Friday, July 19, 2019

Past: Amelie von Wulffen

"...the history of painting is a trauma that comes bruising into von Wulfenn's paintings. How images transact through time...   We have memory of how painting was, how impressionism was painted, but it's wrong, like your head full of hangover, a painting full of malfunction, its shipment through time arrives damaged."


Thursday, July 18, 2019

Jacob Kassay at von ammon co


(link)

Technologic performance, installation awkwardness, actual dance etc., it's an increasing strategy to imbue art commodities with some sort of gesticulated spell called aura, symbolical capital, etc. "An action to the conjure the documentation." Which then the documentation won't document too closely.
Now if these paintings come sold with the flickering light and are only art designated "artworks" when installed with such, can't be brought from under them at the end of the exhibition, then color us wrong and this is funny. But doubtful, the installation has becomes the means of lifestyle branding, advertising.


See too: “Seven Reeds” at Overduin & Co.Quarterly: Ei Arakawa

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Lisa Holzer at Kunstverein München


(link)
"The resulting images at once mock and celebrate legacies of abstract painting while also teasing cliches and the expectations related to the photographic medium itself. With humor and critical wit, her practice addresses conditions of labor, exposure, visibility, and power confronting artists, artworks, and the art system itself."
We're going to just cross out the second sentence.
You know what the market has shown every collector wants walled? Abstraction, and so art has become a giant machine mining sources of abstraction. And the endless ironizing of abstract legacies with its remaking in different modes (fire extinguisher, silvering, abjection, food photography) ostensibly acts as critique. Pollock was just spurting cum, symbolically accredited decoration, abjection whatever; the critique fails to, despite 40 years of it, functionally do anything. It's like battling a ghost with a longsword. Abstraction is the inkblot that acts like silver, that acts like mirrors, to place whatever you want to see in it. And we keep digging mirrors.

There's a cake and eat it too joke somewhere in here.

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Shana Sharp at Nicelle Beauchene


(link)

Happening at Chris Sharp's Lulu was quaint, perhaps charming, endearing. It's a lovely gift, to give your mother an international art career. This feels different. Beauchene does actually show other artists besides Lulu family, they just rarely show up on CAD (4 in 5? (depends how you count)). So the layers here are complicated, enlarged by our magnifying glass to show this one texture. And charges of nepotism would of course be met with all other, more closeted, forms of nepotism that pretty much structure the art world. Transparency could feel like fresh air. Instead this weird magnifying glass.

Monday, July 15, 2019

Amy Sillman at The Arts Club of Chicago


(link)

Maybe Sillman's paintings are uglycute in the way fetuses are ugly, there's not enough drawing to hold the shape nor body to give it viscera, which is why they have that newborn quality of looking like pink pencil erasers more than human, painting and fetus both. A confusion of painting and drawing (within painting specifically, the processes distinct from their materials we could say) that give them that uncanny modern nubility. Abject, sure. About to realize some full state if never completing it, the continual caroming off reaching full maturity.
Past: Amy Sillman

"A tragic affair collectors seek "signature" pieces, [...] requiring the artist already having a signature and thus emptied of its origination, adolescence, nubility and becoming etc, that Sillmans work, generally, seems about... "

"Sillman's painting too curdle representation, bodies."


Amy Sillman at Sikkema Jenkins, Amy Sillman at Kunsthaus Bregenz

Past: Will Benedict


"Thinking of Benedict like a gothicly depressed Baldessari is helpful."


Will Benedict at Gio Marconi, Will Benedict at Overduin & Co., Will Benedict at Bortolami

Sunday, July 14, 2019

Jörg Heiser:      Do you think there is anything ‘polemical’ left in referentiality today?

Willem de Rooij:     Rather the opposite. It has become a completely mainstream convention. I’m amazed by the flood of art pieces I’ve seen lately that consist of a photograph of a book that the artist finds interesting. Or a book in a showcase. Or sculptures that consist of a bookshelf on the wall with a number of books on it. Or a photo of a bookshelf. Or a photo of a book in a showcase. These books might be interesting, but the photos and sculptures are usually not. I find it so unfair to art that the form of the work gets ignored in that way.


Past: David Lieske

"Lieske was of the first of the cargo cults reassembling the totems of meaning in the desert of it, picking detritus. The issue was resolved not by necessarily by making objects mean again - which they couldn't - it's hard to make an empty bottle mean in arid land - but by situating objects so that they connoted meaning despite whatever inscrutable blankness. Like hieroglyphs. What was important was exuding the affect of meaning, regardless of whether there was any and that it didn't matter anyway was what we were all beginning to pick up on and what the commercial world had known for decades (that you can create "meaning" at will with attitude, aura) which while Lieske pondering whether this was a problem was suddenly flooded and drown by more ephebic artists already having decided for him it wasn't and now this is the water we live in, a flooded terrain of objects imbued, over-saturated "meaning."

"If so much art looks like Broodthaers today, it is because Broodthaers was of the first invested in the arrangements of display as a credence to meaning, institutional or otherwise."

"An ambivalence at the heart of much of art today displayed as presentations of objects left to the viewer with a "deal with it" coolness, figurative sunglasses donned."


Click to read full: David Lieske at MUMOKDavid Lieske at Lovaas Projects

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Josef Strau at Francesca Pia


(link)

These are much uglier, which is an improvement I suppose. And Straus's text begins with an almost apology for the exhibition, which is reminds of how endeared we all were to artists failing ten years ago. The "I prefer not to." or Manfred Pernice's ongoing struggle to get erect. or The performed hesitance in every painting made. Remember that time? But then Strau's text turns it around.  Attempts to incant and imbue some earnestness into the enterprise. Calls it Sutering, or the process of invoking something earnest, Vivian Suter, meaning, into the paintings. Remember the wacky wild inflatable arm men who danced in front of their paintings to imbue some some [criticality] into bland abstractions?  This is like that, hunched over its making and saying a prayer.

A hail mary pass to capture, touch down, on some meaning.


See too: Josef Strau at House of Gaga (2)Josef Strau at House of Gaga
Past: Josef Strau

"The way butterflies seem garish and unnecessary to a world and inspire our wrath so children crush them and artists crush them against canvas, looking for ways to bejewel our production, steel it against the unpleasant taste of mouths eating coin. They're fine in that way of pleasantness, pinnacle of subservience that is the crux of high dollar abstraction, submission to their surroundings by letting it walk all over them."

"Strau’s concurrent rise with the hegemony of the art's image (say, CAD) makes a sense. Strau attaching text to image, delaying reception by giving words to its arrival at the moment it made it consumable without giving it away. This was huge."


