Interspace is a place between a vertical argyle dance floor and a billboard dissolved into optic fantasy. It’s a spatial image that joyously vibrates somewhere between party and pattern. We move through hotels suspended between rest and recovery, dis-location and destination, hyper-awareness and sublimation. Emily Sall’s work gets us right in there — a trans-local space of being both here and there, in our bodies and out of our heads. 

There’s a strangeness here — it’s both an image we can recognize, and a space of antic anticipation — is the painting done? Or undone? How one knows the answers to questions of composition might depend on what era you grew up in, the music you listened to on the way here, or how you see sound. It’s a heightened place of knowing what you know, and escalating curiosity for what feels out of reach, just beyond the familiar. Interspace coolly hypes the pleasure of being in this place, at this time — a moment where we’re all feeling the anxiety of becoming ourselves again, and knowing we belong here, with each other.