"...Growth and sustainability are achieved not through individualism but through cooperative efforts and shared strengths. " 

- Molly Gambardella

Practices towards Preservation is the focus of the works by Andrew Arocho and Molly Gambardella exhibited at Future Fair in The CAMP Gallery’s Booth F7. Both of the artists share their deeply mindful and respectful appreciation of the landscape that has caught their attention. In a world that is often chaotic, the need for nature stands steadfast as a location of respite. These artists acknowledge this need as we all traverse a landscape often in peril. The risks to our environment should not outweigh our convenience as we rely and ingest more and more plastic, and as our seas not only rise, but are weighed down with what we discard. 
 

Andrew Arocho, an abstract artist has embraced the sea and the idea of the sublime while on and in the water. Understanding the awe inspiring quality of the sea, Arocho strives to capture both its unyielding power, but also the moments of peace that it affords. Cascading through waves, bluffs and still water, each of his works present different angles of the phenomenon of moving water. Seeing the sea also as a mirror into one’s own self, Arocho also offers insight on the cyclical flow of both water, and life. One can assume that as the water can rage, then calm, so too does the individual—it is a matter of allowing and following the current towards the destination one envisions. 
 

Looking at the environment and landscapes we all traverse, Molly Gambardella begins her journey with the goal of recycling what is trashed, what clogs our hills, streams and more. An avid outdoors person, Gambardella also strives to teach and pay homage to the many microcosms that make up our planet. Primarily looking at Lichens, she takes these tiny entities from under a microscope and enlarges them, at times to more than sixty inches. Her work is comprised of thousands of silk petals that she painstakingly pieces together to create the abundance that mirrors lichens. Her work also crosses the lines between art and design culminating in works that function both as art, but also as a reminder of the fragility of nature and how each ecosystem is needed to keep our planet healthy - and of course, ourselves. 
 

Combined, these artists look at the landscape that is our environment, soaking in the abuses, and the weakness—and in so doing, they not only focus on the obvious, the external but also on the internal. In this way, how we feel internally can be seen by how we treat what is outside and around us. 

Statement and Curation by Melanie Prapopoulos

Join us in this Q&A as the artists delve into their respective experiences with the environment that surrounds them and its impact on their internal world. 

Andrew Arocho. "Artic Voyage," 2025. Acrylic, oil pastel, ink, cement, and rope on canvas. 60 × 48 inches. Andrew Arocho. "Sea Fleet," 2025. Acrylic, oil pastel, ink, and Main Sail material on canvas. 47 × 40 inches. "Black Ice," 2025. Acrylic, oil pastel, ink, and Main Sail material on canvas. 60 × 48 inches. 

How does drawing inspiration from the natural world influence the way you think about time, scale, or transformation in your work?

Andrew Arocho: I draw inspiration from the natural world by remaining mindful and deeply connected to the idea that human emotions and everyday life are intrinsically linked to nature. By comparing these emotional experiences to the life of the sea and sailing, I find a natural flow of inspiration that informs my creative process. This connection enables me to produce expressive gestures and bodies of work that continuously push me to evolve and explore greater depths.

Molly Gambardella: Drawing inspiration from the natural world significantly shapes my perception of time, scale, and transformation in my artwork. Nature operates on a scale and timeline that is both vast and intricate, teaching us about the beauty of growth, decay, and the cyclical nature of life. This perspective encourages me to think of my work as part of a larger, ongoing process rather than isolated moments. In terms of time, it instills a sense of patience and respect for the slow, transformative processes that lead to maturity, whether in a natural or artistic context. Scale-wise, it pushes me to explore the juxtaposition between the minuscule and the monumental, reminding me that impactful messages can be conveyed through both the grandiose and the subtle. Transformation in the natural world, with its endless cycle of renewal and change, inspires me to imbue my work with a sense of evolution, inviting viewers to consider not just the final piece but the journey it took to get there.

Your practice involves repetition and layering. What does that accumulation process mean to you emotionally or conceptually?

AA: To me, repetition and layering signify both discovery and a sense of completion. Releasing these gestures and layers is essential to achieving my creative objectives and experiencing a meaningful sense of emotional fulfillment in both my work and life.

MG: The repetition and layering in my practice are deeply meaningful, both emotionally and conceptually. Emotionally, this accumulation process is meditative and reflective, allowing me to delve deeper into my thoughts and feelings with each layer I add. It's a way of embedding my energy and emotions into the work, making each piece a tangible manifestation of my internal world at the time of its creation. Conceptually, this process symbolizes the complexity of human experiences and emotions. Just as our personalities and perceptions are built up over time through repeated experiences and layered memories, so too are my artworks. Each layer contributes to the overall depth and richness, suggesting that understanding and meaning are cumulative and can be uncovered in stages.
 

