Dario Argento’s 1977 film Suspiria left a lasting impression on me. It’s moments of indiscernibility, of looming disquiet, of eyes flashing against a blackened screen have stuck with me long since first watch. It’s an exhilarating study of the ominous, of unease, of femininity, and the complexities between, all of which are at the heart of Meghann Stephenson’s show “I’ll Be Your Mirror.” The seven oil paintings in the show are done in flat, muted neutrals and center around a woman set against a deep black background. Devoid of detail, the vacant backgrounds enable us to build a scene around the character and create our own fantastical stories from the moments Stephenson reveals.

In A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing, the woman (who bears a resemblance to Stephenson) is slightly reclined, wrapped in a brown fur pulled tight against her throat, her hair tucked under the collar so not a glimpse of flesh is seen. Eyes squinting off to the left, she appears guarded against a looming threat. The quiet unease, the feeling of impending menace, isn’t limited to the external but emanates from the central figure herself. Her gaze, while wary, is unwavering as if tempting conflict. In I’ll Be Your Mirror, she and her she and her doppelganger, dressed in matching pink nightgowns, stare down the viewer with unwavering gazes that tease of unrevealed secrets. Behind them is a mirror in which one of them is reflected, back to us as if to defy scrutiny or legibility.

The work’s pared-down details can be understood as an omission; the figure reflective of a carefully crafted persona that threatens to break at any moment. Stephenson succeeds in illustrating the haunting experience of living within a fractured self.

Meghann Stephenson: I’ll Be Your Mirror
Half Gallery
By appointment only