On an uncharacteristically overcast afternoon in August, I meet Los Angeles-based painter Hilary Pecis at her Eastside studio. The largescale works for her new solo show, Warm Rhythm, line the oblong warehouse walls and are getting touched up in preparation to ship out, bound for a September opening at the David Kordansky Gallery in New York.
"Not my favorite", the 45-year-old California native says of the gloomy skies, where the steadfast midsummer sun has all but disappeared. I used to live in San Francisco, and I'm over that. Given the exuberance of Pecis's paintings, which bear the influence of Fauvism, the Pattern and Decoration movement, and the contradictory charms of the city she's called home for the last decade, Pecis's distaste for today's meteorological humdrum comes as no surprise.
Pecis (pronounced peh-chis) likens her studio, where I am greeted by two Chihuahua rescues, Tina and Mango, and where assistants also bring in their pets, to a doggy day care party. Today, her blond curls are blow-dried straight, and she's wearing a striped Celine button-down, which she keeps on a hanger in the studio for when she has official visitors. (Normally you'd find Pecis in her running clothes and Saucony trainers.) There is an appealing lack of pretense about the artist, both in her self-presentation and in her process. On a table in the center of the room, there are ball dahlias and tulips in mismatched vases, arranged in the manner of a quintessential Hilary Pecis still life. I love it when people send me arrangements, she says. But Trader Joe's flowers last just as long.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة October 2024 من Vogue US.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
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هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة October 2024 من Vogue US.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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