Dear friends,

It’s been about two months since the news of Godine Vintage Furniture broke to us and our community. Though this news has been difficult for many reasons, we decided to take the change as an opportunity to begin digging deeply into the roots of the gallery space, and the history of those who have lead Godine Family Gallery for the last thirteen years. What we found is a community steeped in compassion and generosity, one that was swift in support and full of kindness. Throughout our time as curators of Godine Gallery, we found inspiration in the work of Sam Toabe, and Matthew Serpico, who worked on exhibitions such as H.E.A.P. HQ and Ephemera. We often referred back to Emma Lanctot and Renee Silva’s exhibitions, including An Introduction, Choneto, Folds,and so many more. The works of those who have shown in the space continue to influence the MassArt community, from artists such as Ros Barron, Kevin Clancy, Jenna Mack, Michelle Batho, Clint Baclawski, Noel Puello, Future Farmers, and so many more. We are endlessly being impacted by the practices shaped and shown in the Godine Gallery space.

For our final show as a collective of artists and curators in the space, the prospect of a retrospective was exciting. For the Godine Family Gallery’s final show, a retrospective commemorating this incredible community and space was imperative. We are proud and humbled to be included in the lineage of curators and artists who have cared for and lead this gallery, and we are honored to feature this history in our space.

Please JOIN US for the closing reception of Godine Family Gallery: A Retrospective on May 3 from 7-9PM, where we will celebrate and remember together the beautiful work this space has created over thirteen years. 

Godine Family Gallery: A Retrospective will feature works from: 

Ros Barron

Harris Barron

Jenny Proscia

Katrine Burkitt

Clint Baclawski

Godine Family Gallery: A Retrospective will feature new iterations from:

The Derby Show, Ian Gage, 2016

H.E.A.P. H.Q., Kevin Clancy, Nicholas Leonard, Daniel Mooradian, and Derek Thomas, 2009

Refract, Stephanie Devrackas and Dyllan Nguyen, 2011

Choneto, Juan Obando, Emma Lanctot, and Renee Silva, 2016


We look forward to seeing you there.


Marissa, Felix, and Andrew

Godine Family Gallery 2017-2018


Perpetual Collapse - Review by Gabe Gill, Big Red and Shiny

Perpetual Collapse - Review

Ryann Feldman, 02/12/2018

As I sat in the midst of “Perpetual Collapse”, I felt the art in the space flourish and deteriorate around me. The works are actively escaping themselves, moving in deliberately opposite directions,  devolving. As one sits in the bones of the deconstructed, the fallacy of a proper, formal, gallery eerily dissolves with each work’s slight dissociation from reality. Like trains passing in opposite directions, the pieces do not collide with one another. They graze against each other creating a deeper friction. As the space collapses inward, associations to reality and reason are abandoned. All we have are fragmented realities; all we have are pieces of the structure.

“Don’t poke the ego or risk the wrath of perpetual collapse”, a sticky note on the Macbook desktop suggests to whoever decides to sit as an impermanent attendant of the space. Like a doctor’s appointment reminder, or a random cell phone number, the note is subtle yet symptomatic of the gallery’s conscious attachment and neglect to our perceived notion of contemporary exhibitions. There is something unyielding about the purity of a gallery, the work attempts to present itself while not truly transforming the space. This sterile preservation coldly references the dismal reality of curatorship within the capitalistic society that consumes and excretes art. The off-center nature of every single work is what compels us to interpret them as self-aware. Each piece notably contains both closeness and dissonance, with the mode of collapse itself being what strings each work together. The gallery feels like a framework to emphasize the ephemerality of presence itself, containing works referencing abstract memories and emotions physicalized in the space. There is a consistent and ghostly humming coming from the crooked analog tv invoking particular domestic memories that reverberate within the space. The television is the focal point, emitting and transmitting an endless emptiness. There is something incredibly lonesome about the space, similar to dreams where time is stagnant and all things echo back to themselves (note the clock on the wall eerily snapping in place, not progressing or regressing). The works are rotting, as is the notion of a precious sacred art space. On the desk there is a white crisp piece of paper with the sentence, “EVERYTHING MUST GO.”



Overall, the curatorship of the gallery itself speaks in tune to the core decaying notion of a “preserved” art space. It speaks on vulnerability both as a space and as a functioning artwork itself. The gallery is equally successful as a showcase of current contemporary work that is “collapsing” as it is a performative space that fluctuates in tandem with the physical objects themselves.


Gabe Gill, 02/08/2018

In the Godine Family Gallery, the small, square space that houses Perpetual Collapse, work from a selection of seven artists is arranged like furniture in a casual room, where themes, colors, and shapes echo around the room. Sopheak Sam’s soft/core series of cartoonishly sexual and emotive crayon and pastel drawings bear the same exuberant colors as Felix Kauffman’s Sunflowers, which is in turn echoed in Sam Bodian’s X S T  H P L, a wall-hung piece evoking chains piercing flesh and incorporating everything from pleather to fingernail clippings. Similarly eclectic in media choices is Austen Shumway’s November 28, 1994, an armchair seating 3 dangerous-looking wooden spikes as well as fabric, fox pelts, and foxgloves (poisonous.) Andrew Grimanis’ three form-focused 10 Juliette St pieces as well as their ‘mother mold’ are more industrial in material, and more muted in color scale, but reflect an openminded media practice shared by other offerings of the show. Especially cohesive is 10 Juliette St (no. 4), a rubber figure bound at all limbs and seemingly stretched between wall, ceiling, and floor with blue string. Dylan Soulard’s Was sound piece, presented through headphones on a pedestal, stands on the outskirts of the bold visual play present in much of Perpetual Collapse, though the cover art printed in the price book shows a crystalline, undulating pink image that matches the constantly changing nature of the sonics. The sounds run only just over two minutes, but in that time incorporate brittle percussive drops, a few guttural bars and ethereal synths, disorienting the listener in what feels like a tour of an unfocused and distressed psyche. Near in proximity and theme to his piece is Liam Mahoney’s Bridges, billed as “A Theoretical Essay.” On a tilted, heavy-headed television, the viewer sees fragmented rectangles showing cars crashing, billows of gas, and tranquil images of telephone poles and clear skies. Mahoney’s piece computer break, a Mac desktop on a worn desk, shows a fluttering mouse queuing images of blurred lights and neon, static images and looping video. Was, Bridges, and computer break add a frantic digital element to Perpetual Collapse that contextualizes some of the less immediate physical work in a wide-spanning landscape of purposeful disarray, including works that at times seem to be at various stages of completion.     


I found the digital work most effective for this reason. The chaos present in Bridges and computer break felt more resonant and affecting than sculptural works 10 Juliette St and X S T  H P L, and felt more open to repeated or lengthened viewings. Ultimately I wish these digital spots were more evenly distributed around the space instead of being centered in the corner near where an audience might enter. The gallery space seemed to contextualize every piece present but overall did less for the sculptural and static 2D pieces by putting most of that work towards the back of the space and most of the digital work towards the front. This creates an effect of the work becoming less urgent as the viewer progresses through the space. Some of these pieces would be markedly less effective in a solo context or a more formal arrangement, but presented facing each other and requiring a circuitous path through the gallery, the dissonance becomes a harmony in articulating an open studio of color, splayed material, and action.

Gabe Gill (b. 1997) is a musician and writer from Western Massachusetts. Gill is a member if the International Association of Professional Writers and Editors, and has written for publications such as Take Magazine. Gill is currently studying in the Studio for Interrelated Media at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design.