More than a decade ago, a group of UNLV graduate students formed a reading group playfully named “Freedom Force.” Today, these former students are some of the best visual artists to come out of Las Vegas. And they’ve reunited for a group show at Sahara West Library called Freedom>

Force Redux.

You don’t need to know the backstory to understand or enjoy the group art show by Danielle Kelly, Wendy Kveck, Adam Morey and Erin Stellmon. But it just might save your brain some effort as it reaches for a theme just beyond its grasp.

The new work in F>FR feels connected, even if it’s difficult to put your finger on exactly how. Stellmon, the collaborative reunion show’s main curator, says that while there are lots of “crossovers” in each artist’s work, “it’s really more about who we are as individuals.”

The show was postponed by the pandemic but also influenced and inspired by it. The artists’ connections were born of proximity but have thrived despite distance. These days, Stellmon and Kelly live in Chicago and Baltimore, respectively; Kveck and Morey still live in Las Vegas.

Rather than plumb the depths of the concepts of pandemic isolation and vaccinated togetherness, let’s survey the work, artist by artist.

Kveck’s large-scale oil paintings are the stuff of nightmares, and that’s not an insult. She uses intense reds, furious brush strokes and scribbled linework to create images of pure emotion. The subjects are generally women who somehow seem to have their skin—but critically, not their makeup—removed. She’s spotlighting the impossible beauty standards for women, sure. But it’s also a relief and revelation to see subjects who are allowed to be ugly and hideous, and yet fully human. 

Similarly yet wholly differently, Kelly explores the demands of femininity. Her three breathtaking stuffed-fabric sculptures ( “Soft Skills I, II and III”) dominate the center of the gallery. They’re giant, nude floppy dolls with distorted body parts and extra boobs, or at least bonus appendages that appear to be. The creatures are displayed on stands in positions that look almost natural. In “III,” the figure rests in a sort of sacrificial backbend, her head splayed back and her six udder-like appendages exposed to all. “Soft Skills” is obviously a double-entendre, referring both to the soft fabric and to the business term “soft skills,” which are often dismissed as less valuable than, say, the “hard sciences.”

Morey presents a collection of delightfully puzzling mixed-media shadow boxes. Cloudy plastic both obscures and reveals whatever is inside. It’s fun to view the pieces at different distances and angles, attempting to decipher a bit of elusive clarity. His works are tantalizing and sometimes infuriating abstraction—like a photo that won’t fully download, showing only as a blur. It’s tempting to try to rip off the plastic covering to get to the prize inside. But that would be wrong, wouldn’t it?

Likely inspired by pandemic isolation, Stellmon presents acrylic and gouache sunset-hued nature scenes (“Restricted” and “Crossing the Bridge,” 2020). The catch? They’re partially blocked by a chain-link fence in the immediate foreground. Cruelly, the fences, too, are made beautifully by those sunset colors. A newer collage, created this year, depicts rocks and shattered glass busting through a construction fence. It’s titled “Make a Break”—a hope we all share.

Stellmon also presents a variety of collages, in which glass windows explode and rocks tumble in upon themselves. You might guess they were born of pandemic frustration and claustrophobia, but both were made pre-2020. It’s a striking reminder that things weren’t always perfect in the “before times.”

Freedom>Force Redux is both a social and artistic success. May this talented group continue on together for many years to come.

Click HERE to subscribe for free to the Weekly Fix, the digital edition of Las Vegas Weekly! Stay up to date with the latest on Las Vegas concerts, shows, restaurants, bars and more, sent directly to your inbox!