Some people find throwing paint-filled water balloons on giant swaths of canvas in the middle of College Walk to be cathartic. Others seek to relieve tension by visiting galleries and getting lost in the art. The Postcrypt Art Gallery’s final exhibition of the year, “CATHARSIS,” offers both options.

The show proves that the artist’s process of emotional cleansing does not necessarily translate into an equally calming experience for the viewer. Expecting to feel emotional relief walking through the exhibit, I was pleasantly caught off guard when confronted with a room full of artwork that presented an unrestrained emotional outpouring.

“‘CATHARSIS’ is a coming together of raw, individualized expression,” said Postcrypt curator Ian Kwok, CC ’11 and Spectator deputy photo editor. “It is meant to be an experience in itself, actively engaging the viewer and unifying our personal interpretations through art.” In one small, poorly lit room in the basement of St. Paul’s Chapel, 20 student artists bring together painting, sculpture, sketching, photography, and laptop screen savers to reflect on a theme that Kwok himself admitted is “general but unified.”

“CATHARSIS” is about the artist, not the viewer—the process of physically viewing the exhibit is anything but cathartic. Advertised as open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. daily, I arrived at St. Paul’s Chapel promptly at 11:45 a.m. Kwok met me outside of the chapel and informed me that the building manager was nowhere to be found. After waiting for 30 minutes and asking various Columbia employees to open the room, the building manager—fruit salad and lemonade in hand—sauntered in and opened the basement Guastavino Lounge. We were informed shortly after entering that the room had to be locked up again within the next 40 minutes.

Promising to showcase each artist who submitted a piece, Postcrypt somehow managed to make images of ballroom dancing, subways in motion, cartoons, a rally for Tibet, graffiti in Harlem, Times Square, and lipstick cohesive. From paint-covered garments hung high to a stream of photos exploding off the wall and onto the floor, “CATHARSIS” is literally all over the place. Walking in, the viewer is confronted with two giant color-splashed canvases, two theater curtains permeating outward on the floor.
In the middle is a mounted abstract canvas, representing the stage of this cathartic experience. Students and passersby painted the colorful canvases on College Walk with water balloons and paint sprays on Saturday, April 19.
Kwok said he felt he felt a sense of catharsis by employing creative curatorial methods.
A nude drawing was hung at a slant, while a sketch of a mother was flipped upside-down adjacent to her traditionally upright daughter. The way in which the nontraditional presentation of these sketches provided catharsis remains unclear—indeed, in a show with such a personal theme, relevance is subjective.

Some pieces purposely exude ambiguity, like a protest signboard simply stating “Sex.” Others, like small black and white cartoons and doodles, need no explanation as to their calming nature. Rounding the last corner, Jenny Lam’s poignant painting of a girl in the act of breaking free, her face and neck actually crumbling, ends the exhibit on a strong, reflective note.

Grabbing my bag to leave, I noticed a small sculpture on the floor that I had missed before, as it had been overshadowed by the adjacent giant curtains. Simple yet brilliant, the first plate holds a tube of red lipstick and a sign that reads “before.” The second plate also holds a tube of red lipstick, flipped over and crushed behind a sign stating “after”. Talk about “CATHARSIS.”