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I've heard my father tell the same jokes for decades, which leaves me to wonder: if there ever was a time they were actually funny. Has the subsequent retelling of this dad-joke material shed any new light on meaning? Are the jokes excusable because they are so firmly embedded in a cultural past? Is the fact that he tells the jokes over and over actually the punchline? This exhibition SLO POKE is about a situation like I've just described. Do the motifs that interest me in the past, that I employ to slow down my present, carry any weight? The eye moves over them in a familiar way - sometimes with a smile, sometimes with a labored chuckle.
The past has a golden patina. Something about it is a little slower, and perhaps more significant.