Sacred and Profane
- artandcakela
- Jun 30
- 4 min read
By Kristine Schomaker Wendy Lee Gadzuk finds treasure in burn piles. Her current show Love Languages at La Luz de Jesus Gallery emerged partly from digging through ash and rubble next to the Buddhist monastery where she works as a caregiver. The adjoining property had been a trophy factory before a fire, and Wendy couldn't believe what she was pulling out of the debris—winged metal figures, rolls of ribbon, rusty nails, speaker innards, decaying shelf brackets she transformed into Gothic arches.
"It was already 'relic-ed,' if that's a word," she writes about the materials that became central to several pieces in the show. The accidental aging process had done half the work for her.
Love Languages presents eight pieces—five wall-hanging works and three sculptural memory jugs based on ancient African folk art traditions. Everything is altar-like, which makes sense given Wendy's lifelong attraction to shrines and religious iconography despite not being raised religiously. "Almost everything I create is symmetrical," she notes. "Imperfectly symmetrical, just like us."
The title came from throwing words around with her partner about pieces like "Guest Speaker," "Love is the Law, Love Under Will," and "Secrets of the Heart." The theme developed organically. "The word 'speaker' leads to language, and love is something that we all need, especially right now," Wendy explains. Her partner suggested Love Languages and it clicked immediately. "The act of creating is a type of love language, and that is something I feel is important to share right now, as much as possible."
As an assemblage artist, Wendy uses whatever she can find, drawn particularly to juxtapositions between aged, rusty metal and wood paired with something precious—gold leaf, vintage jewelry, silk velvet. Hard and soft. Sacred and profane. The contrast creates tension that gives her work its emotional charge.
The memory jugs represent new territory for her. Inspired by altar artist Laurie Beth Zuckerman's work and historical research, Wendy learned that these vessels were often made to honor someone who had passed, with keepsake items embedded in putty on the outside of bottles or jugs. Sometimes called "ugly jugs" because they were crude, made by children, prioritizing spirit over technique.
Wendy bought window putty, covered bottles, and "just went to town," embellishing them with costume jewelry, hardware, bones, beads, small bottles and tins. After embedding pieces in putty, she applies stain to create weathered, aged surfaces. The process proved addictive. "I pretty much fell in love with the process and look forward to doing more."
One piece became unexpectedly personal. "And I'll Be Waiting Here For You With Open Arms" started without specific intention but evolved into an homage to her paternal grandmother, Anne Yacos Gadzuk, an early influence on Wendy's love of making things. The lace hearts hanging from nails in the center nod to her grandmother's crocheting. The nails mimic knitting needles more than crochet hooks, but symmetry won out over literal accuracy.
Wendy's process involves what she calls "sketching"—but not on paper. She lays out objects, tweaking until they feel harmonious. Once the visual concept clicks, she figures out construction, which often proves challenging. Ideas remain fluid through many transformations she calls "tiny deaths." "Lots of ideas have to die for the final piece to shine through."
Sometimes catalyst materials don't make the final cut. Three glass toppers inspired the memory jugs, but once she started building, the toppers no longer worked. They served their purpose as starting points, waiting for their next incarnation.
The exhibition opportunity came through cosmic timing. Wendy had participated in group shows at La Luz de Jesus for ten years but never as a featured artist. When her friend Alea Bone mentioned that the planned back room artists didn't have quite enough work, curator Bernadette needed one more artist. Alea suggested Wendy's name and suddenly she was in. Perfect synchronicity, especially since Alea and Wendy met at the gallery nine years ago at a group show.
Wendy talks to her pieces while making them, asking what they want next. "Guest Speaker" particularly demanded ongoing dialogue. "I would vocalize that he has a lot of things to say about the state of the world right now," she writes. If she could have a full conversation with that piece, she'd want to know exactly what those things are. "I bet he has answers!"
Her central theme involves creating order from chaos, both literally and metaphorically. "We manifest something new and novel out of things that are humble in origin and elevate them into a kind of visual poetry." She treats all materials—from medical waste to trophy factory debris—with equal reverence, embodying respect regardless of origin.
The memory jug process offers a different mindset than her wall pieces. Less problem-solving about attachment and layering, more meditative intuition. "I'm just sticking objects into putty, creating shapes and worlds with one simple act." She's interested in incorporating this approach into larger wall works, using embellished pieces as elements in more complex compositions.
Wendy hopes viewers create their own experiences with the work rather than following prescribed narratives. "Oftentimes what someone sees in a piece is a reflection of themselves and their own cumulative experiences, more so than what the artist's intention may have been." The pieces become mirrors, which she finds more interesting than creating specific storylines.
Her ten-year-ago self would be blown away by this opportunity, overwhelmed by the workspace she has now and the sheer volume of materials she's collected over the years. Skills have refined, but the core impulse remains constant—the alchemical act of directing energy in positive directions with tangible results.
Looking ahead, Wendy's creating smaller pieces for the Highway 62 Art Tours in October and working on a book project with her partner about his near-death experience with sepsis and the art they created as a result. Creation never stops sparking new ideas. "It never ends!"
Love Languages runs through July 6 at La Luz de Jesus Gallery, 4633 Hollywood Blvd, Los Feliz.
