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Content you apply as a paint, or collect like a grime. Kin Henrik Olesen's stuffing filth into crevasses (and hair adhesived among else) art's usual conceptual pyrotechnics are given abject gloss that prevents our usual cerebral distance, a sterility requiring less iMac than latex gloves. The humor is less punning than sexual, painting in need of laundromats, content viral, wash basins, outlets smeared with paint. The fear of the Kristevan abject is less the fear of repulsiveness than the fear of it becoming-you, nearing you-ness, we fear getting it on us because we fear its indistinguishability between us, and Farquhar's continual covering of everything with everything else spreads the fear that we could get some painting on us.
see too: Keith Farquhar at Cabinet, Henrik Olesen at Cabinet, Henrik Olesen at Reena Spaulings
