In his solo show at Dorsch Gallery this September, Brandon Opalka meditates on the place where he paints, a space he calls 'Yonder.' Opalka chose an image that reflects on this idea to announce the exhibition. A sun rises in the background, illuminating his assemblage of model animals and modeling clay. The image is actually two, layered together in Photoshop, marrying the detail of model with the way the light shines through trees outside his studio in Morningside. This intertwining of imagery calls on how, in art history, light represents thought. Here, in this mind space visualized, is Opalka's 'Yonder.'

Opalka paints from these models and other examples from art historical paintings, not from life. In the case of his models, he translates these mass-produced plastic animal toys, after altering them into a colorful diorama configuration, back into two-dimensional paintings on a grander and more rarified manifestation. The toys are a corporation's decision of what the animals' forms should be. Opalka's appropriation of them in his sculptural forms and then translation of them onto canvas makes the low high, the ideal subjective, the 'real' dreamlike. One's impressions of dreams when encountering Opalka's paintings are exactly what are most real in 'Yonder.'

The method of working with models has been a part of Opalka's process for several years now. This thread has taken him through dreamlike representational canvases to seemingly abstract work. In this show, Opalka returns to recognizable forms, while working toward an allegory that will fill out his opus.

Acknowledging this eventual goal, Opalka will pair text panels arbitrarily with his paintings, such that each painting has a story made evident, but that story is not necessarily his. This gesture underlines what is so frustrating and appealing about painting. Painting's value is in the stories it evokes, in falling into it, into 'Yonder,' where the stories fall away.

Born in Virginia, Opalka moved to South Florida in his early teens. Graffiti was the first visual form that attracted him. Mark making with spray cans defined his middle and high school years. After spending one semester at IFAC (International Fine Arts College), Opalka left to make art full-time. He worked with the collective FeCuOp (with artists Christian Curiel and Jason Ferguson). As a self-taught painter, Opalka makes art on walls and canvases. As such his exhibition history contains some walls that cannot be listed here. In December 2007 he painted the west facing 100-foot wall of the Dorsch Gallery. The mural resembled more his large canvases than his street work. This July, he and his crew painted over the faded mural. The production, which will still be on view this September, included 11 different versions of Opalka's street name. He has had one-man exhibitions at Rocket Projects, Ingalls & Associates and Dorsch Gallery. His work has been curated into major group exhibitions at Tomio Koyama Gallery in Tokyo, Japan; Whitebox, New York; and Bass Museum of Art, Miami, FL. He has exhibited extensively in Miami. Notable venues include Casa Lin, Open Space, Miami Beach Botanical Gardens, The House and Locust Projects. He lives and works in Miami.

Robin Griffiths, a mid-career sculptor, personifies the mad scientist/artist. Indeed, Griffiths teaches math at Miami Dade College, is an electrician, and maintains a sculpture studio whose creative chaos rivals that of Jean Genet's descriptions of Alberto Giacometti's studio. His sculptures demonstrate Griffiths' knowledge of physics and his sense of dangerous beauty.

This September the namesake piece in Griffiths' exhibition demonstrates how much mechanics can exponentially increase the force of a simple touch. In the shape of a wishbone, a cable is strung tightly between the two ends. Another line bisects it, making a 'T' form that is the nexus of the mechanical advantage. The sculpture's form evokes a harp, a symbol of ordered, heavenly music. And yet the combined raw force of physics and wood belie the comparison with those sleek string instruments of the past.

The works in the show will demonstrate the mechanics of circuitry, electronics, springs and beauty. Or is it the beauty of mechanics?

On Saturday, September 20th at 2 pm, in the spirit of his teaching career and the scientific aspects of his artistic practice, Griffiths will give a lecture on the mechanics and physics of his sculptures. Griffiths will play himself. There will be a blackboard and chalk. Visitors are asked to observe, linger and learn. Chairs, desks, pencil and paper will be provided.

Born Robert Edwin Griffiths in Long Island in 1958, Griffiths moved to South Florida in the 1960s. Since then he has been an eagle scout, an electrician, a student, audiophile, sculptor, teacher and accumulator extraordinaire. The intensity with which he sees and experiences the world is something he tries to capture in the objects he collects. His South Miami house is a wunderkabinet of intimate and curious objects. This place, his home and studio, are a source of his creativity and his 'Ball and Chain.' Robert Chambers titled Griffiths' first solo show with this phrase in 1999 at Dorsch Gallery, in the gallery's walk-up location. Griffiths had recently gotten his MFA from the University of Miami sculpture program, after having also gotten a Master's in mathematics and computer science. Since then, he has done several collaborations with Chambers, including 'Soundwell' at the Museum of Contemporary Art in North Miami in 1993. This will be his fifth solo exhibition at Dorsch Gallery. One of these exhibitions was 'Spue' in 2004, which Paula Harper, an Art History Professor at UM, reviewed in Art in America. He has been in numerous group shows in Miami, including SITES 2004 at Lummus Park and other shows at Miami Beach Botanical Garden, Museum of Contemporary Art in North Miami and the Lowe Art Museum. He is an inspiration to generations of Miami artists.