What does it mean to inhabit a space that was never meant to hold you?

What kinds of images emerge when fragments insist on being whole?

In Sorry for Interrupting, Jacques Vartabedian constructs a painted ecology of ruptures. Spaces where clouds are breached by gardens, and plants that do not coexist are made to share ground. Across two rooms, the exhibition unfolds in contradiction: large-scale scenes are interrupted by one another, while smaller works attempt to cluster, communicate, or simply hold their shape in solitude.

This fictional ecology defies botanical logic, staging improbable forms of coexistence. What emerges is not a harmonious whole, but a landscape shaped by displacement, by adaptation, and by the quiet persistence of things out of place.

The show explores how interruption can be a method of seeing. One painting cuts into another. A flower appears alone, yet not entirely isolated. Nothing remains uninterrupted; and that, perhaps, is the point.

Rooted in quiet tensions between natural order and invented logic, the work raises broader questions. Can ecological fictions reveal emotional truths? What do we inherit when we inherit fragmentation? Can a painting hold multiple incompatible realities at once?

Drawing from  poetics of memory, botanical dislocation, and architectural rhythm, Vartabedian uses the traditional medium of painting to build a system that constantly undoes itself. Referencing thinkers such as Gaston Bachelard and Anna Tsing, the exhibition resists cohesion in favor of relation. Each work is a refusal to resolve, inviting the viewer to pause, move, and look again.