"Mine is a strange world
Of criminal silences
Of strangers' watchful eyes
Misreading the evil."
An artist is never alone. An artist carries with him a portal to a dimension only he can gaze into. He carries along fantasies as if balloons on a string, every so often drawing one close, setting it to paper, to ceramic, to clay. And then, an artist like Adam Wallacavage comes along, and cracks himself open: his fantasies, dreams, and tangents splayed around him in a townhouse in South Philly. His home is weird, it's dark. It's playful, and bizarre. A taxidermied boar sporting a top hat stands on the floor, laughing. A skeleton hangs from the rafters. "I like dark, but I don't like evil," Wallacavage says.
He continues: "The whole 'satanic' thing is corny, so I like to mix it up with something glittery. It's mystery, looking into dark areas where you don't know what's there." The 1995 graduate of the University of the Arts may be best known for his octopus-themed chandeliers, which can be found every where you turn in the 3,000 square-foot residence he's inhabited for over 14 years. They hang from ceilings, reach through the empty eye sockets of a skull resting on a leopard-print footstool, lurk at the foot of a bed. Wallacavage says: "I'll design things with an idea of where I want it in the house, and if it doesn't sell, I keep it."
Catch a glimpse of one of Wallacavage's works this upcoming week at University of the Arts' Art Unleashed exhibit. The show, which runs from April 9-14 opens with a preview party tomorrow, April 9th. Collector level tickets will get you a behind the scenes look at the show, including a private talk with spotlight artist Dan Walsh, whose large geometric paintings were included in the 2014 Whitney Biennial.
But if you don't end up buying Wallacavage's 'Creepoid,' the glossy black cephalopod lamp on sale for $6,500, don't fret. You know it'll happily slide right back home to South Philly.