
For an artist, few honors are as widely coveted as a solo show. Such presentation allows for a breadth of work that conveys a whole artistic project and offers insights into process and practice, without asking anyone to share the spotlight. Look at any artist’s CV and there’s usually a list of them right up at the top; it’s the section curators or gallerists are most likely to look at to see which institutions have put their weight fully behind the artist’s vision.
But sometimes, two heads are better than one.
The Vermont Supreme Court Gallery is known for its solo shows. Its generous space and high ceilings make it an ideal place to showcase a whole body of work, and that’s usually what the curatorial team chooses to present. But with “Duncan Johnson & Hannah Morris: Planes of Distinction,” on view through December 29, works by the Bellows Falls and Barre artists, respectively, play off each others’ strengths to a degree rarely seen in a two-person show.
Both Johnson and Morris have well-established, distinctive styles. Morris’ figurative mixed-media paintings are narrative, sometimes bordering on illustration in their consistency of voice. Each typically has a lot going on, with many figures clearly doing stuff — but what and why, exactly, is often mysterious. Morris builds her paintings through collage, selecting figures from vintage lifestyle magazines and newspapers primarily for their poses and gestures. She paints over them, melding smaller vignettes and transforming each scene into something totally distinct from its origin.
Johnson’s works are more abstract. His paintings are more properly relief sculptures, mostly made from found and reclaimed pieces of painted wood. Some are inlaid, put together like a parquet floor; others are looser, woven-looking constructions or carefully shaped assemblages. Some of his pieces incorporate photo-transferred images from vintage ads, textbooks or newspapers, but the surface and textures of the material itself are always his primary focus.

Seen apart, a viewer might not notice anything similar about the two artists’ works. But in pairing them, the show emphasizes uncanny resemblances in palette and composition. Morris’ “Stopover,” for instance, shows a scene that could be outside an airport. Odd vehicles — a plane, a tall van — await passengers and luggage. Clusters of people, all with somewhere to be, lift blocky suitcases, wave for a cab, shake hands. Rather than a road, the action takes place on a terra-cotta-red field interrupted by pink squares; a small fence and a few tall, spindly objects cast shadows that reinforce the idea that this is actual ground, rather than background.

Next to “Stopover,” Johnson’s “Quiver” is an arrangement of vertical stripes that practically float and overlap. Red from Morris’ piece has snuck in among the narrow planks; so have yellow and peach from her characters’ outfits and warm grays from the plane and luggage. Johnson has arranged the bits of wood to emphasize the grains and rough-cut surfaces as much as the colors, enticing the eye inward with subtle textures and barring its entry with opaque planks. He has inscribed a diagonal grid in graphite across the picture plane and uses tiny nails along its lines and intersections. The nailheads glint like gems, contrasting with the blackness of the occasional empty knothole. The corners, points, holes and vivid contrasts create clusters of interest that mirror Morris’ assembled travelers.
“The Company Town,” by Morris and Johnson’s “Tartan,” two of the largest works in the show, both use a bold palette of dark blues, yellows, pinks, grays and greens to create a frenetic landscape that the viewer moves through, albeit very differently in each. “Tartan” layers short, narrow, shim-like strips of wood crisscrossed vertically and horizontally, creating a version of the pattern its title suggests. Holes and narrow crevices give the piece an illusion of greater depth than it has. It’s easy to get lost in the details here, to find sparks of color hiding behind one another, bright stripes coming forward, wider pieces falling back.
“The Company Town” is more like a path through an architectural maze. Blocks of buildings surround a lake, but this is no ordinary landscape. Each has its own perspective, its own scale. One is the interior of a bar; another, maybe an old factory; another boasts modern lines. A few people work a sailboat while others wrangle some kind of giant hose. The whole thing reads like a medieval map of a town, showing viewers important locations and activities, moving through both space and time.

Sometimes a simple single element ties two works together. Johnson’s “Snow Fence” is a visually striking piece. It’s a square shadow box, less than an inch deep. Light blue vertical edges define wider spaces, light blue and dark blue paint playing loosely together in their depths. Across the front, several horizontal stripes made from worn white-painted planks read like a farmer’s fence. Movement largely comes from the viewer: The perspective is enhanced as you walk past the piece, as though it’s casting long winter shadows.
Seen apart, a viewer might not notice anything similar about the two artists’ works. But in pairing them, the show emphasizes uncanny resemblances.
A more summery vibe pervades Morris’ “Cruise,” which turns those white planks into the deck of a ship on a blue lake. One person crouches to measure something, as if on a golf green; a seated figure in sunglasses tosses away a scarf or a kite, while two more seem to be surveilling things with binoculars. Though the characters take center stage, their clean, crisp environment — white deck, a field of blue — recalls the bold strength of Johnson’s composition.
Both artists bring unique qualities and a variety of works to the show. Visitors can’t miss Morris’ “The Relaxation Station,” which flaunts her ability to paint the body in a glorious assortment of slightly awkward poses. Nor should they skip Johnson’s “Shell Bay,” which sets minuscule painted squares and rectangles into a wall of angled slats, presenting them almost like a cloud of pixels. Each of these artists has a track record of demonstrated skill and focused vision, and their pieces would stand well enough on their own. But sometimes, artworks play better with a friend. ➆
“Duncan Johnson & Hannah Morris: Planes of Distinction,” on view through December 29 at the Vermont Supreme Court Gallery in Montpelier.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Double Your Fun | A two-person show creates perfect pairings at the Vermont Supreme Court Gallery”
This article appears in November 4 • 2026.

