Embedded with rich narratives culled from the artist’s personal journey, Lasch’s beautiful work is intensely biographical. Her art is rooted in spirituality, repetition, and the decorative—and always weighted with the pains and joys of heartbreak, age, and adventure.
Pat Lasch (born New York, 1944) emerged in the 1970s as a pioneering artist who was one of the first members of A.I.R., an important women’s gallery collective in New York City. Lasch thrived in New York’s burgeoning art scene, and was immersed in second-wave feminism amidst currents in pop art and minimalism. Since then, Lasch has maintained a distinct vision closely tied to her heart and her experiences, whether as the daughter of a baker, or as a lover, mother, and wife. Inspired by true events, her ambrosial artworks appear as though they’ve been pulled out of dreams. However, Lasch’s art is anchored in sturdy materials and masterful hand-worked processes. From immaculate cakes studded with pins or coated in black icing, to figurative bronzes and lavish dresses, Lasch’s sculptures compose a wondrous world filled with beauty, light, and darkness. These objects reference universal phenomena: body, love, sex, birth, and death. Lasch distinctively captures the experiential and resonant magic of these phenomena and transforms them into permanent, sculptural icons.
A part-time resident of the Coachella Valley for almost 15 years, the artist’s spiritual and reverential perspective on everyday life continues a line of inquiry that desert denizens have long understood. Her ongoing creative engagement with decorative practices is prescient, as seen in renewed interest by a younger generation of artists working today. Lasch has always recognized that beautiful art which evokes emotion, or speaks to specters of past and present, is also a site of empowerment. To all those who have experienced life’s heartbreaks, Lasch’s work offers hopeful tribute for our collective memory.
This exhibition was held at Palm Springs Art Museum, Palm Springs, California in 2017.