Full: Josef Strau at House of Gaga (2)
Full: Josef Strau at House of Gaga

Friday, July 12, 2019

Anthony Pearson at Marianne Boesky


(link)

A lot of art makes the process of getting paint onto the canvas itself the problem of art. Going back to Stella's auto-flex on the canvas, an excuse for the painting. Reason without reason. Simply was. Which was the point then, but however many decades later we suddenly had "process orientated abstraction" whose own tautological reasoning spread infectiously as a means to manufacture object meaning. Pearson - who has been around longer than the process dead - has been inventing all sorts of means to get art to semi-auto-materialize. The "paint" here is poured and peeled, and the others grated with rococo lines, etc. So what you see is what you see, a process in getting the materials to self-expose. But the image is beside the point, the point is simply materialization, sediment something that is elegant, pretty, capable of walls.

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Gerrit Frohne Brinkmann at Noah Klink


(link)

interest in primitive subjects (cave walls and prehistoric flora) as well as Hollywood staging finds its waypoint in the cardboard mockup's DIY version, not tricking anyone. But the gesture towards mimesis is there. It's low grade magic, like cave paintings once were, premised on the same belief of movie suspension. These and their smells (there's smells) aren't suspending disbelief, their stupidness is there to provides that distance. (To say one of those annoying things art writers tend to say:) they're more to do with our desire to be tricked, playing our fascination with the machines of verisimilitude, creation. Perhaps easier to believe in magic when it's primitive: an iphone is not magic but a rock certainly is.
Past: Maggie Lee

"coolness is an affect and the point attempted to be made was that adopting these strictures to see the subject express through the grate of social coding was its pathos. Did everyone then just think they were cool then? The loss of self to the adoption of vernaculars. [...] the grate through which we express self [...] self-expression immediately confronted with the terror of self-consciousness. 'Gigi is me in 2006.' A teenage self-conciousness..."

"The bedroom as terrarium, the girl as experiment."


Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Susan Te Kahurangi King at Robert Heald


(link)

A sort of exquisiteness, corpse of culture kaleidoscopic. Things rearranged in a twirl. Liquid, like images turned back to ink and spun.

Monday, July 8, 2019

Kathryn Andrews at KÖNIG GALERIE


(link)

The postmodern philosopher said America needed Disneyland to prove the rest the country isn't already. The world already feels like a cartoon, making one within it feels redundant, painfully. Maybe the best thing about Andrews is that, like John Miller or Armleder the work is as off-putting as the culture it draws from is. We just need to admit the pain, that this isn't fun.

Sunday, July 7, 2019

Amalia Ulman at The Gallery at El Centro


(link)

From the first lightning bolts of Cindy Sherman's Untitled Film Stills: the artworld continuously electrified by depictions of women in societal bondage gear. Artists depicting the strictures that force women to conform to cultural mores; images of women made, if only momentarily, powerless or complicit, which whose artistic doubling, or performance of, is the critique. (And as these mores and roles mutate in time so too the art updates alongside the new chain.) And despite the critical intention's now obvious powerlessness to successfully confront or diminish such roles - as evidenced by its 40 years of continuous updating and still ringing true - Sherman et al. enjoy success in the market, press, and critical etceteras. (Successful critique would ostensibly outmode itself to that culture?) A success slightly ominous in comparison to the seeming lack of success of practices and images depicting women that oppose dominant hierarchies or act to provide fertile turf outside it, say A.L. Steiner or . A culture, say a magazine or a museum, that can purchase an absolution to the images it wants through an art that gesticulates critique. But that its success is simply a culture that likes seeing - culturally approved - women in bondage.

Saturday, July 6, 2019

Dena Yago at High Art


(link)

"the ancient ritual of making an object of basic utility for the purposes of transparent exchange begins to promise relief. The commodity in itself offers a level of commercial purity that feels, to some, less complicit or exhausting than the highly mannered and baroque tapestry of brand narratives and leveraged networks on which creating and exhibiting even traditional forms of contemporary art—like paintings, sculptures, or photography—have come to rely. "
https://www.e-flux.com/journal/82/133913/on-ketamine-and-added-value/


Friday, July 5, 2019

Group Show at The Kitchen Aufderhoehe


(link)

"...the ubiquity of installation views today (over the very obsolete taste for images of the paintings cropped of which here there are presented none) merely today's fashion, or is it a use of its authority. ..the empty whiteness surrounding paintings today is the latent frame replacing yesteryear gilt. Instead white walls wreathing its images in the symbolic wealth of hundreds of dollars per square foot of galleries, or museums. Gold leaf is redundant to white walls..."

"[but] in fact sited documentation seems to be on the rise, and emphasized to dramatic effect, highlighting the gallery’s architectural ticks, absurdly so. That Berlin’s Tanya Leighton gallery, of which Sanchez highlights, despite performing the neutral painted grey floors and glowing white walls, is one of the more architecturally memorable galleries. All around images of the object’s site, the installation shot, generally outnumber if not replace entirely the image of the object, even to the detriment of understanding the object. The site as the producer of the art object’s “aura” was established in different way by Boris Groys take on Benjaminian aura in “Art in the Age of Biopolitics” in referring to documentations (in terms of artifacts of conceptual art) need for the site.
" The surrealist vernacular of most contemporary is predicated on this aura for its totems, its mysterioizing, its unknowability, this distance between the object and the viewer. Sontag: "Distance seems built into the very experience of looking at photographs..."

"a fear of vertigo of a white space sent into hyperspace the gallery-space will need to self-locate, architecture will appear as a watermark to keep one foot on the ground avoiding the spins tumbling through non-space."


See too: Brian Calvin at Le ConsortiumSophie Nys at Crac AlsaceZoe Nelson at JDJCAD

Yngve Holen at Modern Art


(link)

Commodities made permanent. Are we to put some social science program toward this? some anthropology towards bronzed culture. The PR seems to think so: "one of the questions posed [...] is, what kind of concepts are introduced to the developing brains of children, and in what way does this guide their understanding of the world around them?" Art becomes (has become) a process for turning culture into artifacts of that culture, sediments of it, wiped across paintings and assemblaged in sculpture, like flypaper art collecting the carcass of. Preloaded with content for walltexts or children's television. Collectible too.
If the dominance of mass culture includes threat to diminish art that we could call castration, then art's turning that culture into a fetish item is classic Freud: "a token of triumph over the threat of castration and a protection against it." You can't cut off what I own of yours.


