
Continuing through April 25, 2026
In the origami tradition, an artist begins with flat sheets of paper which are folded so as to create unlimited varieties of three-dimensional objects. “Folded Light,” Fritz Horstman’s poetically titled exhibition, draws on this logic but reverses its outcome. Horstman pleats sheets of paper, coats them with photo-sensitive emulsion, and exposes the resulting object to the sun. He then unfolds the paper and displays it flat, usually framed. Described in these terms, the project sounds simple enough. But in the gallery it becomes a complex mélange of trompe l’oeil effects and perceptual surprises. Horstman in effect upends origami’s premise. Rather than transforming two-dimensional paper into three-dimensional objects, he makes two-dimensional works that convincingly feign three-dimensional space.

The first impression of “Folded Palladium 1” is of a field of some one-hundred small triangles in black, white and gradations of gray. Seen up close, it becomes a relief map made up of quilted pyramid-shapes, solids sometimes with rounded pastry-like bottoms. A more careful third look reveals that it is actually a plane that has been folded then unfolded. In “Folded Palladium 24” the same pattern becomes a tornado-like central figure, set off against horizontal waves of fluid gray strokes on both the left and right, where Horstman has folded the paper into much larger parallel sections.

Though a form of lensless photography, Horstman’s works often take on the appearance of ink drawings. “Folded Palladium 4,” though completely abstract, feels referential and hand-drawn (as does #8 in the same series). The surface is given depth by the photo emulsion that renders subtle gradations commonly associated with pen and ink drawings. The mind imposes images of curvilinear roof tiles or bamboo water vessels onto the grey and white tubular shapes arranged in three vertical rows.
We often judge a drawing according to the skill the artist brings to constructing the effects of a light source. While Horstman’s photograms feign being drawings, he cannot truly control where light touches his folded paper.

The result is necessarily odd: we are discomfited by the inconsistency of light. But that effect reinforces the artificial, constructed nature of the work that is central to its aesthetic. The bottom left of “Folded Palladium 4” is the area most illuminated, with light leaking upward and to the right, but elsewhere in the composition spots of brightness appear randomly. Once the eye adjusts to this defeat of representational assumptions it becomes one of the most charming aspects of this as other works.
Three pieces assume the difficult task of coming up with novel ways to work with stripes, to mixed effect. It is difficult to fathom how Horstman was able to fold the paper to come up with such perfectly straight lines alternating in patterned black and white; thus there’s a puzzle-like aspect to them. “Number 19” lacks conviction, and “Number 23” brings to mind, too readily, chevron street signage. On the other hand, “Folded Palladium 5” is masterful in that it convincingly suggests two surface levels that match up favorably with Bridget Riley’s op art explorations.
In addition to the “Palladium” series, the exhibition also presents a selection of related work in silvery whites and blues. How you feel about the juxtaposition of black, gray and blue will inform how you react to the “Folded Cyanotype/Platinum-Palladium” trio of prints, in which the artist experiments with a two-color approach. They strike me as transitional works, with the two colors uneasily cohabiting with the folded surface’s illusions.
A selection of blueprint works titled “Folded Cyanotypes” are hung, unframed and casually, in a separate gallery. The blue tonality of these much larger works, in contrast to the black and white prints, softens the images to create an appealing liquid transience. “352” is suggestive of a chain-link fence, and “357” could be a rendering of a nocturnal lake. Like the other works, Horstman can pre-plan and control their outcomes only to a certain extent. Thus, they are the result of a complex interplay of meticulous folding techniques, chance, and the suggestibility of viewers’ eyes.
