Taking Stock of Surprising Overflows
In (Waiting for the Thunder) What Have You in the House? Lyndon Maglalang invites viewers into a quiet space of anticipation, reflection, and faith. The exhibition draws inspiration from the biblical account in 2 Kings 4:1–7, where a widow is asked to take stock of what little she has at home, and in that moment of honest inventory, a miracle begins. Maglalang channels this same sentiment: breakthroughs often begin with what’s already there—be it jars, lamps, wire scraps, or one’s private thoughts.
The show is anchored by one large-scale work, supported by a constellation of smaller pieces, all guided by the artist’s mastery of restraint and clever use of color and form. This sensibility traces back to his childhood, when he crafted toys from found materials. That same spirit of resourcefulness informs his current practice: old book covers are repurposed as painted surfaces, not as pages of predetermined stories, but as open grounds for discovery. Each work becomes a quiet parable waiting to be read. Several pieces of dried and shaped acrylic paint appear as layers to the flat planes of the paintings, introducing an additional dimension. The biggest piece stands out with coiled and hand-twisted galvanized wire—an evocative tangle of thoughts caught in discernment. They inhabit an intimate, minimal interior composed of a single table, a chair, framed art, and shadows, creating a scenario that feels both symbolic and deeply personal.
Maglalang’s use of humble, everyday objects drawn from domestic life becomes an act of spiritual inventory. He takes stock not only of things but also of the self, its doubts, prayers, and longings. Like the prophet Elijah moving among jars in the homes of his community, the artist reveals what we often miss: value already surrounds us. And often, that value is not meant for display. It’s in private spaces—physical or mental—where the smallest and most profound miracles can take root.
His works resist the pull of a digital world saturated with noise, spectacle, and performance. They speak in stillness, offering no disclaimers, no “work-in-progress” labels. Each piece is a product of process, faith, and surrender, refined like gold through difficulty and shaped by the hand of the Maker. Some have the presence of stone but offer a surprising lightness and grace. Many are placed atop tables—surfaces rich with symbolic meaning: fellowship, provision, covenant, and both earthly and spiritual nourishment. In Maglalang’s hands, the table becomes a space for gathering objects and holding stillness, a site for contemplation.
There are even moments of quiet wonder: paint that appears to levitate, liquids frozen mid-pour, blessings caught in motion, abundantly overflowing far beyond what was thought sufficient. Light sources, surprisingly numerous within the confines of a single piece, suggest insight and illumination even in life’s more shadowed corners.
Rooted in scripture, literature, and spiritual reflection, this collection offers viewers an invitation to consider the unseen, to listen to the unspoken, and to believe in the possibility of grace. Maglalang reminds us that what is visible is only part of the story. The thunder, after all, gathers just beyond sight, and this process is not a passive waiting. It is a watchful, ever-hopeful belief that something is about to break through. And when it does, you’ll know it began with what was already in the house.
(Text by Kaye O’Yek)
