A master of her mediums, small gauge film and video, and a novice at her subject matter—primarily herself—Deirdre Logue will show work at A Space Gallery beginning with the era in which she was on the organization’s board of directors. Spanning nearly 20 years, the exhibition chronicles Logue’s compelling self-portraits as well as her handling of all aspects of the production and post-production process.
Logue performs silent and spoken breaths; she climbs, crawls, licks, suckles, eats, drinks, suffocates, gets hit on the head, and falls. She records her infectious, beautiful dancing and explains that she worries so much it might be the end of her. Then she worries herself in-between the mattress and box spring of a made bed. She does not tell us what is wrong, per se; what she does suggest are inevitable and repetitious disasters. Logue’s utterly symmetrical features glare at us while she confidently inhabits gender categories that had not yet unravelled. She utters discomforting phrases and wraps them in the warmth and beauty of hand-processed celluloid.