See too: Yngve Holen at Fine Arts, SydneyYngve Holen at Kunsthalle BaselYngve Holen at Modern ArtDavid Lieske at MUMOK,

Thursday, July 4, 2019

Past: Yngve Holen

"Looking for the ghost in the machine we instead find the designer. We treat objects as if they are magic, we acting like a cargo cult, arranging the droppings of the industrial gods like paganists worshipping more technically advanced nations. We place their refuse in our altars. Objects are designed to affect us, strangely adept at it, advertising like a massive psychologic program and objects are the sediment of its energies. But despite every attempt to make technical objects sympathetic to us, they are unfortunately cold and this is difficult for us."

"That terrible emptiness of objects, an indifference that hurts, and in Holen and other's objects we begin to see boogeymen that we assume must be there to fill the cold object with anything but an desolation. We exceed at inventing gods where there are none. What is behind it is only us. It is obvious at this point that objects we design are reflections of us, this is how the field of anthropology operates. We are designers or our world, of our water coolers cut in half in attempts to find its ghost. There is only us standing around it attempting the small talk of art writing."

"These insectile eyes we recognize is an anthropomorphism softening the blow of cold dead indifference."


Read full: Yngve Holen at Fine Arts, SydneyYngve Holen at Kunsthalle BaselYngve Holen at Modern ArtDavid Lieske at MUMOK,

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Jay Chung & Q Takeki Maeda at Koelnischer Kunstverein


(link)

It's important to note the artists' strategies in mise-en-scene. These photos tell you nothing, give you no information but they connote an affect, one of literal and metaphorical velvet ropes. What, after all, is this photograph of? Of the air, in the impressionist sense. That emptiness they love. Cold like sharks. It'd be something if the artists didn't have at least some hand in the documentation. Or maybe there is just that much air. Like John Knight, the strategies of withholding generate power. In forests we imagine predators, in confusion invent gods, or artists.


See too: John Knight at Greene NaftaliYngve Holen at Kunsthalle Basel
Past: Jay Chung and Q Takeki Maeda

"In the smoke of Matias Faldbakken's rocketship ascendancy the artworld was left blind scrambling to adhere a politic for it, to make a critical foundation for the artworld's hot new power iconography, unable to accept that how it looked, rather than any little content it contained, was its appeal." "Issues of interest for Jay Chung and Q Takeki Maeda, artists for whom the making compositions of all but a few remains generated an enormous look of power."

"Artists continually forcing a reading between the lines they force distinctly apart. So that the blank white space feels ominous and full, like a detective novel, figure it out, Jay Chung & Q Takeki Maeda adept at objects in aura of evidence or clues. Bits of knowledge that are brought up in the PR, starting with the failure of the cult to deliver its prophecies, its promised cataclysm falling to a gaping white nothing burger, a lot like the art's lines. "

Full: Jay Chung & Q Takeki Maeda at House of Gaga
Jay Chung and Q Takeki Maeda at Francesca Pia
Jay Chung & Q Takeki Maeda at 356 Mission

Monday, July 1, 2019

Cosima von Bonin at House of Gaga & Magasin III Jaffa


(Gaga, Magasin)

The first show of Cosima von Bonin in both Mexico and Israel the press releases with trumpets. Which feels more colonial than culturally humanitarian, proffering the west's hegemony further into the world. New outposts everywhere. How dreary it would have to lack proximity to these objects of capital. A tooting symptomatic of our belief in art as a beneficial if not outright moral substance in need of spread, of announcement. The commodity is the form we now think in, and these are teh "good" commodities.
Past: Cosima von Bonin at Friedrich Petzel

"...having attempted and failed to peel the stubborn adhesive from the surface [the critics] claim, "ah look how stuck together they are!" And admittedly von Bonin's adherence to the commodity - despite every critical attempt to remove it from - is sticky stuff, and eventually one wonders if there is a layer at all, or merely a patch drawn to appear such. And the whole critical art world grouped around attempting to pick quarters painted on the palatial shopping mall floors while above their bent necks the objects transact. The critical establishment hallucinate quarters because they are needed to eat."


Read the full thing: Cosima von Bonin at Friedrich Petzel

Saturday, June 29, 2019

Shelagh Cluett at greengrassi


(link)

Things modernism might cough up in the night, a visceral utterance, hacked. Sort of becoming-modernism, an abject type. Resembling - as opposed to mimetic or autonomous forms - this in-betweeness - which wasn't so acceptable then, not a pure ideation, but happy with amorphousness. Occasionally resembling Lynda Benglis's objects of around the same time, they seem a caricature of the dominant masculine modes, and too bad Cluett missed the whole unmonumental resurgence. (We weren't really resurging artists in the same way then were we.) But there's something very now about these now, and its too bad that things have to be ordered like that.

Friday, June 28, 2019

Past: Richard Aldrich

"Aldrich's befuddlement of the terms and conditions of paintings makes for obtuse, tangential starts digressing from those painting histories generally acceptable as beginnings. If the paintings seem facetious or frivolous it is because Aldrich doesn't necessarily venerate the histories that are painting cannon, and so which attaching almonds to a painting is not only a thing to do but becomes naturalized as a term of painting - possibly - as all the talk of flatness once was, to be premised as a deduction of the ontological structure of painting rather than some rhetorical hubris..."

"Because surely there is actually a fool doing this full time."

Miltos Manetas at Éric Hussenot


(link)

Which normally, or recently, nostalgia in painting is pureed and spilled onto canvas as artist's childhood's uncanny. But this is straight nostalgia. And unsure what place nostalgia has in painting, a medium whose relation to time is already paradoxical. Painting seems preloaded to become nostalgia, so sprinkling it with it seems redundant. Tuymans got away with by painting threat of destruction within it, nostalgia as sickness. Katz got away with it by the opposite, threatening to turn it into monument-commodity, all those faces threatening subject-loss turned to stone iconicity.  These, even without the 64 and RCA, even when people, are Luc Tuymans meet Alex Katz, placing nostalgia into nostalgia. Redundant. What happens when no one remembers RCA cables and these become nostalgia over something that to begin with barely existed. Which presumes some type of permanence to the painting. Which we can't.

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Richard Aldrich at Misako & Rosen


(link)

No matter how much you make fun of these paintings, they just sort of take it, like dummies, bouncing right back up. Painting as a sponge for blows. Perhaps the best painting is capable of all the lashing in the world. Call these paintings stupid. And they are... but they take it exceedingly well, seem even noble in it. Some paintings whither because they fear stupidity.

