Tala Madani at 303 Gallery

(link)

The projection screen of painting is the same projection screen as the minds eye. You draw from one to draw onto another. Mirror images. And Madani's projection screens make this act explicit, the theater of the imagination. Like Wade Guyton who rode a wave of funereal optimism that we would one day merely press print on our dreams. That painting expressing its ability to conjure is desirable because it proves wishes can be made concrete. You can dream it, you can print it. Or paint it, like all those paintings of Jesus. But Madani shares a similar nihilism as Guyton: that what we will see in other's printed conscious is a lot of nightmares, Madani's.


See too: Wade Guyton at Academie Conti & Le Consortium, Tala Madani at David Kordansky

Sam Falls at 303 Gallery

(link)

The whole premise of "process-based abstraction"'s ability to create souvenirs of experience you didn't have is premised on some vestigial trait of conceptual that may never have existed. I.e. does On Kawara painting "January 22nd 1988" on canvas actually mean anything outside a finger toward it.  Does an artist in the forest placing native plants on a canvas actually contain its sound? What information is stored? The signifier does not actually contain its signified, I thought we understood that. No cares seems to care where the canvas is wove, where the pigment is made; no we only care for the image which ostensibly means something, stupidly. Both "index" their world, other artists.

Karen Kilimnik at 303 Gallery

(link)

Droitcur: quirky innocence
Time Out: Unabashed Kitsch
Roberta Smith: woman-child imagination

Two Artforum articles of length act as antipodal oscillation asserting Kilimnick's content,
Hainley's citing Kilminik's siting as IED mirrors in the halls of the rich, ready to shatter jewel's broken glass into their visages caught reflected in the decadence, as a giant "fuck-you" to the rich, taking time to amass evidence of and against that who Hainley, in deference, refers, 18 years prior, Rhonda Lieberman's 1994 cover confoundment, in who's (Lieberman's) initial assumption of critique is continually railroaded by Kilimnick herself's brick wall amassed of unmitigated love for everything, including the blank facades of wealth and decor, and evidence of provided.


See too: Katherine Bernhardt at Venus Over Manhattan, Simon Denny at MoMA PS1

Jacob Kassay at Fitzpatrick-Leland House

(link)

Having been with this thread for a while,

“Seven Reeds” at Overduin & Co.
Sophie Nys at Crac Alsace
Brian Calvin at Le Consortium


It's an old advertising truism that a every consumer, even the jaded, buys the emotions associated with a product more than the product itself. The buy-in being a broad sense of any investment, monetary, social, symbolic or otherwise. When selling a chair from a glossy mail order catalog photograph it on a beach to associate a lifestyle. Imagine these objects without this backdrop.
And so is CAD a lifestyle mail order catalog? No, but Kassay sorta makes it look like one. Which is funny. Using the imbuing qualities of setting/documentation to perform its totemisms.
As always, Kassay lovely in a vague sense, of a model home.


See too: “Being Thing” at Centre International d’Arte et du Paysage & Treignac Projet

Florian Maier-Aichen at 303 Gallery



These new big colorful abstractions are just the ugliest, but the Richter precedent is strong, abstraction better than sex for sales. It’s deceptive how such a simple, stupid, and dumb gesture, printed big, and made by a pedigreed artist will at first look of interest, like something halfway new, a new direction, but its One Direction territory, managed pop to the masses of money, the least risky thing Maier-Aichen could do, almost predestined, and, though I can’t know him or judge his intentions, horribly horribly sad.