Jabari Jordan-Walker and Marc Matchak

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Marc Matchak

FORTUNE gallery & press

2235 W Burnside St. Unit A

Portland, OR 97210

January 16th — February 28th, 2016

An exhibition and book release.

We the audience are facing conundrums:

Marc says there is a tennis match going, but there is no victory and the rules are somewhat fictive. Jabari gave us instructions on how to build a folded object out of copper, yet it's final form is impossible. Given these circumstances we may feel irresolute. These selected objects, companions in our small space for a time, are gently voicing concern about our expectations of fairness and order in our world.

Will Elder, curator

Jan 11, 2016

Jabari Jordan-Walker

It

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 1

Marc Matchak

Seat Saver (Stupid Metonym)

Chair

Marc Matchak

Seat Saver (Stupid Metonym)

Marc Matchak

Chair

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 2

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 3

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 4

Marc Matchak

Victor

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Untitled

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Kinfold

Jabari Jordan-Walker

One Hundreth of a Dollar

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 5

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Untitled

Folded Object 6

Marc Matchak

Lovely Court Inspection

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Untitled

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 7

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 8

Folded Object 9

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Folded Object 10

Marc Matchak

A Surprising Letter From Ricci Bitti

Jabari Jordan-Walker

Jabari Jordan-Walker

FOLDED OBJECT INSTRUCTIONS

Marc Matchak

Marc Matchak

RECENT POEMS

All works by Jabari Jordan-Walker 2015-2016

All works by Marc Matchak 2011-2016

Waldorf Court Kids

Without knowledge of gameplay, a novice thrust into the heat of the match may face a flurry of anxieties. But as a preface, the rules of the game are still readable, not necessarily comprehensive, to everyone. On the tennis court men must play 5 sets while women play to 3. Judges administer these rules by that which dictates their place and both become determinants for gameplay. But if we were to temporarily suspend victory, perhaps the rule makers and objects themselves could become suggestive of game pieces. Like the racquet and the ball, these are the things that seem evident, and thus more material. The state of play, the possibility of playing is unknowable. But once one learns the actual game, one can grow tired of playing. There are always discrepant matters corrupting the possibility of total inclusivity. We can’t just play 4 sets. There may not be enough time to get a full match in. No winner is determined on a basis of wandering on the court with others, but no one is at a loss. Waldorf’s Court Kids is a series of artworks that attempts to play with rules in their most evident forms. The models suggest a narrative adjacent to preconceived or administered conditions of gameplay not necessarily in dialect opposition. Rather this pairing is of a different game, matching fiction with rules and compelling the player to substitute strategy for more important things like make believe, love, and comedy.

—Marc Matchak

Jabari Jordan-Walker (b. 1988 Chicago, IL) is a writer, artist, and occasional curator currently based in Portland, OR. Jordan-Walker is driven by a critique on the pervasive within commodity, wealth, art history, and visual culture. By taking the form of poetry, temporary sculpture, and short-form critical texts Jordan-Walker’s work looks to create conversations surrounding the urban and hinterland. He has most recently been included in a group exhibition at Surplus Space in Portland, OR. Jordan-Walker's writing has been featured in PIN-UP Magazine for Architectural Entertainment, Bartleby Review, and Pythagoras Records.

Marc Matchak is an artist currently living in San Francisco, California. Recent past work has been shown through Pamela’s in Kula, HI and the Time Based Arts Festival in Portland. Writing has been published through The Volta, GaussPDF, Split/Fountain, Muscle Beach, and Amur-Initiatives. Marc is interested in comedy and love as interruptions or abstractions of the world around us.