Molly Gambardella. "Lichen LVII," 2025. Silk, acrylic, cotton, wood, chicken wire. 36 × 36 × 10 inches."Lichen XXXVI," 2025. Silk, acrylic, cotton, wood, chicken wire. 18 × 18 × 5 inches."Lichen XLI," 2025. Silk, acrylic, cotton, wood, chicken wire. 24 × 24 × 6 inches.

How do you hope a viewer physically and emotionally experiences your work? Are there sensory cues or emotional rhythms you’re intentionally building in?

AA: Through my work, I aim to spark a journey of discovery, encouraging the viewer to delve deeper into the story or inspiration that lies within. As they engage, I hope it resonates on an emotional level, forging a connection between the raw intensity of human feeling and the graceful, purposeful movement of sailing.
 

Sailing, much like life, is a blend of highs and lows. On the open water, there are moments when the wind fills the sails perfectly, and the boat glides forward effortlessly, much like the fleeting times of clarity and peace we all seek. These are the moments when everything falls into place, when the sea seems endless and full of possibility. But then, there are the storms—times when the wind turns harsh, waves crash unpredictably, and the horizon becomes a blur. Yet, it is through these struggles that sailors find their resilience, learning to navigate with skill and patience. The contrast between these peaceful and turbulent moments mirrors the dual nature of existence—where triumph and challenge coexist, each shaping the journey toward a deeper understanding of oneself and the world.

MG: I hope viewers experience my work in a way that is as multi-layered and nuanced as the process of creating it. Physically, I aim for my pieces to draw viewers in, encouraging them to explore the details and textures up close and then step back to appreciate the work as a whole. Emotionally, I strive to create a connection that resonates on a personal level, sparking curiosity, reflection, or even a sense of wonder. I am intentional about incorporating sensory cues, whether through color, texture, or form, to evoke specific feelings or atmospheres. Similarly, I consider the emotional rhythms of my work, aiming to guide viewers through a narrative or experience that fluctuates and evolves, much like a piece of music with its crescendos and diminuendos. Ultimately, I hope my work leaves a lasting impression that invites viewers to return, discovering new layers and meanings with each visit.

 

Questions for Andrew Arocho

Andrew Arocho. "Sea Fleet," 2025. Acrylic, oil pastel, ink, and Main Sail material on canvas. 47 × 40 inches.

You are originally from the Bronx, and are returning to New York to show your work. How does it feel to exhibit in your home state, especially with paintings rooted in a sense of personal and emotional voyage?

AA: Returning to New York always feels refreshing, especially with a more refined and evolved version of my work. Every visit marks a step forward in both my art and my life. The creative energy here continually sparks inspiration, rooted in the original abstract expressionist movement born in this city. I truly believe New York will always be a powerful source of influence on my artistic journey.

Has the sea always been a central focus in your work, or is it something you've explored more recently?

AA:  From a young age, I’ve felt a deep connection to the ocean, a bond that remains central to my creative process. The experience of sailing complements this connection, influencing the gestures and marks I explore in my paintings. The sea provides a space for both tranquility and reflection, while also representing the emotional intricacies of daily life. My work intertwines these themes—water, movement, sailing, and emotion—creating a narrative that is both personal and intuitive. 

Your paintings don’t just depict the sea, they seem to embody its motion. What role does rhythm or flow play in how you begin and end a work?

AA: Rhythm and flow are central to my paintings. I often channel a specific rhythm and flow once inspiration strikes or when I identify the ideal canvas size for a particular project. While my process may involve stepping away from a painting for some time, I firmly believe this pause is essential to achieving a sense of completeness and fulfillment with each piece.

Andrew Arocho. "Untitled," 2025. Acrylic, watercolor, oil pastel, ink on Main Sail material. 12 × 12 inches.

In your work you use the imagery of the sea as a metaphor for the self. How do you visually distinguish between peace and turbulence in your compositions?

AA: In my paintings, I seek to visually contrast peace and turbulence by always maintaining a positive outlook in reality. while acknowledging the immense blessing and privilege of being able to live in this world and express myself through art. I am deeply aware that not everyone has the opportunity to do so, as many people around the world face struggles that are beyond their control. This awareness fosters a sense of emotion and consciousness in my work. My goal is to inspire gratitude & awareness in others, ideally reminding viewers through my art that there are always those facing greater challenges.

What does the sea represent to you personally, and why do you return to it in your practice?

AA: To me, the ocean symbolizes both positive, calming energy and the powerful, unpredictable nature of the unknown when not approached with respect and understanding. I consistently return to it in my practice, as it is a natural part of my identity—rooted in my Caribbean heritage and my life in Miami.

Are there recurring visual motifs or gestures in your work that function like personal symbols? If so, how did they develop over time?

