Manfred Pernice at The Modern Institute

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Of course cans, as named, invoke emptiness (a filled cans would be called by what they contain, a soda, sardines, refried beans) but, clean, the possibility for containment, the ability to can, canning, the process for preserving, pickling,  a funny metaphor for the preservation of an artist's hand severed from them, held in brine, they look green through the glass museums place to frame them, objects which maintain the objects, pickled. Artists willingly put their objects in such canisters, even the most ephemeral are given some package tradeable, they are the bridge between two hands shaking. If it wasn't, at least in some way transmissible, tranistable, it would be broken.


See too: Manfred Pernice at Kunstmuseum St. Gallen, Manfred Pernice at Galerie Neu

Past: Manfred Pernice

"Concern for the sculptural erection, height and constitution, of which Pernice so at pains to make apparent, the stacking as its major form of construction, complete upon attainment of a height passable for sculpture. [...] denote an empathetic shyness, a slovenliness evocative of the depressed's care for self-comfort. Construction, for Pernice, is made like a complaint, the decisions heavy and won."



Click here for Manfred Pernice at Kunstmuseum St. Gallen
Click here for Manfred Pernice at Galerie Neu

AR: Puppies Puppies at BFA Boatos

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Originally Posted: February 28th, 2017

Note: This entry is part of August Review, our annual look back at this season’s key exhibitions. For more information, see the announcement here.

“From the Collection – Verlust der Mitte” at S.M.A.K.

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This is what August should look like. Sprawling massive inanity that trades one mess, polite objects arranged like dead butterflies so hammeringly common for instead the mess of Buchel's opened vacuum bag nightmares. You don't have to spray the bags contents everywhere, it's an obvious allergen hazard, but galleries could sure find a better way to arrange the dust they've pulled from beneath storage floorboards each summer the remnants of every spring cleaning, from the collection.


See too: “Sputterances” at Metro Pictures, August Slog, Third Annual August Review

AR: Black Cherokee at ROOM EAST

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Originally Posted: February 28th, 2017

Note: This entry is part of August Review, our annual look back at this season’s key exhibitions. For more information, see the announcement here.

Alivia Zivich at MOCAD

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The well connected gallerist, the illuminated object, look at it. The billboard carries the expectation its delivery, information, something, and instead the Rorshach blot returning nothing but yourself. What do you see? Do you see two men, clubs raised, about to do berate a small fondling, locking eyes frozen, petrified by the gaze of another, or Gellar? It doesn't matter, the important part is returning the issue of subject matter to you. The celebrity like the blot is a construct of the viewer, a bland bag allowed to pour desires into. Like Warhol's own blots, Carpenter's Cobain, the important part is you lay on the couch provided and tell me about it.


see too: Merlin Carpenter at Overduin & Co

AR: Anna Ostoya at Silberkuppe

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Originally Posted: November 2nd, 2017

Note: This entry is part of August Review, our annual look back at this season’s key exhibitions. For more information, see the announcement here.