A prolific encounter with our own nature. 

 

Drugs, guns and tits. Erin Riley's unabashed and provocative show-and-tell emerges from the quiet comforts of her Philadelphia studio. Her walls are lined with a muted palette of heavy gauged wool some of which has been left behind in the exit of the cities textile factories. Now, these strands are meticulously woven into intimate snapshots of keen self awareness and the ridiculous. In Erin's hands the images and scenes are quite literally, softened. The scrap of metal that used to be a car, the used condom, the contents of a girls drawer complete with Chanel perfume, leopard sunglasses and a well endowed vibrator all insights and hidden truths, present and real.  The tits, well they may or may not have been real to being with but all originate from a place of personal growth and discovery. 

 

I met Riley in Allston, MA at her recent show Crush displayed in the Orchard Skateshop gallery. A Meatland alum, a haunt in Jamaica Plain frequented by many Boston skaters, Erin has since made her home in Philadelphia after receiving her MFA from the Tyler School of Art. The studio where she now works is a converted factory north of downtown. Other than the occasional George Michael marathon the space is quiet, bright and buzzing with much of the cities art crowd. 

 

As we toured the studio and she showed off her latest work, I couldn't help but see the genuine love and affection that she has for each piece she creates. She is quiet, witty and it is inspiring to see such passion and dedication for ones craft and art. 

 

I hung around for a bit while she worked, a meditative rhythm and a palpable anticipation for the next piece, to always be working. Finding that one relevant snapshot and weaving a world around it.