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Sophie Reinhold at Sundogs


(link)

Utter softness, risking disappearance into cotton, or as others have put it, a bath. Lost to liquid. And all manner of reference to drains, total submerging the paintings tease. Unsure how fun it is to watch someone melt into a bubble bath.
Past: Lin May Saeed

"Lin May Saeed likes animals, and communicates that by making art depicting animals. Its forthrightness would seem naive if it weren't so endearing, handing it right to you to care for its fragility... the sign intertwined with its loss

"Animals in environments degraded by plastics, EPS, Styrofoam. We with some idea rolling around in our heads about how long these foams last, largely abstract, largely uncertain, a million or a mere ten thousand, years, the foam will persist longer than paintings. But, in the presence of light it very quickly experiences photodegradation breaking down into a powdery substance that will chemically persist in the lungs and bloodstream of animals moving up the food chain. A fragile body, naive, that requires our protection. Sculptures which if improperly cared for become time bombs of their environmental toxicity, careful with them, leaching chemical into the fish they depict carefully, a preciousness we must protect.

"Making art that expresses care for animals by carving it in material that - if left uncared for - would quickly degrade and release poisons to harm those animals depicted is sort like selling artworks as pulled-pin grenades in a puppy shelter, "here, would you mind holding this?"  Why not take a grenade home, why not take back some of this asbestos to protect the earth if not your home, these animals need you. Sort of expressing the suicide games pretty much everyone believes we're playing now in the anthropocene's foot-to-the-pedal towards brick walls type of time period."


Full: Lin May Saeed at Jacky StrenzLin May Saeed at Studio VoltaireLin May Saeed at Lulu

Tuesday, June 25, 2019

Genoveva Filipovic at Federico Vavassori


(link)

The scatlogical undertones of most painting goes unremarked, its primordial stuff, energized by libido, as dirt suspended in goo, as some form of infantile creation, of selling dirty diapers.
"It would be an interesting history correlated, the desublimation of painting, its id-ification, from the surrealist's subconscious to Pollock's becoming "nature" to finally the triumph of neanderthalism (of say Joe Bradley) the history of men's important doodle and the mythology of the infantilized artist. We must care for him, them, genius whose diapers we exchange."
Filipovic's "toy with the white cube’s capacity to render a pile of [brown stuff] expensive." according a Frieze review of her Vilma Gold show. Not even Shimizu's were this shitty even when expressly painting it, and people eating it. But provisional crappiness here seems the point, the reverse digestion of painting's normal sublimation turned to shit.

Monday, June 24, 2019

Yuji Agematsu at Lulu


(link)

Expelled from cultural bowels onto streets and corners, and hook it to the intellect, placing the ass into the head, its virtual cubes, its broadcast mechanism, its hermetic boxes, proffering it, holding it in hands up, saying look at this shit. The new ecologies of waste. In old Germania the toilets were backwards and you would poop onto a shelf so you could face your fear. Look at what you had done. The ropes of your making on stark white planes. It had some medical diagnostic purpose, to know what you had expelled, reading tea leaves in shallow pools, to determine how our cultural digestion was going.


See too: Ser Serpas at LUMA WestbauDylan Spaysky at Good WeatherDylan Spaysky at Clifton BeneventoMelvin Edwards at Daniel BuchholzHenrik Olesen at Schinkel Pavilion,  Henrik Olesen at CabinetHenrik Olesen at Reena SpaulingsNancy Lupo at Kristina Kite & Yuji Agematsu at Miguel AbreuMartin Soto Climent at Michael Benevento & Yuji Agematsu at The Power StationYuji Agematsu at Real Fine ArtsYuji Agematsu at Artspeak“May the Bridges I Burn Light the Way” at STANDARD (OSLO)
Past: Yuji Agematsu

"Our growing attraction to trash..."
"Like Tetsumi Kudo's radioactive ecology, or Thek's plexi-flesh, Agematsu's warm materials of human cast-offs reanimated... Agematsu's delicate compositions as ecosystems, precious, resituating the natural to include microplastics dissolved into heavy saturation islands in the great pacific beverage...bears witness to the beauty of Butterfly collections of petri dish human waste, packaged"


Nancy Lupo at Kristina Kite & Yuji Agematsu at Miguel Abreu,
Martin Soto Climent at Michael Benevento & Yuji Agematsu at The Power Station,
Yuji Agematsu at Real Fine Arts,
Yuji Agematsu at Artspeak,
“May the Bridges I Burn Light the Way” at STANDARD (OSLO)

Sunday, June 23, 2019



Tomorrow, April 23rd, 2016, at 1344 Lambert Cir in Lafayette, Colorado in the USA, there is an Estate Sale. A pause before a life, its objects, is scrubbed. Green Rayon pantsuits laid out on floral polyester bedspread. Ornately bezeled mirrors. Rusting jewelry. A deflated donut cushion. Faint Naphthalene smells. Black velcro shoes. Frames with contents removed. Objects with sentiments evaporating along with the dead who left them to become voids of that sentiment. It's called staging. A purgatory, between vintage reincarnation and garbage. Threshold worlds in the trivial difference between a trash box and moving box. This last transitional moment art extends indefinitely, embalmed to pay respects, injected with formaldehyde to plasticize body without warmth.

Nostalgia suspends in formaldehyde's rose tinted veil our memories. Memories like fetal pigs. New research shows that nostalgia is the brain's way of combating negative feelings and nihilism, the brain self-administering drugs, the form of a memory, recalling a time when one did feel comfortable, safe, happy, jumpstart its human to face current adversity, depression. Nostalgia's "bittersweet" highlighting a continuum of time and thus progress made.

“If you can recruit a memory to maintain physiological comfort, at least subjectively, that could be an amazing and complex adaptation,” he says. “It could contribute to survival by making you look for food and shelter that much longer.” -Dr. Wildschut, nytimes

medical grade injections of nostalgia, Like leftover cake, nostalgia is an artificially sugary concoction we can bring with us, a souvenir that, like Gober's donuts, we desire forever. Nostalgia is how we laminate our heads to appear like there's more precious substances inside. We coat chairs in plastic to think they're worth preserving. This will all be gone soon.

And Art is symptom of death's fear, and men erecting their "monuments," tumescence, to outlast them, the fear. Thus most art is cast iron, unwilling impermanence or loss. But so much humanity isn't iron, instead it is kept in acidic cardboard, gnawed at by the affection rifling through it. Knowledge is kept on rapidly acidifying papers, stored in databanks we anodize against oxidation in deep storage basements to feign permanence, our security. But the world slowly deteriorates, look into the issue of archiving, it's complex nuanced and impossible, it's baby blankets spilled on, barfed on, a biological archive cum box. Bankers boxes purchased by the gross. Your touch leaves a mark, sews a patch, you reproduce yourself in the objects you attend. Statues eroded by touch, by people’s affinity for them. The more loved photographs in your collection slowly destroyed by your desire. Preciousness in warm cardboard, wearing touch, eroding to someone's love.

