Some people see God in everything good in the world. If there is a god, maybe that is true. Who am I to say? But what about the not-so-good shit? Other people refuse to believe in anything beyond themselves. Solipsism has never solved anything, though. I either case, or in any case, how can anyone be so sure of anything?
What I know is what I see, what I feel, what I experience, what I can describe. What I see isn’t truth; it’s what I know. What I feel isn’t fact; it’s what I know. What I experience isn’t everything; it’s what I know. What I can describe isn’t dogma; it’s what I know.
I remember when I used to live in New York City, riding on the subway, seeing those Poetry in Motion posters. And I rarely would read any of the poems on those posters, but I would often think about how poetry is everywhere. It’s on the subway – when a teenager yells, “Showtime” before performing primal dance moves that might involv their Air Jordans getting way too close to your head, that’s poetry. It’s on the sidewalk – when tossed-aside items somehow get inadvertently stacked like a Richard Tuttle sculpture, that’s poetry. It’s in nature – when a pelican swoops into a river and scoop up a fish, that’s poetry. It’s on the television – when Victor Wembanyama does nearl anything on a basketball court, that’s poetry.
Keep your head on a swivel in this world, and I promise you that you will see poetry, whether it be in motion or at a standstill, it truly is everywhere, but it most certainly is not everything. Poetry isn’t always definable; it’s kind of like when, in 1964, Justice Potte Stewart famously said of pornography, “I know it when I see it.” I know poetry, I see poetry, I feel poetry, I experience poetry, I describe poetry. I seek it, I honor it, I cherish it, I love it, I need it.
When I visited Oregon this past May, I found plenty of poetry. This exhibition is a visual poem. In fact, I sort of consider most of my curatorial projects to be visual poems. However, these six artists, individually and collectively, have made me consider form function, and flow in a new way. These six artists each speak their own distinct language, but together, maybe we are speaking something akin to Esperanto, and isn’t that something we all maybe ought to aspire to, regardless of how ambitious and nearl impossible it might seem? Things are bleak right now, and they have been for quite some time, right? But real talk…if there is no god, all we’ve got is us in this life.
– Keith J. Varadi, October 2026
Keith J. Varadi (born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 1985) is an artist, writer, researcher, curator, and gallerist based in Los Angeles, California. He is the Director of Gene’s Dispensary, which he founded in May of 2024. Originally located in Los Angeles’s Westlake neighborhood, the gallery moved to Chinatown in October of 2025. In addition to exhibitions at the gallery’s primary location, Varadi now curates off-site exhibitions and produces events under the Gene’s moniker. The gallery’s roster currently lists Joshua Abelow, Jesse Benson, Merideth Hillbrand, and LeRoy Stevens. Additional artists Gene’s has worked with have included Benjamin Echeverria, Patricia Fernandez, Sophia Le Fraga, Juliana Halpert, Hanna Hur, David Horvitz, Patrick Jackson, Michael Kennedy Costa, Aaron Garber-Maikovska, Maia Ruth Lee, Erin Jane Nelson, Chadwick Rantanen, Paul Sietsema, Naoki Sutter-Shudo, and Andrew Norman WIlson.
As an artist and independent curator, Varadi’s work has been exhibited widely, both nationally and internationally, over the past decade. His writing has been published in Art in America, Contemporary Art Review Los Angeles, Flash Art, Kaleidoscope, LEAP, Spike, and X-TRA. He has released his poetry in both audio and written form. Aside from his work in the art world, he has worked as a researcher for two private investigation firms and for the long-running television game show, Jeopardy!.
Gene’s Presents Modern Language Association, is part of Ditch Projects’ Field Recordings series, and made possible with support from The Ford Family Foundation and The WLS Spencer Foundation.
Modern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldIdo Radon, Weldsender (“World Transmitter” after Isa Genzken) (Radio Alice), Sandcast concrete and hand-carved black walnut, 21.75 x 8.5 x 3 inches, 2024Ido Radon, Weldsender (“World Transmitter” after Isa Genzken) (Free Radio Berkeley 104.1 FM), Sandcast concrete and hand-carved black walnut, 23.5 x 8.75 x 3 inches, 2024Ido Radon, Weldsender (“World Transmitter” after Isa Genzken) (Freak Radio Santa Cruz 101.3 FM), Sandcast concrete and hand-carved black walnut, 23.5 x 8.75 x 3 inches, 2024Modern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldModern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldMarcus Fischer, the temple bell stops but i still hear the sound coming out of the flowers, Four-channel sculptural sound installation, analog tape machines, audio tape, speakers, wire, hemp cord, wood, mirrors, and acorn caps, duration infinite, dimensions variable, 2026Marcus Fischer, the temple bell stops but i still hear the sound coming out of the flowers, Four-channel sculptural sound installation, analog tape machines, audio tape, speakers, wire, hemp cord, wood, mirrors, and acorn caps, duration infinite, dimensions variable, 2026Justin Cole Smith, Spirit Catcher, Archival pigment print, 24.25 x 19.5 inches, 2015Justin Cole Smith, Navel Gazing I, Archival pigment print, 24.25 x 19.5 inches, 2025 (left); Justin Cole Smith, Navel Gazing II, Archival pigment print, 24.25 x 19.5 inches, 2024 (right)Matthew Dickman, Buried Poem, Pine, wood glue, paper, ink, and graphite, 6 x 3 x 1.875 inches, 2026Matthew Dickman, Buried Poem, Pine, wood glue, paper, ink, and graphite, 6 x 3 x 1.875 inches, 2026Modern Language Association, 2026, exhibition view, Ditch Projects, SpringfieldMorgan Ritter, LIFE OF, Chiffon, 102 x 42 inches, 2026Morgan Ritter, LIFE OF, Chiffon, 102 x 42 inches, 2026Morgan Ritter, Mirror, Found acetate mirror, concrete, found stones, and pearls, 6 x 8.5 inches, 2024Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Morgan Ritter, Old Telephone, Ceramic, wood stool by Nicholas Van Eyck, and found river rock, 13.5 x 11.5 x 12 inches, 2012-2026Noah Greene, untitled, Oil paint, drought, and polyethylene on canvas, 34 x 11 inches, 2024-2025Noah Greene, untitled, Oil paint, drought, and polyethylene on canvas, 34 x 11 inches, 2024-2025Noah Greene, untitled, House paint on canvas, 12 x 24 inches, 2024Noah Greene, untitled, House paint on canvas, 12 x 24 inches, 2024Noah Greene, untitled, Rosin paper, polyethylene over oil paint on canvas, 10 x 31.25 inches, 2025Noah Greene, untitled, Polyethylene, glassine, linen fragment, and oil paint on canvas, 20.75 x 10 inches, 2025Noah Greene, untitled, Oil paint, sumi ink, rain, and drought on canvas, 80 x 6 inches, 2025-2026Noah Greene, untitled, Oil paint, sumi ink, rain, and drought on canvas, 80 x 6 inches, 2025-2026Noah Greene, untitled, Sumi ink and oil paint on canvas, 8 x 47.5 inches, 2024Noah Greene, untitled, Sumi ink and oil paint on canvas, 8 x 47.5 inches, 2024Noah Greene, untitled, Sumi ink and oil paint on canvas, 19 x 7.25 inches, 2025Noah Greene, untitled, Sumi ink and oil paint on canvas, 19 x 7.25 inches, 2025
Photos: courtesy of the artists, Ditch Projects, Springfield and Gene’s Dispensary, Los Angeles