Glue Traps presents Spencer Vazquez’s first solo exhibition as a tactile meditation on grief, family, and the unstable life of photographs. At BAXTER ST, the artist treats images not as fixed records but as vulnerable objects that age, crack, shift, and absorb the traces of daily life. The exhibition gathers tape transfers, scans, family photographs, and digital fragments into a body of work that feels at once intimate and materially restless.
Vazquez’s process grows from a personal archive shaped by his late father, a housepainter, and by the sheer abundance of images left behind in prints, negatives, and files. Rather than separating nostalgia from experimentation, he lets them coexist. His tape transfer method, revisited after first learning it in high school, turns a humble craft material into a vehicle for memory. The resulting surfaces carry a reversed image, a visible labor, and a sense of fragility that echoes the unstable way personal histories are preserved.
Several works also draw from the artist’s phone, scanned directly onto a flatbed surface so that screen time becomes physical matter. The phone’s pixels, motion, and refresh rates leave behind moiré patterns, bands, and distortions, translating the digital image into something uneven and bodily. In these works, technology does not erase touch; it reveals another kind of touch, one shaped by repetition, friction, and delay.
Blue painter’s tape, borrowed from the visual world of his father’s trade, threads through the exhibition as both material and metaphor. It links housework to image-making, ordinary labor to mourning, and repair to residue.
Glue Traps holds all of this in tension: the photographs act as keepsakes and artifacts, but also as things still becoming, still vulnerable to time. Vazquez gives form to an archive of love and loss, where pixels, dust, hair, and memory remain inseparable.
Image:
© Spencer Vazquez