AA: I incorporate a range of distinctive gestures and marks in my work—elements that have evolved organically through the development of my artistic practice. These visual motifs serve as a kind of personal archive of mark-making, emerging intuitively to establish a sense of compositional balance between the canvas and each piece.

How do your material choices shift your mindset while working? Does ink as compared to paint make you more reactive, does concrete slow you down, do sails call for a different kind of sensitivity?

AA: My choice of materials often reflects shifts in my mindset during the creative process. Ink allows for a controlled yet dynamic form of expression, offering a sense of organized chaos. In contrast, my brushstrokes are typically fluid and spontaneous, evoking a therapeutic rhythm. When working with mainsail fabric or rope, I feel deeply connected to the narrative I aim to convey—one that draws a parallel between the experience of sailing and the complexity of human emotion. Cement, on the other hand, introduces a sense of texture and weight that presents a consistent challenge. Whether applied by hand or with a palette knife, it evokes a tactile resistance similar to that of painting, yet with its own unique demands.

Questions for Molly Gambardella

Molly Gambardella. "Two Flowers in a Pot," 2025.Plastic, Wire and Cement. 72 × 60 × 30 inches. 

Your work enlarges micro-organisms like lichens into monumental forms. What does that act of scale-shifting mean to you in terms of power, presence, or urgency?

MG: Enlarging micro-organisms like lichens into monumental forms is a deliberate act of scale-shifting that holds profound significance for me. This transformation speaks to the power of the overlooked and the ostensibly insignificant, magnifying their presence to a scale that demands attention and cannot be ignored. It's a statement about the urgency of recognizing and valuing the smaller, quieter elements of our world, which play critical roles in our ecological and spiritual existence. By elevating these forms, I aim to challenge perceptions of importance and worth, suggesting that true power lies in the interconnectedness of all life forms, regardless of their size.

Is there a specific moment in your making process when the piece begins to “come alive” for you?

MG: The moment a piece begins to "come alive" for me is both distinct and varied, depending on the project at hand. It's less about a mystical awakening and more about the point at which the materials, through their assembly and interaction, start to reflect the initial concept or emotion that inspired me. This transition is often unanticipated, surfacing as the repetition and layering within the work converge to embody the narrative or feeling I've been aiming to capture. It's a critical juncture where the artwork transitions from being a mere construct of materials to something that embodies a unique presence and communicates its essence. Each piece reaches this stage through its own path, making it a fascinating and dynamic aspect of the creative process.

How has your relationship with the outdoors influenced your sense of scale, movement, or spatial design in your installations?

MG: My relationship with the outdoors profoundly influences my approach to scale, movement, and spatial design in my installations. Immersion in natural spaces teaches me about the dynamism of ecosystems, the dance of light and shadow, and the intricate balance between presence and absence. These experiences inform my spatial designs, encouraging me to think of my installations not just as objects in a space but as environments themselves, inviting interaction and exploration. The outdoors instills a sense of fluidity and openness in my work, guiding me to create pieces that breathe, move, and exist in harmony with their surroundings.

Molly Gambardella. "Lichen 59," 2025. Silk, acrylic, cotton, wood, chicken wire. 12 × 12 × 10 inches.

How does your background in education influence the language of your work? Do you consider it didactic, poetic, or something in between?

MG: My background in education deeply informs the language of my work, positioning it in a liminal space between didacticism and poetry. While I aim to enlighten and inform, sparking curiosity and encouraging viewers to explore deeper meanings and connections, I also strive to evoke emotion and provoke thought through a poetic sensibility. This dual approach allows my work to be accessible and engaging, inviting viewers into a dialogue that educates not through instruction but through experience and reflection.

Your installations border on the biological and the synthetic. Do you see your use of silk and other human-made materials as a critique of artificiality or a reconciliation with it?

MG: The use of silk and other human-made materials in my installations that border on the biological and synthetic is both a critique of artificiality and a reconciliation with it. These materials symbolize the complex relationship humanity has with nature—simultaneously destructive and creative. By integrating these elements into works that echo natural forms, I aim to highlight the tension between our desire to control and manipulate the natural world and the beauty that arises when we work in harmony with it. It's a call to reconsider our impact and to find a more symbiotic way of coexisting with the natural world.

Lichens are known for their symbiotic survival. How does that scientific truth resonate in the way you think about community, interdependence, or even artistic labor?

MG:  The scientific truth of lichens' symbiotic survival deeply resonates with my perspectives on community, interdependence, and artistic labor. In my work, this concept becomes a metaphor for the essential nature of collaboration and mutual support, not only within ecosystems but within human societies and the art world. It underscores the belief that growth and sustainability are achieved not through individualism but through cooperative efforts and shared strengths. This theme of symbiosis informs my approach to creating art, emphasizing the importance of connection, dialogue, and shared experiences in fostering a vibrant, resilient community.