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ARTS & COLLECTIBLES

REPETITION AS RITUAL

Leo Marmol’s Recurrence reflects a meditative return to form and process, using the circle as a quiet, persistent gesture through which repetition becomes meaning, memory, and artistic resolve.

KENDRA LOCK

Leo Marmol’s Recurrence, 2025, Oil and cold wax on board, 36” x 36”

Recurrence, 2025, Oil and cold wax on board, 36” x 36”

 

In his recently concluded exhibition Recurrence, award-winning architect, artist and tastemaker Leo Marmol did not just present a series of paintings. He offered a philosophy, rendered in wax, pigment, and gesture. The show, curated by Art Seen and staged at Chuck Arnoldi’s Venice studio, brought Marmol back to his creative beginnings in a literal and symbolic way. The studio sits just blocks from where he first lived after arriving in Los Angeles, and the exhibition felt like a deliberate circle in itself, returning to a place of origin in order to begin again.


At the core of this new body of work is a singular, ancient form, the circle. And yet, in Marmol’s hands, it is anything but simple. “A circle appears simple,” he reflects, “but it’s one of the few marks I can make that still feels infinite.” This is not poetic posturing. It is the lived experience of an artist who treats repetition as both meditation and measurement. Each canvas becomes a record of the body in motion, the arm sweeping from a center point, the quiet insistence of a gesture performed again and again until it dissolves into meaning.


The palette in Recurrence is restrained, as if speaking in hushed tones. Soft blacks, muted earths, and the occasional flush of red dominate the surfaces. Created with oil and cold wax, the works are built up and pared back, revealing labor and intention beneath their calm exteriors. Some paintings feel geological, recalling wind scraped desert stones. Others are tender and nearly weightless, suggesting memory more than matter. And always, the circle returns. Sometimes it hides in plain sight. Other times it asserts itself with solemn clarity.

Leo Marmol’s From the Sky, 24” x 24”

From the Sky, 24” x 24”

Leo Marmol in Studio

 

For those familiar with Marmol’s earlier landscape paintings shaped by California’s shifting light, Recurrence marks a pivot inward. The landscapes are now interior, mapped through thought, ritual, and repetition. Yet the tactile language remains consistent. There is still a strong sense of material and place. The wax carries the drag of sand. Scraped lines evoke erosion, weather, and human passage. The work is grounded and quiet.


And yet, for all its stillness, Recurrence hums with energy. Something deeply personal unfolds here, not through biography, but through rhythm. Marmol is not searching for answers. He is repeating the question. Again and again, like a mantra. Understanding, he seems to suggest, is not a destination, but a willingness to return.

Leo Marmol’s Lost the Light (I)
Leo Marmol’s Lost the Light (II)
Leo Marmol’s Lost the Light (III)

FROM LEFT: Lost the Light (I), Lost the Light (II), Lost the Light (III), 48” x 36”

Leo Marmol’s Recurrence

Resonance, 2025,
Oil and cold wax on board, 36” x 36”

Leo Marmol’s Recurrence

Continuance I
Oil and cold wax on board, 36” x 36”

 

The exhibition also renewed Marmol’s creative dialogue with Chuck Arnoldi, a friendship that deepened through past collaborations and shared exhibitions. That lineage, artist to artist, adds another layer to the title. Recurrence becomes not only the repetition of form, but of conversation, memory, and influence.


In a cultural moment obsessed with novelty, Marmol’s work dares to be slow, cyclical, and reverent. The result is quietly profound. These paintings do not clamor for attention. They ask you to stay. To look again. To begin once more.


Because sometimes, the most radical act is simply to return with intention.

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