The second installment of the Fjord show “To Fade And Spill Out And (And Look At Another’s Whole)” is hanging in the Frankford Avenue gallery’s exhibition space throughout the month of February. In this part of the curatorial project by Jamie Felton and Zachary Rawe, the focus is that of the figure as opposed to January’s emphasis on pure abstraction. Four artists make up the show: Emily Davidson, Angela Dufresne, Kristina Lee and Matt Morris.

Kristina Lee, “Bandit Returns.” Photo courtesy of Fjord

Partially inspired by the flat, thickly outlined figures prevalent in Modernist painting, Kristina Lee seems to be more interested in the paint and form than in the representation of people or personage. In “The Bandit Returns,” a dark-haired, masked female slips through a cracking yellow background that gives way to a white field. Both theatrical and energetic, the woman proceeds to steal away through the jagged opening, diminishing herself as any thief should. Elsewhere, “Untitled (Like a Prayer)” presents a gesture in the guise of a figure. Swaths of deep purple paint surround an off-white and green plaid area of negative space, which takes on the profile of a grass-skirt-wearing hunchback with narrowed eyes. Here the human form actually appears like an afterthought, as if conceived in the smeared pigments by the artist’s subconscious, and not rendered this way directly.

Kristina Lee, “Untitled (Like a Prayer).”

Emily Davidson’s gestures take on the weight of double meanings by way of both their execution and what they depict. Like curved, neon lights, the bulbous lines twist around one another to replicate human hands bent into symbols of offering and peace. Each hand extends to bear the gift of a flower, traditionally a sign of goodwill or affection. In “Hand in the Window 1,” the upward-facing flower and fingers stand before the boxy setting of attached Philadelphia residential buildings as a pleasant entreaty in the face of cold brick and the accompanying hardships of urban life.

Emily Davidson, “Hand in Window 2” and “Hand in Window 1.”

On the back wall of the gallery, Angela Dufresne covers Nico’s “My Only Child” in a video piece that informs her other painted works. Three half-nude musicians (and a dog) don accoutrements: a staff, ribbons, headgear and an accordion for their wilderness rendition of the tune. As silly as they may look, their harmonies are quite sweet and one longs for the lush green leaves of summer. Her paintings are slightly more grave, however, especially “Winter Song Bird,” which finds an orange figure eerily peering through the branches of a tree. His face is ghastly and his mouth ajar, and he appears naked despite the snow covered ground and icy creek nearby. If he is singing too, then it is for naught since he appears lost and alone. His expression is more one of pain, and he may more than likely be shrieking. Perhaps most distressingly, paintings cannot convey sound, so even his most desperate attempts will remain silent.

Angela Dufresne, “Winter Song Bird.”

Matt Morris includes a gray/green painting demurely titled “mister green,” as well as an appropriated Charles Wilson Peale painting on a postcard. He also set up profiles for Fjord on the gay cruising sites Scruff and Grindr in order to expand the gallery’s autonomous identity and to theoretically increase Fjord’s presence in the area. Figurative only in the sense of contemporary social media, we all curate our online identities professionally and for pleasure, so although there is no traditional image of a person, these pieces are perhaps the most forthcoming in the show. Bizarrely, we see others and are seen even when no one else is present, so by harnessing this power of proxy, Morris creates loose and honest representations in unexpectedly challenging ways.

Fjord will also be hosting an artist discussion with Chicago-based artist Matt Morris facilitated by Suzanne Seesman on Saturday, February 15.

Fjord is located at 2419 Frankford Ave., Philadelphia; [email protected]; fjordspace.com.