Already, Not Yet, the title of Larry Madrigal’s fourth solo exhibition with Nicodim, is a mantra the artist returned to throughout the creation of this body of work. In Madrigal’s words, "this phrase captures the idea that I currently possess everything I need to flourish within [myself], however, I am still in a process of growing and becoming.” Madrigal is interested in the everchanging, incompleteness of every given moment, while also recognizing how this state of flux can be totally sufficient for personal contentment. As he mentions, “I can simultaneously act in the ‘not yet’ and rest in the ‘already.’”

This frame of mind directly applies to Madrigal’s painting process and subject matter. The works feel concrete, yet forged from dreamlike memories of family life, fatherhood, and the everyday. A kindred spirit to painters like Norman Rockwell, Wayne Thiebaud, Jan Steen, and the pre-Raphaelites, Madrigal lingers in the periphery of the contemporary art world while capturing the imagination of the common person, along with the chaos and intimate details of quotidian life. A product of his environment, a signature of Madrigal’s practice is how he interweaves his immediate surroundings with larger cosmic questions. Playgrounds, children’s birthday parties, small kitchen fires, and the arid Arizona landscape act both as backdrops and main characters, symbolizing how domesticity can shift suddenly from the mundane to the extraordinary.  

A recurring motif in the exhibition, bubbles have become important allegories for Madrigal as representing the transience of life and the ineffable experiences that he feels are increasingly overlooked as he ages. They highlight a contemplative interplay between the artist’s present moment and the inevitable outcomes of growth and the fleeting nature of childhood joy. Madrigal points to the 17th century notion of homo bulla, the Latin phrase meaning “man is a bubble.” In paintings from this period, bubbles were a metaphor for the brevity of existence and vanishing beauty. Rather than reminders of mortality, in works like Left With Only a Glimpse (2023) and Through the Flickering Present (2023), bubbles act as meditations between naivete and cynicism. Seen through the eyes of a child, bubbles uncover our innate proclivities towards things that glow and shimmer, and the simplicity of play comes to the fore.

In contrast to this is a cynicism inherent to parenthood, aging, and suburban life that Madrigal has learned to live with. Dwelling in the tension between these two poles allows the artist to break open existential questions that are familiar to all parents, regardless of context—namely, is it possible to engage in the world with childhood optimism after so much human failure, especially our own? Within the last year in particular, the veil of cynicism has been a wrestling point for Madrigal, and these paintings were a way for him to see his immediate context through a different lens. As a mechanism for survival, and certainly in service to his children, family, and  community, Madrigal dwells in the shimmering, ineffable qualities of existence, knowing that no matter where he chooses to live, he and his family will never be void of awe. A romantic at heart living a practical lifestyle in the suburbs, Madrigal ignites routine elements of daily life like an anthropologist. By doing so in a way that legitimizes our relationship to normalcy and elevating it with an air of sophistication and urgency, Madrigal underscores universal anxieties about parenthood, banality, and the nature of complacency. In his words, “At the end of the day, no matter where I am, I am still in this mysterious, amazing endeavor. So who’s to say that what’s happening thirteen billion lightyears away is any more beautiful than doing the dishes?”