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Demons' Playground / Ronit Baranga in Booth Gallery New York

In her new solo exhibition Demons' Playground Ronit Baranga creates an installation of her sculptures, which might seem na?ve at first sight. It takes another look to let the sense of strange anxiety creep in. Images of playful childhood give way to inner, darker forces: The Baby clutches its small sweet fingertips into the belly-cushion, in painful symbiosis; Girls perceiving their inner being projected on themselves and on objects surrounding them - watching their wild side comes out intriguing and fascinating, letting go of inhibitions and fears - setting free the demons of emotionally charged and often painful rather than idyllic images of childhood.
It could be the fragile nature of the sculptures or is it the looks of the life-like characters - something about Baranga's works seems exposed and vulnerable, and at the same time amused and curious.

Alone / Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
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