Susan Eldridge Ward makes paintings that feel like a party. Not the popular misconception of the party as a place of hedonism and self-indulgence; no, these paintings feel like parties as they’re actually experienced by people, Anxiety, sudden recognition, confusion and clues, excitement, danger, wild conviviality and feelings of isolation: they’re all there on her canvases, rendered with a mixture of curiosity and confidence that is hers alone.

A Susan Eldridge Ward painting is a kind of invitation. The West Orange, New Jersey artist’s vivid scenes are strangely penetrable — they welcome you in and leave you wondering. Who are these human (and humanoid) figures she’s placing in interaction with each other, and just as importantly, with you?  They’re not going to look like anybody you’ve met, but I’ll wager you find them recognizable anyway.  Their postures, their probing stares, their peculiar combination of assertiveness and vulnerability, childlike wonder and sinister, grown-up impassivity are all provocative in the truest sense: they impel an immediate emotional response. Ward often sets her characters in a strange, gravity-defying colorscape of bright hues and soft, melting shapes, paint drippings and rich black borderlines. Look closely, and you’ll see some ghosts; look even closer, and you might find that those phantoms are awfully familiar.

“What’s There For You, It’s For Me” certainly isn’t the first time that Susan Eldridge Ward’s work has been shown in Jersey City galleries, and it won’t be the last. But at this mid-career solo exhibition at IMUR, we’re focusing on the elements that make Ward an unusual painter: her audacious use of color, her knack for facial expression, her peculiar sense of innerspace and offbeat visual rhythm, and the exhilaration she expresses even when she’s painting from a position of uncertainty. But most of all, we want you to be present to the emotion that floods these canvases, and the sense of humor, fun, play, and surprise that is present in every stroke she commits to canvas. We trust you realize we mean nothing derogatory about Ward when we say there is a childlike quality to her work, nor do we mean to downplay her considerable technical skill. We mean that she grants herself the liberty to dream, and imagine, in a way that few grownups ever do. Even in the realm of visual art, that’s rare. We couldn't tell you why. We just know this: when we see it, we'd better celebrate it. Curator: Tris McCall