CEPA Gallery is pleased to present Fresh Meat, an exhibition featuring 45 New York City based artists curated by Stephan Apicella-Hitchcock.
Artists were invited to participate in an exhibition with no overt theme or preset guidelines. As a result, each artist simultaneously constructed the exhibition context as well as contributed the content itself. Artists were selected for their ability to develop a solution to this Rorschach-like problem. Rather than compiling passive objects under a fixed curatorial vision, Fresh Meat emphasizes that artworks can actively imply their own context of display.

The exhibition highlights the fluid nature of the curatorial process in that the curator occupies the same position as the prospective audience. Neither are privileged with prior knowledge of the final form of the exhibition; both are asked to perform a function similar to a forensic pathologist, retroactively constructing a narrative cause (the exhibition’s parameters) from a set of given clues (the artwork).As the coupled words in the show title hint, the exhibition stands at the end of one arc—with a sense of finality–and at the beginning of a new one that remains open. By bringing together artists in an adaptable and investigational manner, Fresh Meat affirms CEPA’s long-standing commitment to the promise of the photographic arts.

Some samplers come with a sensible guide printed on the reverse of the closure, while other assortments incorporate an elaborate brochure into their informational scheme. Whether you are given one as a token of appreciation for your virtuous deeds, slipped one by a clandestine admirer or you formulate a bold resolution to procure one for yourself, boxes of chocolates, although enchanting, remain a mystery to the majority of people

Randomly choose a piece, or rely upon your memory of your last experience in guiding your decision (round or oblong shapes are soft-centered creams; square or rectilinear shapes are chewy–caramel or nougat; and bumps indicate nuts of some sort or perhaps even coconut). Sniff it first and then deftly nibble the bottom off to peek inside. Is it a butter crème, yellowish and milky, cloyingly sweet and stinging the teeth so that you can’t even swallow it? Take a handkerchief and wipe your tongue clean of the gummy sugariness. It might not be the one for you. It might leave a slick glaze that would continue to objectionably loiter in your mouth for the remainder of the day. Take the upper portion of the chocolate, the uneaten section, and drop it into its nest, eaten side down, back into the fancy box. Start again with another until you are satisfied.