The word careworn.

Saturday, June 22, 2019

Art as a form that sediments time, a ward against death, ostensibly. A prayer formed to object set to river. "Your second (final) death when someone recalls your name for the last time." Etc. This is the background noise latent art. Ships move apart in the night. Art's "eternality" like a consolation prize, life's souvenir. How one marks their time, marks life, against it ticked away. Feeling sentimental. Blame it on the press release. You, on average, get around 26,0967 days.

Friday, June 21, 2019

An accounting for galleries who had their first show of paintings of black people in 2019,18, Art History majors alight, hopefully. I wonder if there was a catalyst we could point to? The Obama portrait, the skyrocketing prices of the all too great Kerry James Marshall or Njideka Akunyili Crosby, or the all too late Barkley Hendricks Artforum cover, or just people finally awoking to a refreshing air if it didn't come perfumed with so much nervous pumping to a fill a vacuum so obvious. "Young Black Artists Are More in Demand Than Ever—But the Art World Is Burning Them Out" read headlines, like, no shit. "Williams is not alone in feeling conflicted about the type of imagery collectors in particular are gobbling up. 'White collectors want to buy representations of a black body,' artist Kayode Ojo says, 'and there was a time when you could just buy a black person. It’s like, maybe they’re doing the same thing now.'" That paranoia in not just pain but success too. 

Thursday, June 20, 2019

Steffani Jemison at Kai Matsumiya


(link)
Some have suggested the notes are meaningless, the random scribblings of a man who by all accounts was functionally illiterate and demonstrated a low IQ. Olson is quick to argue otherwise. He is convinced the codes could contain leads about where McCormick was or with whom he met in the last hours before his corpse was abandoned to rot along with his secrets.
Ricky McCormick always stood out as different from his peers. His mother, Frankie Sparks, describes him as "retarded." His cousin Charles McCormick, who shared a brotherly relationship with Ricky for most of his life, says Ricky would often talk "like he was in another world" and suspects Ricky might have suffered from schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.
"The only thing he could write was his name," Sparks says. "He didn't write in no code." Charles McCormick recalls Ricky "couldn't spell anything, just scribble."
Don Olson stands by his assessment, however.
"I have every confidence that Ricky wrote the notes," Olson says. -riverfronttimes

Art's theft of pretty much everything, dredging culture for its composition, find its emblem here, a social signifier of all of art's making hieroglyphs of itself, items totally meaningless and full. 

Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Past: Than Hussein Clark

Staged theatrically, their vacancy becomes strength, hollowness holding a surface for eyes to move and containing whatever importance the narrative can attribute it.

Past: Seth Price

"Has Price gone "painting"? In hindsight despite all the technologic and cultural baggage, Price's containers were always forcing that enigma of painting into the vessels everyone was only speaking of conceptually despite Price's continuous plastering optical illusions on." "Which here the point being any sufficiently advanced imaging technology might be indistinguishable from painting's magic. It will produces something alien, mysterious. Halter is right to bring up Gulliver's Travels in relation to Price, the book intended as a spoof of travelogue's desire for exoticism that also came at time when access to scientific technology like microscopes had become common, travel and tech magic depleted, something for parody. "



Click: Seth Price at Friedrich PetzelSeth Price at 356 Mission, Seth Price at Stedelijk MuseumSeth Price at Museum Brandhorst



Monday, June 17, 2019

Past: Fernanda Gomes at Museo Jumex

"intention which becomes a perfume dispersing to all corners of the space. Our noses grow tired of perfume, of rooms, but this has a refresh rate: further and further compositionalizing the room into smaller and smaller sections, fractals, shrinking like that incredible man who finally tiny dissolves into the fabric of the space, everything becomes part of it, the space is "activated," and we are greeted to a total feng shui, everything has been touched. "


 full: Fernanda Gomes at Museo Jumex

Rasmus Myrup at Jack Barrett


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Of all the fetish endlessly sprinkled about art today we hadn't yet seen such light bondage of fragile nature. Men spilling seed for sale in the background.

Sunday, June 16, 2019

Group Show at Cooper Cole


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Could you grow grass with the light of a projector? Could you grow flowers? (Doubtful this hasn't been attempted.) wonder at the total global carbon footprint of currently looping projectors. of anything. Doesn't projecting images of water on dry earth feel apt our world? Our thirst quenched with effect. Endless incantation against, our prayer set to loop.

Saturday, June 15, 2019

Raque Ford at 321 Gallery


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need to manifest text as an aesthetic physicality. At its worst generally involves fabrication budgets for neon, like how little distance we've come since Nauman.
3. We don't trust text alone in space - god forbid we come across as pedagogical, or worse boooring, or, worst, wrong - so we aestheticize it, ironize it, make it sparkle, cut it to a koan, so the lash of language is tempered with comfort, which are aesthetics. There seems no art text not couched in some.
(4. While wall text is, oddly, left to its own institutional devices.)

Despite, when Ford's are their most direct, cut and left dry, they retain all the enjoyment of flipping through artist notebooks. The aestheticization is more the provisionality, but it's a natural form.


Thursday, June 13, 2019

Gene Beery at Fri Art


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"Of course the painter feels a private respect for the signboard, it performs what the artist cannot. The handcrafted simplicity creating a directness of intention that art is forbidden. Artists' private esteem for the simple, functional object. These objects against which art feels inconsequential, inadequate against an elemental usefulness."

Beery toys with this functionality, a slight haywire version sparking in the walls, threatening to burn the whole thing, meaning, down. The trueness of statements, their ability to make sense, becomes if not beside the point, a thing to torture. Not the treachery of images, but the treachery of saying anything at all. 
Past: LaKela Brown at Lars Friedrich

"Commodity displays look a lot like our information displays, the Google images that look a lot like old toy catalogs, inventories of our blossoming desires anointed with the heavenly light of product photography pornography, offering a selection menu that is overexposed, bleaching like coral reefs whose left white skeletons trace a once thriving culture. The ecosystem remains a ghost of taxonomic fossils remaining, held for the assessment of all the dreams of a life embedded."


LaKela Brown at Lars Friedrich

Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Past: Gene Beery

"no wonder the surrealists and conceptualists loved Beery (artists handing him hundreds on the spot) words can perform in a way that art doesn't, forming an address almost inherently surreal, a transmission between people, almost infiltrative, allowing its horsemen direct access to your head, to say whatever it wants, and already there, words standing around inside you."


