The Antenna Show drew me in with its odd title, satellite dish-covered flyer, and its promise of being about “frequencies, feelers, and feelings.” Perfectly strange and mystical, The Antenna Show explores the capacity of art objects to receive and transmit messages, emotions, and spiritual energy. The exhibition features a small selection of works by artists Emily Cheng, larí garcía, Iva Kinnaird, Umico Niwa, and Sarah Pettitt, and is curated by Laura Burton, founder of LAURA.

Iva Kinnaird, “Jumping Jack Cockroach,” 2021, acrylic, wood, feathers, string, metal hardware, 16 x 6 x 1/2 inches. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell

Iva Kinnaird, “TV Guy,” 2024, acrylic on cockroach, aluminum hardware. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell

Iva Kinnaird, “Tie-Dye Guy VI,” 2022, acrylic on cockroach, aluminum hardware. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell
Upon entering the gallery, I was greeted by a cockroach the size of my hand. This wooden creature is lovingly hand-carved and painted, with fabulous feather antennas. Iva Kinnaird’s Jumping Jack Cockroach even performs six-legged jumping jacks when a string is pulled. Two smaller roach friends occupy the gallery as well, although these are made from actual insect carcasses that Kinnaird collected, preserved, and transformed into jewel-like paintings with electric, psychedelic colors. Whimsical as they are, the three cockroaches seem rather helpless, hanging with their backs against the wall, bellies exposed, performing for the viewer. I empathize with their condition – vulnerable and out-of-place, yet defiant and joyful. The tender, human qualities Kinnaird instills within her critters dismantle any fear or repulsion I might otherwise associate with a cockroach. It’s a powerful message in our divided nation, where we are so quick to dismiss one other.

Sarah Pettitt, “Untitled,” 2024, pigment on canvas, metal thread and feather, 11 x 14 inches. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell

Sarah Pettitt, “Untitled” (detail), 2024, pigment on canvas, metal thread and feather, 11 x 14 inches. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell
Aside from insectoid antennas, there are other “feelers” in this exhibition too. Sarah Pettitt’s Untitled contains a feather, wrapped in wire, that juts out from an Yves Klein blue pigmented canvas. In contrast to the lightness and beauty of the feather, the connecting wire painfully stabs through the canvas, running under the surface like a dried-up river bed, scabbed, scarred, brutal, buried. This painful moment reminds me of the U2 song Heartland, and the lines “Freeway like a river cuts through this land / Into the side of love.” Mirrored in Pettitt’s work is the idea that love, pain, and beauty are intrinsically connected.

larí garcía, “untitled periphery,” 2024, goat’s horn, rod chair, metal rim, lightning track, steel coil, bracket, drywall screw, plastic, stainless steel, handmade rope, blue ink, black shingle with rub cut, white paper tape, cotton rope, 78 x 26 x 23 inches. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell
larí garcía’s untitled periphery functions as a mystical web or a net used to trap ghosts and other unseen spirits. There is a meaningful precariousness and impermanence with aspects of its fragmented construction and installation, where various materials, including a goat’s horn, are resting or leaning on each other. The work feels deliberately unstable and temporary, metaphorical of grief and loss. It’s as if the work could be folded up and stored away for future use.
Emily Cheng’s small painting, Maine, evokes the sacred geometry of Hilma af Klint and the intimate scale and psychic symbolism of Forrest Bess. The painting has a landscape quality that looks out, but I also feel like I am looking down at a boat, or into the refracted light of a divine spirit. There is a flatness and a depth that is startling and pleasantly disorienting. The work is elegant, with sacred designs and primary colors resembling a mandala. The painting isn’t exactly musical or lyrical as much as it hums like a singing bowl, meditative, constantly searching, and ever-present. Infused with mystical qualities through line, shape, and color, the painting becomes a conduit of spiritual energy. I feel elated by the formal qualities of Cheng’s painting as much as I feel grounded by its psychic frequencies.

Umico Niwa, “Eulogy Series,” 2024, carbonized organic matter, dimensions variable. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell

Umico Niwa, “Eulogy Series,” 2024, carbonized organic matter, dimensions variable. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell

Umico Niwa, “Daphne Adorned Series: Sun Seeker,” 2024, pewter and foraged organic matter, 10 x 6 x 5 inches. Image courtesy LAURA © Graham W. Bell
There is a place in my heart for art objects I almost miss seeing. Where so often artists produce works that demand attention, there is something magical about elusive works that hide in plain sight. In The Antenna Show, Umico Niwa presents the Eulogy Series, a collection of carbonized organic materials that dwell quietly throughout the gallery, as if blown in by the wind. Their tiny, charred remains are almost imperceptible at first. Once detected, they are vital in transforming the space, drawing attention to their peculiar transformation and beauty, as well as the often overlooked areas of the gallery they inhabit. In this way, Niwa turns the viewer into a kind of antenna, searching for other surprises within the space, including another work, Sun Seeker, from the artist’s Daphne Adorned Series. This nymph-like creature, part pewter and part plant or flower, defies categorization and graces a small window, well above eye level.
The Antenna Show is intimate and restrained, featuring only a handful of small objects with plenty of space for each to breathe. The works by Emily Cheng, larí garcía, Iva Kinnaird, Umico Niwa, and Sarah Pettitt are modest and potent, accessible yet highly conceptual. The Antenna Show combines material specificity, emotional acuity, and curatorial precision with a refreshing glimmer of strangeness.
The Antenna Show is on view at LAURA through November 9.