming, but the work produced by the talented artists at Mana Contemporary was well worth the trek to Jersey City. WM