Josh Smith at David Zwirner


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Maybe what Smith actually provides is relief. Against paintings overdetermined to like the nth degrees by whatever surrealist imago kool-aid the artworld currently swimming, Smith's is an interminable vacation to fields of ever stupid flowers. None of these painting individually matter. Functional. Require zero attention. Just exist like idiotic specimens of a genus Smith. Perhaps this is what Eliza Douglas was responding to, an idea executed, eventually you live long enough with it to learn to love your captor.
Past: Josh Smith at at Eva Presenhuber, Josh Smith at Bonner Kunstverein, Josh Smith at STANDARD (OSLO)

"What was with our fetish then for exaggerated manufacture remains a question, for since we've grown tired of zombies that Smith and the gang had some hand spawning, Guyton, Walker, Price, a group for whom production was theme: recycling, automation, dispersion and Smith's prolificacy spamming himself into consciousness with grotesque versions to prove the mass, beating his name and himself in the head."

"now they sorta look just like any other painting made today. The wild importance of Fordist speed (and its in-distinction) creating busywork spam into cultural consensus..."

"the final internment of line between critical and sellout"


Josh Smith at at Eva Presenhuber, Josh Smith at Bonner Kunstverein, Josh Smith at STANDARD (OSLO)

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

Eliza Douglas at Overduin & Co.


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Not so interesting perhaps from a PierreMenard/Sturtevantian vantage (the whole tongue louse, deterritorial author theft well trod), but maybe as a continuation of Douglas' clever ideas for coating painting in a candy shell, creating frames that exist as excuses for painting. Like before's hands which cast spells for some sloppy "painterly moment." They feel sorta cheap (it would not be the first time the artist has ordered paintings from China) and that seems too, the point, like Smith's lame name, a mere means to fill an exhibition.

In late 2014, hearing that many schools in Europe were free, she called a friend who had gone to the Städelschule in Frankfurt—one of the top art schools in the world, with a reputation for fostering experimental work. She set up a Skype date with a professor, painter Willem de Rooij. Then, with two weeks to go before the meeting, she got to work. 
Douglas began painting abstract forms on random objects around her house—aluminum foil, found images, a set of Batman bed sheets—and photographed the results. She reproduced the images on small canvases using the kind of print-on-demand machines you find at CVS and Walmart, then painted over them again. 
“I thought it was a good way to get a lot of decent-looking stuff made really quickly,” Douglas says now. “I was thinking about how I might be able to get him to think that I was doing something more elaborate than what I really was.” -Taylor Dafoe, artnet
Past: Henrik Olesen

"the filthy human Olesen has, for a while now, been stuffing in crevasses" "flakes like your dead skin collecting under beds with dirt as dust, the cells that Olesen keeps adhering like wet toilet paper to everything, and the hangnails sticking out from walls"


Read full:
Henrik Olesen at Schinkel Pavilion
Henrik Olesen at Cabinet
Henrik Olesen at Reena Spaulings
Gerry Bibby, Henrik Olesen at Sismógrafo


Monday, June 10, 2019

Polly Apfelbaum, Isa Melsheimer at Galerie nächst St. Stephan Rosemarie Schwarzwälder


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Everything in the artworld is in an inflated state today, the material is in excess, the color is set to full, surrealist cartoons everywhere, the world is slapstick. Our Fragonard moment, new rococo, a constant pummeling with rosy perfume.

Sunday, June 9, 2019

Trisha Baga at Marta Cervera


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A genuine gesture to provide the 2D version just to really prove you're not seeing the 3D version, evidence of your distance. But providing the crappy version at least tries. Maybe you've got your own 3D glasses at home. 

Saturday, June 8, 2019

Leda Bourgogne at Jiri Svestka

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The PR, which turns todays art buttons into a machine gun hail of bullet cover, is perhaps more interesting. All of art's terms somehow loaded into its clip, the first paragraph: "complex installation," "allusions of historical painting," "meticulously built,"  "assemblage," "power relations" "contingency of identity constructions", "objects as suffering non-normative bodies," "thematizes," "objecthood of the image," "fetishistically,""the subconscious" "pointing out power relations" "multiple levels of affective" "between"x4 "constant shifting of focus."
The second paragraph begins with our guy THE DANDY. This should be horrible but somehow it's not, it's too much fun.


Friday, June 7, 2019

Cady Noland at MMK


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The means through which we connect. Noland's inventing then what has become widespread today, an archaeology of modern society in art poetics, using objects to denote the human. These things were made for us, they are evidence of us. Turns out the poetry of the modern world isn't pretty, but instead a lot of connections through galvanized steel.

Thursday, June 6, 2019

Past: Diamond Stingily

"and how did natural black hair become a 9 billion dollar industry so profoundly contentious it led Chris Rock to make a documentary about the subject with a Rotten Tomatoes 95% approval rating after his daughter at three asked why her natural hair wasn't "good?" Disneyfication, conforming a subject to dominant culture's preexisting expectations of how that object should be, making for a lot of unnecessary and uncomfortable changes." "...forever ambiguous until looked upon which like the quantum cat's vitals inside a box, a physical attribute achieves a superposition in culture, a sort of walking contradiction as a symbol of power at the same time it leaves open the wound for the bitter slight, Becky with the good hair.'"


Diamond Stingily at Queer ThoughtsDiamond Stingily at Freedman FitzpatrickDiamond Stingily at Wattis

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

Ulrike Ottinger at Kirchgasse


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If Matthew Barney somehow didn't know of Ulrike Ottinger's oeuvre then a medal is in order. Others have made the connection in terms of gender, surrealism, mythos, which is accurate if vague horoscope retro-prediction. But the more distinct fingerprint lay in Ottinger's use of the promotional still image as a mode itself, able to connote and transact meaning equivalent to the film, a received token with through which to speak, a common communal currency. Barney had to have known of this when he turned the promotional image into a metastasized hypertrophic version involving stylists, lighting and image consciousness to an extreme, into basically Levi's ad campaign of artistic hubris. Cremaster succeeded, regardless any filmic merit, on its ability to manifest excitement and intrigue as a promotional vehicle, a cultural mythos that mirrored the mythos within. At the time you could almost talk about Cremaster without having seen any of it, the image was so omnipresent. Seeing was of less import than having being able to have an opinion and know of it. Having gained traction ever since, this form of promotional vehicle cannot be understated in importance post CAD/insta etc. when pipes and what they can funnel is tantamount.

Tuesday, June 4, 2019

Erin Jane Nelson at Atlanta Contemporary


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As the cultural detritus of artist's childhoods coagulates as surrealist irruptions, we become evermore surveyors of trash, the unconscious waste of time. That which sinks to bottom, the marine snow of populist energy discarded. Stuf. Culture is automatism, and artists become the process of its barnicalization.

