The name of the retrospective is Memento Mori. I know, it sounds heavy as hell. I went there sighing that sort of big breath you take before watching a movie on WW2 - like you know it is going to hurt, but it is the crude truth of reality.
Well, I was very wrong, the way her works depicted death left me amazed.
Throughout art history, Death has mostly been depicted succumbing to its agony and torment in a Pietas by Michelangelo way or Saturn eating his son by Goya-like. And surely the American painter Jessie Homer French as well does depict Death, but the way she does it - through her bright, overly-plastic, almost childish colours and playful brushstrokes - gives death a completely different aura. All art is always and necessarily a form of knowledge, and Jessie Homer French’s art is a very peculiar form of knowledge of Death: my favorite canvases were indeed the ones with that surreal cut of the graveyard’s ground, letting the observer peek through the innocent coffins, which is the way in which a child would probably imagine a graveyard, and then, a generative act: flourishing, lush, thriving trees grow from death… visually incredibly cathartic.