bent sun . Talya Petrillo, Frantz Jean-Baptiste, Trey Ross. April 11 - May 16, 2026. Spring. Group Exhibition.
CURRENT
bent sun
Talya Petrillo, Frantz Jean-Baptiste, Trey Ross
Duration: April 11 - May 16, 2026.
Location: Reisig and Taylor Contemporary (603 N Western Ave, Los Angeles 90004).
Type: Group Exhibition.
Thermostat: 72 degrees Fahrenheit.
Announcement: Flyer.
Release: File.
Reference: Checklist.
Population: Bios.
Publicity: Curate LA; artguide; see/saw
Press: This Week’s Must-See Art (Curate LA: April 9-15, 2026); Something Is Happening in Melrose Hill by Katherine Kesey (Art and Cake: April 17, 2026).
*Exhibition Documentation: Request Images here.
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Please contact Emily Reisig with any questions or to request a catalogue of works:
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bent sun . Talya Petrillo, Frantz Jean-Baptiste, Trey Ross. April 11 - May 16, 2026. Spring. Group Exhibition.
*Gallery Hours: Wednesday - Saturday, Noon - 6pm. (All other times by Appointment. Contact: gallery@reisigandtaylorcontemporary.com)
603 N Western Ave, Los Angeles, CA 90004. (34.08184747711551, -118.30927467084113)
Cardboard, foam, paper, paper pulp, copper, confetti, concrete, breath, 2 rocks, paper, poems, oil, acrylic, automotive paint, porcelain, stoneware, lab diamonds + gems, glaze, metal oxides, lustres, stains, frit.
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Observe what happens when sunbeams are admitted into a building and shed light on its shadowy places. You will see a multitude of tiny particles mingling in a multitude of ways... their dancing is an actual indication of underlying movements of matter that are hidden from our sight... It originates with the atoms which move of themselves spontaneously. Then those small compound bodies that are least removed from the impetus of the atoms are set in motion by the impact of their invisible blows and in turn cannon against slightly larger bodies. So the movement mounts up from the atoms and gradually emerges to the level of our senses so that those bodies are in motion that we see in sunbeams, moved by blows that remain invisible.
—Lucretius, De Rerum Natura [On the Nature of Things], c. 60 BC.
,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’,’
sunbeams are never bent like me
I was always told that money doesn’t have a smell, but if you sniff a single coin you’ll find a burn bent-over the parallels of both sides since the sun doesn’t know the difference between the stars and the stares. Hold it up to sky on the ground and you’ll see a flat earth rounded to the nearest common denominator, something worth something like a swerve (that’s not saying much besides me bending the value of myself against the currency up-on the Sun). I’m inclined to say that’s why I “Never think it, but always say it,” so I’m split into curves like I’m looking at a constellation. Steeped in loops. But horizontal enough to stop the rain from falling up there. All the albedo of the whitest world couldn’t save them from this saturnation, ringed by these side ways internally ousted. Externally interred. That’s the only reason why it would be possible to take the longest rest without stopping. I only needed to bury something where it doesn’t belong. (With a lot of digging.) That’s why I divided myself between the fiction and the friction of my occupation: arms, or else I’ll never get dug-up. Or else the last cut on my first arm betrays its inlay along a new surface otherwise than this one writing. Then the last surface where this cut first appears is bent by a burn, radiated. So this last cut is first written over and under the burning plain so we hear them say “the plain’s in flames.” Which in all uncertainty becomes a bog warping its woof with its baroque barbaric weave. The last cut thinks savagely as soon as it enters in relation with another form of attack, establishes the duality of the fall earlier prevented with a cut that laterally fragments the vertical rain of the arm’s vertigo. Chance like dice, determined by a throw. What’s the number on the top? I can’t count with the curvature acting as a cover for the surface doubled by the photograph that you’re looking at while you haul its haunches into view. Or, the last cut plus the first burn is still reminding me that I’m rehearsing a body like a wandering star like a shore without a beach: bent but not out of line. At this point, line and light look the same so that’s why I say that the way I did. (Because I couldn’t possibly think it.) Because by now I’m closer to the sun, farther from the light. Or maybe that’s just the eclipse on this side of the pleasure principle: where I was, I won’t be. No, sunbeams are never bent like me.
At the two opposite outlines of the image an opposite appearance presents itself, beginning from an acute angle; the appearance spreads as it proceeds further in space, according to this angle. On one side, in the direction in which the luminous image is moved, a violet border advances on the dark, a narrower blue edge remains next the outline of the image. On the opposite side a yellow border advances into the light of the image itself, and a yellow-red edge remains at the outline. Here, therefore, the movement of the dark against the light, of the light against the dark, may be clearly observed.
(From: Theory of Colours, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (c. 1810).)
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Talya Petrillo grew up outside of Detroit, in a multilingual household embroidered with combined practices of Islamic spiritualism and Catholic traditionalism. Her early navigation of a confluence of superstitions and storylines has deeply informed her foundational interests in the way archetypal signals and emotional narratives can be implicated in material, form and process. With frequent evocation of the body through scale, tactile material residues and organic structural nuance, her work unsettles the deeply personal with the surreal.
Working experimentally across disciplines, Petrillo received her MFA from Carnegie Mellon University in 2020, and is a recipient of the Lea Simonds Fellowship, the William S. Dietrich II Presidential Fellowship, and the Frank-Ratchye Fund for Art at the frontier. She is currently based in Los Angeles, California.
In Los Angeles, she has participated in recent group exhibitions at Luciano’s Garden, Cevera Yoon Gallery, and Reisig and Taylor Contemporary.
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Frantz Jean-Baptiste (0423, B 1991, Miami) is a multidisciplinary artist currently based in Los Angeles. He is a first generation American of Haitian descent. He graduated from Art Center in Pasadena and The California College of Arts in San Francisco. His works have been featured in exhibitions at galleries in Los Angeles and the Bay Area: Reisig and Taylor Contemporary (Los Angeles), Gallery Sade (Los Angeles), Band of Vices (Los Angeles); Friend Indeed (Micki Meng) Gallery (San Francisco); Naming Gallery (Oakland); Zoolab (Oakland); ZK Gallery (San Francisco); Merchants of Reality (San Francisco), Mirai Collective (Berkeley); and, Mothership Gallery (Oakland). He recently participated in a residency at “CeRCCa :Center for Research and Creativity Casamarles, Llorenç del Pendès, Spain.
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trey ross (b. 1999) grew up in the Silicon Valley. He currently lives and works in Los Angeles.
His work engages ceramic and lithographic processes in an experimental practice that explores the natural, technological, and magical.
His solo exhibition Future Fossils was presented at Long Play Contemporary (Santa Monica), and his work was recently included in the group exhibition ratio at Reisig and Taylor Contemporary (Los Angeles).
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