Ex Nihilo

Ex nihilo – “out of nothing” –  is often used to describe sudden creation. In this exhibition, it names something more intimate: the thoughts, emotions, and quiet awareness that arise within the viewer while spending time with Matthew Remsbecher’s paintings, where very little is given at first glance and meaning must surface gradually.

Across modern art history, artists have turned to black at moments when painting needed to slow down, reset, or speak plainly. Kazimir Malevich (1879–1935), working in Moscow and Petrograd around the Russian Revolution, used black to make a radical break—an attempt to begin again from a clean slate. Robert Motherwell (1915–1991), based in New York, carried black as a weight of political loss and historical grief in the aftermath of war. Mark Rothko (1903–1970), working primarily in New York, shaped black into quiet, inward spaces that invite reflection and emotional vulnerability. Ad Reinhardt (1913–1967), also working in New York, stripped painting down with black, asking viewers to look longer and more carefully, without distraction.

Matthew Remsbecher (b. 1985) enters this lineage from a different place. Working in Bellingham, Washington, his black paintings are not about starting over, mourning, transcendence, or refusal. They are about making. Built from black plaster over black paint, the surfaces hold texture, drag, and unevenness—clear evidence of work done by hand.

Raised around carpentry, travel, and unconventional living, and trained in sustainable design and urban planning, Remsbecher approaches painting as construction rather than illusion. These works do not announce themselves. They reward patience, closeness, and time spent looking. Here, black is not empty—it is carefully built, quietly held, and open to whatever the viewer brings into the space.