David-Jeremiah at Meliksetian | Briggs

(link)

The inkblotification of art meeting its stonhengification. Luckily they ironize each other. Turning trope to monument. Turning the trope theatrical. An overwrought materiality one can appreciate. Like Pope.L, a joke that dissipates instead into the punchline of expectation, blackness for your projection.

see too: stonehengification, Inkblot, Pope.L

Bas Jan Ader at Meliksetian | Briggs

(link)

Funny or sad? or a sort of funny sad, conflicted feelings, "a literary genre that blends aspects of both tragic and comic forms" - like surely he's not actually going to get into that boat.. oh. huh. Wait, what? No.

Alex Heilbron at Meliksetian | Briggs

(link)

An explosion in a Hello Kitty flannel factory. A John Wesley from hell. Organized, but not necessarily reasonable. 

Johannes Wohnseifer at Meliksetian | Briggs

(link)

Our paintings collect culture like a surreal flypaper. Like seeing phantasms, after-images with your eyes still open. At night in bed from dark currents in your brain emerges a decade old jingle.

John Miller at Meliksetian | Briggs

(link)

What was so flashy twinkling across televisual space is frozen as the wallpaper of painting and hideous: television zazzle becomes the bad struggle to taxidermy it. The Price is Right, running for over half a century, has done something right commanding midmorning viewers through a Vegas labyrinth watching guesses at the price of garbage, but Miller's focus on the chintz is as much an attack on painting as much as any politics of mass entertainment premised on the evaluation of commodities. This the point surely. Because the television game is no different from the majority of dealers and collectors also guessing the eventual price or status of the painting before you. The critic/viewer only plays into the game because the paintings are dead, and bodies assessing providing breaths for its life support. The transpositional point where glitz is equal to the stagnant monochromes.