Pieces shows work of Susan Alta Martin

Aptly titled Pieces: Recent Work, Susan Alta Martin’s new photography and sculpture exhibit at Golden Belt demonstrates the artistic coherence of piecing together different mediums.

The one-room exhibit features a handful of works that range from mixed-media constructions to traditional framed photography. Although diverse, the quality and content of the pieces emphasize themes of displacement and isolation in the face of typical sociality. Martin’s focus on western North Carolina comes through most expressively in her representations of small towns and the effects of surface mining on the mountain landscape.

In a brief series titled “Main Streets,” Martin attached vibrant, true-to-life photographs of seemingly abandoned storefronts to flat surfaces—most likely cardboard boxes. The result is eerie: At first, the photographs seem a typical documentation of small-town U.S.A. But, upon closer inspection, one can notice that the edges of the photographs curl up along the cardboard “buildings,” and the works move farther from reality.

Martin’s other photographic works maintain the same unsettling vibe. In a collection called “2nd Floor Main Street,” Martin photographed regal chairs of years past in an abandoned hotel. The chairs sit strategically in opposition to a broken window or an open doorframe. They belong neither in the context of their photographs nor, it seems, in their original habitats—a hotel ballroom, the side of a bedroom table, a formal sitting room.

The exhibit’s most noticeable pieces, however, are Martin’s constructions, which combine digital photography, found objects and natural elements. The work in the center of the room, “Undone,” seemed too literal a depiction of mountaintop mining, and its obvious placement signaled the misguided intention to showcase this work as the exhibit’s culminating piece.

“Meth Lab,” a sculpture featured at the side of the room, is more nuanced and arguably a better embodiment of the exhibit’s title. “Meth Lab” features a three-dimensional photographic construction of a trailer amid the contents of a typical junkyard—bottles (a few Erlenmeyer flasks), cans and dirt. Trees made from chicken wire rise from the dirty ground. Some are wrapped with colored tape to signify their impending destruction, but in this context, the color of the tape reads as a more conscious artistic choice rather than a reflection of realistic tree-cutting practices. The entire diorama-esque scene lies stilt-like atop an old-fashioned sidetable attached to the legs of another table. A curving root extends downward directly beneath the scene to reach a pile of dirt arranged on the floor.

Each component of the work fits with another despite the overall variety of artistic mediums. The scene seems familiar—and almost cliche—but it balances natural and industrial elements to render an overall environment that precludes superficial classification. The very piece-like nature of this exhibit makes us question the way we classify artwork in general.

With Pieces, Martin makes the point that even a singular work of art can be composed of many different pieces—each carrying meaning in different ways that ultimately reflect the essence of artistic synthesis and collaboration.