Monday, June 3, 2019

Angela Bulloch at Simon Lee


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As movements and their banners fade the artistic remainders, no longer surrounded by their fanfare, makes apparent all the mannerism. What conceptual premise even was there against a blinding stylization? Why were we into the ephemera of design projects? The the final 2008 trumpeting of its moment now reads as literal explanation, theanyspacewhatever. And all the critiques reacting and filling the vacuum, Bishop's antagonism or Scanlan or whatever. The work has aged horrifically. And as much as the now any space - devoid of its party - showcases all its vacant stylings for said party, it is also perhaps that our current moment, dominated by the circulated image (and its ability to be read immediately) as tantamount makes these images appear vacant, that 2008 was perhaps the last gasps of when theory, academia, Artforumal banter, or any sort of thought outside surrealist imaginings had some sort of sway in art, filled the air with chatter, a lack of which now make the past appear vacant because we lack chatter.

Saturday, June 1, 2019

Luís Lázaro Matos at Project Space 1646


(link)

It would seem that no amount of thinking about alien life could release us from any sort of anthropocentric prison. Thinking about aliens, we design childhood bedrooms by accident.

Friday, May 31, 2019

Past: Ser Serpas at LUMA Westbau

"Hoarding as a sort of extended compassion for the derelict neglected of culture, a sympathy moving to material itself, material that a world simply would like to rid itself of. Composing it into art objects becomes a blessing for sending the objects into the "heavenly" afterlife, a means of delivering them to the majority white institutions to get them to care for them in perpetuity. Hooking the hose from the expelling parts of our cultural body to the part that feeds, getting it to eat its underwear."


Ser Serpas at LUMA Westbau

Thursday, May 30, 2019

Bendt Eyckermans at Carlos/Ishikawa


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"the kids grown on cartoons have arrived and their childhoods have coincidentally, absurdly, become the accurate depictions of the way the world has begun to feel"
Dramatic like theater kids, and a light that is. Like maybe a few others, Keegan Monaghan or Gijs Milius etc., the pathos found in the real rendered as leather, our substance as a mistake. The joke perhaps that surely we are not made of mere goo, able to be "abstracted" as gore, stretched as idiots, bodies like foibles. This would, if true, if we are accurate as cartoons, identify with such, be eternally sad. Eyckermans' seems to be that closer it can vacillate between positions of "realness" and "melodramatic goo" (El Greco as comedy) the more we might feel to physically identify with such absurdity. A line between drama and stupidity that is the world currently, and so paintings to realize it.


see too: Gijs Milius at Gaudel de Stampa

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

Rebecca Brewer, Rochelle Goldberg at Oakville Galleries


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our desire for a materiality comes at the hands of world we increasingly do not touch. And so art must become a hyperstimulus; art must make us, perverts of novelty, feel something through glass, by sight, because our hands have been removed to a world we touch only through electrified track pads, through eyes, through a world like advertisement. And art, for all its self-segregation, increasingly must compete with entirety of visual diaspora, entering into mass cultural networks, instagram and webpages becoming its channels, same as all the other. The gloss of Artforum is now a forlorn beacon in comparison. How does art compel belief in its higher order. We now compete with actual images of dead oiled fish. Art excesses itself, crusts, proofs its real.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Rémy Zaugg at Nordenhake


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Conceptual art's withdrawal as a form of authority, denial as a form of strength, austerity to prove control, an iron grip of anality. The fissure immaculately conceives something tight enough to be mistaken for diamonds. The bureaucrat dressed in white suddenly looks like a doctor, and latex hands prove reason for his digging. Attempts to confuse the situation by making you the subject.


see too: John Knight at REDCATJohn Knight at CabinetJohn Knight at Greene Naftali

Monday, May 27, 2019

Frieda Toranzo Jaeger at Galerie Barbara Weiss


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Images latent in our expectations. "complicating the minimalist mantra of what you see is what you see, because what you see is sometimes sexually confusing, leather seats in car beginning to look like the lap of a tanned, taught, naked man."
Our products look like sexual objects.


See too: Vincent Fecteau at Misako & RosenJana Euler at dépendance,

Sunday, May 26, 2019

Ann Veronica Janssens at Micheline Szwajcer


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Art is stupid, but the universe might be worse, arbitrary. Occasionally things click and the world briefly goes dark. A universe at large enough scales like clockwork. That we view through lenses wet with glass. The phenomenological that seems an attempt to reason with meat watching these big careful clocks.


Ann Veronica Janssens at BortolomiAnn Veronica Janssens at Micheline Szwajcer


Past: Ann Veronica Janssens

"It isn't difficult to warp with human perception, our bodies create the world we perceive and many physiological rifts in its construction that create whole subgenres of "optical illusions" exploiting these glitches. But the simpler the construction of the exploit - the more minimal its resource to mine such faults - the more distrustful we become of our basic grip on reality, real trippy."




Saturday, May 25, 2019

Past: Orion Martin at Bodega

"the roughly two inches of depth that Martin allows as pans for the sifting of images, cultural gold, and perhaps owing to Beckman's claustro-orgies, updating that era's expressionism is for this one's iPhone sheen, both's cultural unconscious brought up and pressed against the glass for our peering zoological efforts. The 'shreds of childhood half-memories made manifest, and fleshed out with so much lurid detail that it feels confrontational' with the images we have internally seared into us, cultural echoes rattling around inside your head's quiet moments occasionally materializing from the noise of your brain a jingle from 30 years ago."



Read full: Orion Martin at Bodega

Thursday, May 23, 2019

Tobias Kaspar at Peter Kilchmann


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Folding fashion into art should seem to cause a nebulous hole to erupt, a singularity, the whole thing en abyme and vertiginous, distinctions collapse and the thing torn open for questioning. But it just looks like art.


see too: Tobias Kaspar at Silberkuppe

Past: Tobias Kaspar

"None of this is lost on Kaspar who has been gliding between fashion-as-art and just-plain-art, just-plain-art mirrored in the silvered rise of other painters reflective own, fashions which for the moment the flash can be frozen"


Past: Tobias Kaspar at Silberkuppe

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Sophie Thun at Sophie Tappeiner


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Forensic or creepy photo lab guy, you implicated in eyes looking back, our hands all over these eyes distinctly not from page 7 of the Victoria's secret catalog but something far more fragile, wounded or capable of. Not really much of the erotics of Paul Sepuya's, more like that Sky Ferreira album art that made people so uncomfortable. Uncertain, our relation. That Anne Collier structural cleverness that everyone seems to love.  Like Roni Horn's You are the Weather, the ever slight variations in a human face are alone more than enough for an artwork, face's ability to crumple, wither, and smooth itself in expression. Hand manipulate them to be so.
Past: Anna-Sophie Berger at JTT

"Berger's exhibitions look like group shows, filled to the brim with objects inconsistent. If outward appearance needs consistency to "make sense," if fashion is meant as an expression of its subject, the wearer, we could draw a line from Berger's fashion discourses earlier to now: a breakdown in objects ability to communicate its subject, artist or wearer...."


read full: Anna-Sophie Berger at JTT

Nikolas Gambaroff at Schiefe Zähne


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As far as drab shows, this one designates the criteria, midcareer artist shooting himself in the foot to prove the town he's still capable of blood, thought. You have to be righteously in awe. Unsure whether to be happy with the lack of convertibles and toupees or designate this as artistic such.


