“As women, we’re told how to grieve,” says Stolar. “We’re told to grieve quietly. But humans fall into debauchery, sexual deviance, addiction. We present somber when really we’re screaming.”
This May, interdisciplinary artist Sarah Stolar exhibited a selection of works from her collection The Grief Club. Shown at Revolt Gallery in Taos, New Mexico were 25 pieces spanning several mediums, but all depicting a new and personal approach to grief.
The Grief Club is an interdisciplinary body of artwork that weaves dark humor into the way we process loss. Stolar personifies grief as characters who inhabit a gritty nightclub, using the location as an allegory for the desire to escape into the dark. However, this escape is riddled with taboo and irony.
Comprised of large-scale paintings, drawings, block prints, mixed-media neon sculptures, performance, and manufactured products, this body of work brings us into a world where grief can be lived in and with.
Sarah’s exploration of grief began in a brand new studio she built for her and her mother, Merlene Schain, to share. At the time, her mom had been living with her so Sarah could be her caretaker. Sarah is the mirror image of her mom she wears her clothing and followed in her footsteps as an artist. The two were inseparable, except when it came to their studio practices. They are so alike in their prolific and constant creation that Sarah had no choice but to build a bigger studio to hold both of their artistic practices.
In retreating to their studio, Stolar found that the space served as a secret hideaway where she could process the day’s feelings alongside her mother. There the Grief Club was born.
Through a year of research, she began connecting cultural traditions of grieving. The idea of the nightclub came both from her own studio “clubhouse” and from the Celtic tradition of Keening Women, paid mourners who publicly grieve by feasting, dancing, and performing provocative acts at funerals. Characters began to inhabit the club, such as Denial, Bargaining, and Acceptance, all based on the Kubler Ross Five Stages of Grief.
Stolar cleverly personified the stages of grief as nightclub acts that embodied their traits. Bargaining became the gambler, Denial was the DJ playing whatever you asked, and Depression was the bartender serving wine to cry in.
Each of these early ideas manifested as provocative women of the night, illustrating the dirty and powerful underbelly of grieving. Each can be seen in beautifully rendered drawings and paintings, some designed to look like club promotions and others painted as though they’re Renaissance portraits.
In a 6ft self-portrait titled Vanitas, Stolar paints herself as she cries in the midst of a Dutch-inspired still life. Strewn around her are skulls, apples, and disco balls, staying true to and contemporizing traditional still lives. The historical nod highlights the excesses of life by calling on a tradition of painting that surrounds its subject with all of their riches. Stolar deftly contrasts excess with inevitable mortality.
Vanitas was completed over 2 years, where she would “paint one apple then go back to the couch and watch Survivor.” During this time, she moved through each stage of grief, bargaining with herself along the way in order to complete the work.
As the body of work progressed, Stolar remembered an alter-ego she had as a child. Sabrina Flower opened up a new branch of thought, exploring ideas of innocence and fantasy within the Grief Club. How do we regress to our childhood ways of coping, in the face of tragedy?
The work overall asks us to confront our acceptance of coping. What does it mean to “cope well”? Are we wasting our time putting on a brave face?
Stolar’s exhibition was kicked off by an event that invited viewers to join The Grief Club. “I don’t want people to show up somber,” remarks Stolar, whose only requirement for visitors is that they must be grieving. “Grief is a haystack, whatever is down lower on the ladder can compound the grief of smaller incidents.” She cited the tornado of disappointment we’ve been living in and how we’re all grieving at least one thing.
Within the event were lollipops, block prints, and hand stamps for patrons to take with them. The main event, if you will, was a trapeze artist named Cressie Mae who performed a choreographed contemporary dance mid-air.
Afterward, guests were invited to Revolt Gallery’s annex for the after-party. The show delivered a full experience of The Grief Club, with dancing, crying, and theatrics included.
The exhibition holds nothing back. She shows images of debauchery alongside little girls clutching their teddy bears, illustrating the spectrum of coping, and ultimately the spectrum of femininity. “The work makes some women uncomfortable because it’s all out there.” And it is all out there.
The fury of Stolar’s grief can best be felt in the Feelings scroll, 60 yards of Kozo paper where she block-printed the word “feelings” over and over. Stolar had been told she had “too many feelings.” Her response? To stamp out all of her feelings and show them exactly how many she had.
Quantifiable manifestations of grief contrast with historical references, romanticizing big feelings.
“Marking art is the only way I know how to deal with hard stuff, but I don’t like to subscribe to the idea of art therapy,” she says. Instead, her practice is personal before it’s universal. Luckily, we now get to be a part of her universe, a space created to hold us while we grieve.
Essie Somma is an artist and freelance writer exploring beauty and difficulty within the human experience. She has been traveling full-time for two years, learning about new places and cultures, and bringing all of her experiences to her work. She feels endlessly grateful for getting to share her work with others.
