Play Too Much
Devin N. Morris
Apr23Jun82019

What camera function does a living room perform? Lens, keeper, flash? The events that occur within this seemingly private space position the subjective body to be confronted, welcomed and familiarized over time. Framing borderless spaces, Play Too Much considers standing furniture and domestic environments in relationship to transcendence, performance, ownership, innocence and desire. Morris builds environments in ways similar to a contractor each surface considered for its purpose and engineered to withstand use. However, unlike a contractor, Morris reimagines the operative properties of domestic objects as narrative surfaces and honors past experiences, deceased elders, disease and familial relations. Constructing tender exchanges, emotionally rendered figures daydream domestic mobility, fraternal and otherwise. Queer environments, rarely found, are more insistently exposed.

Having moved often in his childhood, Morris posits familiar but distant narratives that exist beyond the frame as forever spaces. Figures are laid bare — revealed to the histories that structure their environments. In sacred, private settings, they explore and reckon with partnership through innocent exchanges. Seeking innocence, a quality of perspective Morris felt denied to him after the murder of a close family member, is an act of reclamation for the artist. Play Too Much is an alarm, like a rooster’s crow come morning; you remember its reverberation but not always what day or event the sound announces. Nonetheless the call is dangerously present and effortlessly familiar each time you hear and at that moment, you know something must occur.

Press Release (PDF)

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Selected Works

Devin N. Morris

Playing Roles on TV: Wife, Mother, Grandmother Diptych,

2018

Devin N. Morris

11:27 pm Sit Down and Rest My Nerves,

2019

Devin N. Morris

My Day One, Bending Knee (Chair 1),

2018

Devin N. Morris

9:38 pm "Black and Red and Sometimes Blue",

2019

Devin N. Morris

3:33 pm "This Might Be A Light Worker You Know",

2019

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145 Elizabeth Street
New York, New York 10012

Hours: Tue–Sat, 12–6pm
Company is wheelchair accessible.

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Mailing Address:
356 Broome Street
New York, New York 10013

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+1 646 756 4547
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