Steven Parrino at Kunstmuseum Liechtenstein

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Eventually attitude dissipates and there is a museum of very well attended to objects. Attempting to maintin the attitude of angst and destruction with white gloves and acid free cotton swabs and lighting like the heavens they've been beamed into. All the silvery veils. All punk eventually sells Cola-Cola, becomes nice, attempting to discern all the difference between this and Pollock.

Nora Turato at Kunstmuseum Liechtenstein

The objects blank but the walls screaming. Language is terror, a horror, means of authority.

The infectious insertion of a stranger's speech into yours: when I write "lake" the word appears in you, my voice for yours. Reading is like relinquishing control of thought to an author's temporary marionetting of yours. How odd that my words are a voice in your head. Reading is such an automatic mechanism. It is a base human disposition to "read" our environment, to make sense of our surroundings, and advertising takes advantage of this: a byline appears and before you can stop yourself you have read it, allowed it briefly to control you and its message has been passed, its transaction has been complete, and its sign depleted lifeless garbage. Artists soften this verbose assault by clipping meaning, leaving it to never complete a logic but hover incomplete and

Language: Hanne Lippard, Nora Turato at Metro Pictures, Tony Cokes at Greene Naftali, Matt Keegan, Kay Rosen at Grazer, Jessica Diamond at Team (bungalow)