Speakers in the center of Christopher Lynn’s exhibition at Finch Lane Gallery, with a projection in the rear. Image by Nolan Flynn.

Once confronted with the name “Copper Ouroboros,” many might think of a serpent swallowing its tail, or a never-ending cycle, a symbol of infinity. But for others, copper evokes something different: a utilitarian resource, essential yet often overlooked, a material tied to industry, infrastructure, and, crucially, environmental consequence. Unlike gold, copper is not synonymous with wealth; instead, it is bound to function, to the wires that power our lives, to the extraction processes that scar the earth, and to the toxicity that lingers long after its removal.

This theme is central to Christopher Lynn’s exhibition at Finch Lane Gallery, where his work draws attention to the material’s duality: its indispensability and its cost. Through a combination of paintings, video and sound projections, and material experimentation, Lynn crafts a testimonial that is both poignant and urgent. Rather than depicting the bleak history of industrial exploitation with careless abandon, he treats his subject matter with an almost reverential attention to detail, weaving together a narrative that resonates deeply.

Upon entering the space, we are met with audible gongs—piercing, invasive, and anxiety-inducing. These tones create an ultra-awareness within the gallery, making it impossible to passively observe the work. The sounds reverberate off the walls, colliding with the projected images and paintings, ensuring that the experience is immersive and disorienting. The speakers, or megaphones, mounted on a towering metal pole in the center of the room, serve as a sonic alarm, bouncing through the space and enveloping the viewer in a persistent auditory tension.

Christohper Lynn,” Dead Snow Goose, 3-7-77″

A key aspect of this work is Lynn’s use of copper and sulfuric acid, materials endemic to the Berkeley Pit, a toxic open-pit copper mine in Montana (in addition to similar sites worldwide). In the painting “Dead Snow Goose, 3-7-77,” Lynn employs sulfuric acid and copper oxide, substances both beautiful and corrosive, to illustrate the environmental consequences of unchecked capitalist expansion. The hues in his work, complementary in color, unstable and unprotected, will inevitably fade over time, mirroring the ephemerality of life and the impermanence of history. This impermanence forces viewers into an uncomfortable reckoning with the transient nature of environmental and human suffering, a history that, if left unaddressed, threatens to repeat itself.

The majority of Lynn’s works contain color, yet the palette is subdued, void of warmth or naturalistic beauty. Instead, the colors appear cautionary, and toxic. His use of materiality becomes even more significant when one learns that, for the aural components, he spent days recording the rocks near Butte, Montana, a site marked by industrial pollution and environmental decay. His work raises complex questions about the exploitation of natural resources, the treatment of laborers, and the long-term consequences of capital-driven industrialization.

Lynn’s exhibition extends beyond traditional painting, incorporating images, paintings, sound recordings, and projected visuals that transform the gallery into a space of reflection and unease. Black-and-white projections of the Berkeley Pit’s past are haunting; abstract yet familiar, as though they exist in our collective memory. The Finch Lane Gallery itself becomes part of the experience; its creaking wooden floors heighten awareness of presence and time, while the ambient sounds of rocks and industrial tones, derived from recordings of various minerals, create a disquieting atmosphere. The sensory experience is immersive, making the historical and environmental trauma all the more palpable.

Perhaps most striking is how Lynn intertwines human and ecological narratives. The sorrow of the miners, expressed through protest posters and labor songs like “Aren’t You Wobbly,” echoes across the hopeless ecological superfund site of today. The exhibition raises questions about responsibility and the cost of industrial progress. Through both literal and metaphorical layers, Lynn implores us to consider our own impact: What is our role in perpetuating these cycles of destruction? Can we change course, or are we resigned to watching history dissolve, much like the colors in Lynn’s work, over time?

A projection shows memorabilia and a testimonial about miners from Berkeley Pit mine in Montana. Image by Nolan Flynn.

The haunting beauty of Lynn’s art is its ability to mesmerize even as it disturbs. His projections, eerily hypnotic, compel viewers to keep watching, unable to look away from the catastrophe they depict. The imagery is stark, yet arresting, much like the Dead Snow Goose itself—a graceful form rendered with materials that symbolize the very contamination it suffered.

Lynn’s work does not merely document history; it acts as a warning, a meditation, and a plea. In bringing attention to an ongoing environmental crisis, one that remains a Superfund site to this day, he refuses to let the past be buried. Instead, he forces us to confront the stark reality that these issues persist, urging us to acknowledge the ghosts of industry and the price of negligence. Copper Ouroboros is more than an art show; it is an indictment, a reckoning, and an unflinching gaze into a future shaped by the decisions of the past as well as those to come.

Christopher Lynn’s “Copper Ouroboros” at Finch Lane Gallery. Image by Nolan Flynn.

Christopher Lynn: Copper Ouroboros, Finch Lane Gallery, Salt Lake City, through February 21. Closing Reception: Friday, February 21, 6-9 pm.

Nolan Flynn

Raised in a creative Michigan household, Nolan Patrick Flynn developed an early passion for art. He moved to Utah to pursue an MFA at the University of Utah and continues to create art out of his Salt Lake City studio and teach high school art at Stansbury High School.