by Robert Brune

At a time when public discourse often feels shaped by omission, distortion, and ideological pressure, the exhibition “Redacted” at Art Up in Margaretville confronted those tensions directly through imagery that ranged from confrontational to quietly haunting. The opening reception gathered artists and visitors into an atmosphere of serious reflection where themes of censorship, propaganda, violence, and obscured truth unfolded across painting, collage, sculpture, and mixed media works.

The exhibition succeeds because it does not rely on a single interpretation of “redaction.” Some artists approached the subject with overt political symbolism while others explored concealment through texture, fragmentation, and layered materials. Together the works formed a deeply human response to a culture increasingly shaped by manipulation, information control, and revisionist narratives.

Among the strongest direct statements was Gary Mayer’s “Show of Force,” which examined the machinery of state violence with little ambiguity. Brett DePalma’s “Quicksand” and Kurt Novak’s “Alien Invasion” similarly reflected anxieties surrounding authoritarianism and destabilized social reality. Stephen Lewis offered one of the exhibition’s more biting satirical works with his depiction of the Kool-Aid character in “Fake News,” connecting mass media spectacle to populist propaganda and manufactured belief systems.

Jennifer Lord Rhodes’ “MK Filtered” stood apart for its poetic restraint. Using redacted text as both visual structure and emotional tension, Rhodes transformed censorship itself into an artistic language. Rather than merely obscuring information, the work forced viewers to sit with absence and uncertainty. The painting became a meditation on what institutions choose to erase and what fragments still survive beneath suppression.

Other artists embraced more subtle visual approaches that rewarded close observation. Deirdre Day’s remarkable paper sculpted collage “Rifleman” initially appeared almost painterly from a distance, with elegant peach and pink tonal variations flowing across the canvas. Only upon closer inspection did viewers begin discovering fragments of rifles, targets, and gun imagery buried within the surface.

Constructed from editions of American Rifleman magazines dating from roughly 1958 through 1972, the piece carried layers of historical commentary without descending into simplification. “I want them to be okay with, you don’t know what they are, but when you do know, you go, ‘oh,’” Day explained while discussing the embedded imagery hidden throughout the work.

Day’s process itself mirrored the exhibition’s broader theme. The materials are broken down, reshaped, concealed, and reconstructed into something simultaneously beautiful and unsettling. Her sculptural surfaces blur the line between attraction and discomfort, forcing viewers to reconsider familiar cultural artifacts through a different emotional lens.

Jerry Gallo’s “Coal and Coal Mining” also incorporated print-based source material while remaining visually rooted in his signature abstract geometric style. The colorful interplay of forms softened the severity of the subject matter without diminishing its social implications. The work suggested the lingering weight of industrial history and labor while exploring how memory itself becomes fragmented over time.

One of the exhibition’s most fascinating conceptual contributions came from Kate Taverna, whose redacted x-ray works merged personal anatomy, fossil imagery, and hidden information into layered visual puzzles. Using found x-rays from 1993, Taverna obscured skeletal imagery with bars and interruptions inspired partly by heavily censored government documents tied to Agent Orange investigations. “I want to be able to read a piece of information, and it’s blacked out,” Taverna said. “Right now, it’s covered up. It’s hidden, and you get other meanings when you put two bars in front of a hand.”

Her works invited viewers into a strange dance between revelation and concealment. Dinosaur forms emerged faintly beneath layers of obstruction while fragments of the human body became almost alien in appearance. The x-rays carried both vulnerability and mystery, reminding viewers that censorship does not merely hide facts. It alters perception itself.

What made “Redacted” particularly compelling was the way the exhibition avoided becoming visually repetitive despite its focused conceptual framework. Each artist found distinct ways to approach the tension between what is visible and what is intentionally hidden. Some works expressed outrage while others leaned into ambiguity and introspection.

The exhibition also felt timely without becoming trapped in contemporary headlines. Many of the themes explored here have existed throughout history whenever governments, corporations, or ideological movements attempt to control narrative and memory. The artists recognized that suppression is rarely limited to information alone. It often extends into culture, identity, and human dignity itself.

As viewers moved through the gallery during the reception, conversations reflected genuine engagement with the work rather than passive observation. There was a shared understanding that these pieces were asking difficult questions about truth, manipulation, and accountability in modern society.

Artists throughout history have often risen to describe human experience through imagery when political and corporate powers fail to fully embrace the realities of human life. “Redacted” stands firmly within that tradition. The exhibition is both an act of courage and a pointed call for justice, honesty, and deeper reflection in a time increasingly clouded by distortion and erasure.