See too: Nikolas Gambaroff at The KitchenNickolas Gambaroff at Galerie Meyer Kainer

Monday, May 20, 2019

Gillian Carnegie at dépendance


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A sort of carving Euan Euglow by way of Vilhelm Hammershøi, an Arrangement in Grey and Black the number one thing is the references we could pile upon these. Peppered with Sphinxes whose riddle must be answered, painting. And us all tossing darts at meaning. Carnegie's slow career to worlds with no light, almost shadowless worlds reticent, seen in distant silver. All those butts and suns previous and no one makes a Bataille joke. Two reviews from the time instead horrifically conclude with allusions to the artist being "in the mood," the other having "the arrogance of a girl; one who knows how to get you off, when to put out and when not." No wonder Carnegie went indoors, away from the light's "ignoble shaft" "the indecency of the solar ray." Instead something mercurial, resistant to hands, and thus why all the writing on Carnegie is pretty much awful, this. Simon Thompson's letter at least refuses to attempt manhandling the situation, with and not at. If what Mayweather did was easy, all boxers would do it. Withdraw as a form of iconoclasm, luminous in rejection. How annoying to wither, die, under the mockery of a cat's impassion.


See too: Luc Tuymans at David ZwirnerThomas Eggerer at Richard TellesCaleb Considine at Daniel BuchholzCaleb Considine at Massimo de CarloVenice: Victor Man at The Central Pavilion

Sunday, May 19, 2019

Frank Stella at Marianne Boesky


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People love to invoke Walter Robinson's quote: "I admire Stella because he is making the ugliest art it is possible to make today.” Which, maddeningly cannot find the original source for this quote since the padding around it seems to matter. Because admittedly, the staggering asininity is their joy. They are like a clown exploding diagrammatically, intestines like silly string. The clown dies. But Stella's are essays in permanence. Matthew Strauss grammed all the various bird shit/piss on these that they will weather, because there isn't anything you could smear on these to make them better or worse, like a clown. And also like a clown, if a tumor is unchecked growth of a body, Stella's seem the unchecked growth of "creativity." Moles everyone has an opinion on whether we need them checked out. Which pretty sure is like a clown. Which pretty sure is a metaphor the these, some type of unchecked growth, clowning. These belong in the banks lobbies you see them in, absurdifying the notion of taste, of unchecked growth, all the clowns they let past security.

Saturday, May 18, 2019

The lumpy, crusty, has become an almost exhausting form. The play dough, the bulbous form which embodies a sort of embryonic potential of "creative act," and vessels for. The lumpy is an excess which proves the artist, showcases their hand. Replacing the drip as the new expressive. Things droop, we bloat. We got the -itis, some form of imflammitory disease. Pimply like we're pubescent, cute, like at any day the potential of our maturity, almost uncanny.

Thursday, May 16, 2019

Joanne Greenbaum at Richard Telles


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the confusion of painterly terms, parsing the difference in Greenbaum's marks between accident and expression, calculated or automatism. The categories get blurry, Sherman Sam: "which in another era would have been construed as the struggle between the intellect and the romantic." But Greenbaum seems to defy more categories in regurgitating expressive modes, flaunting its social codes like any good hysteric would. The hysteric was made to believe they were irrational, crazy, but they were, really, simply not fitting into the the mores of stifling polite company, even Pollock's "expression" contained within "painting" but these are always teasing something that we might find repulsively not-painting, irrational.
Past: Joanne Greenbaum

"The proto-modern gentility balanced with an undercutting maximalism, like a dog having found the birthday cake to lay it out once again on the patterned rug.
"Awkwardness is the contemporary expression of painting 'critically;' by denying the logic of painting’s normal order (taste) it infers a strategy not commanded by higher powers but an immanence, the human subject, 'dysmorphic', without returning to an expressivity [...] It’s the result of the schizo positioning of painting today, in which everyone wants a subjectivity expressed but no one wants human expression. The hysteric is the ability for the human to appear through the grate of order; social, relational, capital, or artistic."


Joanne Greenbaum at Crone

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Vincent Fecteau at Misako & Rosen


(link)

The muscle car was - if by name alone - intended to resemble a body. Exuded the "muscle" it contained, sleek and rippling with. The image seeped into culture and the fast cars took on different appearances, insectoid, technical. But those muscled images remain latent, in the cultural ether, and Fecteau seems to pluck and rearrange some subconscious forms of these chopped and reassembled, looking like something you vaguely recall but can't place. Like a google algorithm trying to invent a car part, like a human recalling some vague sexual attachment to a physical objet before understanding what a body was for.

Past: Vincent Fecteau

"Fecteau's like architectural navels, the "complicated pockets" like ears or industrial labia. They resemble, brandish resemblance, which morph in sinuous exterior/interior unsecured. Twist in like an ouroboric muscle car. Like cutting open your abdomen to reveal a cathedral. These turns are important, they mirror our body's soft points, the vulnerable pink cusps." "Notice your body shifting from exterior to interior, your lips, eyes, anus, ears, urethral opening, these twilight moments rolling into."



Past: Vincent Fecteau at greengrassi“Magic Ben Big Boy” at Matthew Marks

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

Josef Strau at House of Gaga


(link)

Well, they're pretty in a crushed can on the street sorta way, or a butterflies broken in the gutter, angels compressed into glitz souvenirs. Pretty in that any sorta silver sort of way, like shiny things be. Pretty in a "why?" sort of way. The way butterflies seem garish and unnecessary to a world and inspire our wrath so children crush them and artists crush them against canvas, looking for ways to bejewel our production, steel it against the unpleasant taste of mouths eating coin. They're fine in that way of pleasantness, pinnacle of subservience that is the crux of high dollar abstraction, submission to their surroundings by letting it walk all over them.


see too: Josef Strau at House of Gaga