Sunday, October 28, 2018

“The Myriad Forms of Visual Art” at The National Museum of Art, Osaka


The strangeness of documentation that doesn't conform to the crystalline white of lighting. Everything looks primeval, like what we imagine museums at night, occult spaces of objects left to do what objects do when no ones looking. The museum seems closed, set in a forest. A warmth we usually enact through instagram filters or rose tinted glass. Like its the 90s. Covered in nostalgia. Now everything looks like porn, bleached and depilated.