In Ava Day's paintings there are natural settings, parks, gardens, and lakes. In ‘THE GLADE’, there is visible through an opening in the woods an ubiquitous, mysterious, infinite light, as in a saint's apparition. Her use of water as a subject further evokes thoughts and emotions about the infinite. Water is where we come from in evolution, the root of our consciousness, as in the ocean of our subconscious; water as the mirror of oneself, a particularly female self.

Ava Day splendidly succeeds in providing us with a personal yet universal view of life and the human condition, and a look of what's behind all this: consciousness of time, the essence of matter, the essence of life. This is truly the sign of a great artist. At times, she applies paint as if bits of matter are flung onto the canvas. The flung-on bits, like pieces of flesh are thrown into life, ripped of its bigger parts. This makes one contemplate the innate connection between the light and the natural surroundings, making one realize the connectedness of all life. Miss Day's style of flinging paint onto canvas has successfully transformed her paintings from being renderings of a reality created by the painter’s imagination to ultimately making the act of painting, and the material used to paint and how this material is used, the meaning of her art, and probably her life. This could be difficult to understand, but essential in comprehending the importance of Ava Day.

Stefan Eins
Conceptual artist, Painter, Sculptor
Science Researcher
Founder, Fashion Moda

The imaginary landscapes of Ava Day, rooted in Symbolism, reflect the artist's affinity for skies, trees, and fields as an expression of complex, yet orchestrated passion! Her palette ranges mostly from deep cerulean, ultraviolet, and Prussian and cobalt blues to lime or deep greens. Some have vistas of lavender or skies of metallic silver or red. Skies are often built up with layers of washes or under-painting, giving the haunting impression that the wing-like clouds are moving. The artist relates that some paintings take years to complete, due to nuances of color and shading

Trees are painted impasto; branches ripple or sway in dramatic excitement and mystery. They are aflutter with flaming tongues, or wiggling cloud-like formations. Some muted nearly-nocturnals portray cotton-candy-like trees drifting into the calm of deeply colored surrounds. One can look at these visionary paintings for hours, and see intriguingly new things in the woods, fields, and skies. Is there a breeze that makes the tree branches cluster so, or is it a longing of the trees to express a story, or an emotion, which is indescribable?

“My work speaks of the connection of human beings with the earth and shows this link as a source of power.”  Ava Day’s images reflect passageways, not cynical or ugly, but alluring and beautiful, and like herself, mysterious.

Making New York City her territory, she exploded onto the art scene with a series of shows, from Fashion Moda in the South Bronx, through the East Village, to the Puck Building, Tribeca, SoHo, and the World Trade Center.  Her work can be found in the collections of Sidney Sutter on the New York Council of the Arts, and Stefan Eins, International artist as well as founder and director of Fashion Moda Gallery, to name but a few.

She has previously made her living in the fashion business, greeting card business and in advertising.  Her success now enables her to create the paintings she loves.

O’Delle L. Abney
The Corner Gallery, ‘All The Elements’
Concourse Level, World Trade Center
‘All the Elements’

Ava Day is a young artist who has preferred to perfect her unique vision rather than join in the trends of her contemporaries. Her paintings suggest mythologies, although often unfamiliar.  There is a timeless quality in which the moment is heightened, or that time has literally ceased. The primal forces, in fact, ‘all the elements’ depicted in these works seem either bathed in light or glowing from a source within.

Humanity and our world (or is it some other place?) are united by the light, the white light long associated with healing power, sacred energies. This artist’s work speaks of each persons connection to the earth and the power and centeredness derived from this relationship. 

Ava Day depicts her “elements” as active.  An undeniable presence appears either tranquil, or at times disturbing. In her world the underlying vibrancy of life is made visible and reinforces our sense of oneness with the worlds of spirit and nature.  Although descriptions as visionary or a new symbolism spring to mind, one would have to say that it is refreshing to see such immediate, contemporary work executed with an almost classic mastery of the medium, while at the same time depicts an enormous sense of consciousness and a very personal expression.

Anthony Haden-Guest

Ava Day paints in oil on linen.  Day is a New Yorker but you might not guess it from her art. She paints unpopulated, visionary landscapes, with trees that look like grown-up leaves, fields, lakes and radiant skies, tossing with clouds.  Occasionally she includes objects but they are usually not exactly part of the picture.  They sit there – a white teapot, whatever it may be – as if on the ledge of the window through which we are looking.  For the same reason, I think, she is fond of using elaborate frames.  These frames are not fancy packaging but theatrical devices.  Like the proscenium arch in a playhouse, they are invitations to enter Day’s interior worlds.

Artists who have dealt with dreams or waking visions, have often been rather other worldly in their métier, their paint handling.  Like William Blake, whose muscular Michelangelesque anatomies seem to have coalesced from pink smoke, or the wraith-like inventions of Odilon Redon, the suffocating Gustave Moreau, the inert picture surfaces of the haunting Rene Magritte.  Striking artists, all – but hardly interesting painters.
 
Such is not the case with Day.  Her surfaces are lush, succulent, sometimes as clotted as cream cakes, so that her paintings work as objects as well as reveries.  A tree will be formed by the brush, not illustrated by it, but then suddenly it will be luminous blue or ember red.  With (yes) a tangerine sky.  A few like-minded progenitors – mystics with some meat on their bones – come to mind.  I think of the gold skies in some Byzantine icons, real gold, real sky. And their massive pale green saints.  I think also of Blake’s acolyte, Samuel Palmer, in his exuberant Shoreham period, and the wonderful (earlier) New Yorker, Albert Pinkham Ryder.  These are artists who are far from having a methodical product line, by the way.  But when they flew, they flew.

Ava Day belongs in their company also because of her scale.  She has escaped that addiction to the out-size gesture that afflicts so much American art.  She doesn’t balk at whimsy or childlikeness and she is unafraid of poetry – the strength of poetry being that it can compact, that it can pack a whole interior universe into a carry-on bag, as often here.