Linda Zacks’ Solo Exhibition is a collision at the intersection of daydream and experience revealed in her figurative and abstract mixed media works.
Zacks' work percolates from the tangible grime that is the oozy texture of New York City. It is about the cacophony of whooping sirens and grinding metal. Her words form a rhythmic latin hustle, pimp strutting with meaning and experiences, setting one up for that same sort of woozy swoon one feels when roaming the streets around Times Square. Tension. Calamity. The urban obstinance that turns a jackhammer into a musical instrument. If it’s not cathartic, it’s not in her artistic vocabulary.
But even within the pissy, greasy pavement in the alley behind a Chinese takeout joint, Zacks' work reminds us that these textures are about the lived urban experience through which many of us find a particular sort of pleasure. It is a giddiness that is the liquor store hold-up approach to making meaning, from the hip and with zesty passion. It’s got mood swings, attitude problems, and intensity.
Nothing is out of the question: old wood, torn paper, rusty metal, ink, duct tape or a scribbled-over Polaroid. Zacks is all about the anxiety, adoration, filth, fear, and visceral energy of just being alive and aware, and that makes its way into each picture. The world is a treasure hunt and a box of 64 crayons is like a 24-carat diamond.