“There is something oddly tender about [Leonard’s] monstrous creatures. I believe this is partly a result of his unusual and intensive process. Although Leonard’s work often mimics digital effects, it is mostly made through analogue means such as painting real colors on faces and shooting through actual water drops. His work is, as artist and writer Claudia Hart once said, “a simulation of a simulation.” Surprisingly, at the other end of the simulation, instead of finding more of the machine, you find the human.”
“Though self-portraiture is one of art history’s oldest genres, Leonard’s innovative techniques elevate the medium to new process-driven heights.”
“The starting point for Rollin Leonard’s newest series was the all-too-familiar stock photos of dew drops clinging to surfaces—be it a flower, stem, or a spider web—and a desire to find a way to use the visual distortions they create. Once applied to imagery of the human body, Leonard’s main subject matter for the past several years, the reproduced drops are merged with flesh in an unsettling yet evocative way.”
“The photographic image, whether still or in motion, is a truly pliable medium for artist Rollin Leonard. Whether through digital manipulation, camera effects, or some combination thereof, in Leonard’s mind, photography can undergo nearly infinite distortion and re-imagining.”
“In Rollin’s...hilarious and terrifying work, he conjoin(s) frantically flailing digitized parts of his body into animated mutants, with butt-cheeky polymeliac can-can lines and gigantic waving fingers sprouting out of tiny heads.”
“Leonard plays off our innate empathy for and recognition of the body, allowing us to find something ‘human’ even in its most scrambled articulations.”
“Contrary to what the brain and eyes might conspire to think, these images were made with virtually no digital manipulation in the traditional sense of the practice—no pixilating filters, no liquefy tool, and no Photoshopped distortion is responsible for creating the impression of a third dimension.”
“Merging corporate aesthetics with organic metaphor, [Leonard’s pieces are] a riff on the finance term “liquidity,” as well as the under-financed creative labor reserves of the thirst economy.”