Nina Beier at Metro Pictures

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The world converted to nougat, or asphalt. Expeller pressed in great lengths. Would you like your tar with nuggets? Adding peanuts makes it a Snickers, emulsification with added soap and water makes it cold-mix asphalt-concrete.  The Mars bar is similar to the American Milky Way (which is different than the European Milky Way which is more like an American 3 Musketeers.) The American Milky Way produces about 25 thousand miles of its bar a year. This is about double the 13 thousand of miles of roadway the US adds a year. Weirdly human use of asphalt predates human use of chocolate by a couple millennia, and weirdly nearly 99% of asphalt concrete is recycled, turned back into roads, whereas all those miles of chocolate nugget are passed down pipes in brown cigars. How many miles of brown cigars does the average person move?  We can convert things to other things through these points of pass through, surrealism predicated on making things look like other things, this ability for misrecognition that capitalism has gotten so adept at my making everything so convertible for other things that everything really does feel like a number, like a cartoon, like nugget, like asphalt, feel like shit, because the world fungible with it.


See too: Nina Beier at David Roberts Art Foundation,  Nina Beier at Kunstverein Hamburg, Nina Beier at Croy Nielsen

Nina Beier at Croy Nielsen

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Moving from a visual virtuality to a dispersed cultural one, finding points to overlap as sculptural homophones: cultural cross points bringing their distance together like two ends of a blanket. All the points, listed neatly in the press release, converge here in the voluptuous ass as its breakthrough. You thankfully get to assemble the metaphors yourself, the spine of it: the venus's absorption into our cultural memory (like, the most latent image) surfacing in strange objects, objects that massage the asses they mimic. The vibrato chair's pleasure, or the rotund tourist thieving the paradisiacal pubis he cannot contain himself from taking, utlimately ruining his desire, what an ass.

These latent images precipitated by human desire, embedded into common objects, as anthropologically surreal manifestations of it continually becoming a more interesting aspect of today's surrealism resurge, strongly produced mostly by women. See too:


See too:  Nancy Lupo at Swiss Institute, Nancy Lupo at 1857, Nairy Baghramian at Marian Goodman, Katja Novitskova at Kunsthalle Lissabon, Klara Lidén, Alicia Frankovich at Kurator, Nina Beier at David Roberts Art Foundation,

Nina Beier at Kunstverein Hamburg

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The small charge psychedelia of Beier's surrealism is the world become reproducible, a world capable of being reproduced in an unccanny distance between real and its surrealist cartoonifaction. Objects under glass become image, virtual, water and glass become exchangeable, able to print the world, translated, tiled, clicked, and dragged, falsified like currency. Magrittean prophecy rung true.

Alicja Kwade at Kunstmuseum St. Gallen, Amanda Ross-Ho at the Approach, Nina Beier at David Roberts Art Foundation

“National Gallery” at Grand Century



The exhibition was a month ago but its good timing this late-entry-prior Miami arrivals to get the free advertising, labelled on the map of relevancy, legitimation and visibility. Before there be just serpents in the uncharted. But a few famed friends shed light as german markers of this new territory, addendum to Empire’s realm.
The show hung on the ceiling.
Looks fun - Genzken at 66 still has it, and Kennedy’s work was always made to do this - but in it’s desire for “a heightened physical awareness that serves to explore the idea of vision as corporeal” and “a temporary resistance to mass circulation” the irony of its installation upset lies in the fact that it was always going to end up in the trading routes of it not Empire, then any of the other outsider networks, pretty much made for it by the gallery National’s standard two day party affair, documentation for the hungover circulation, and that that is all that is left, temporary resistance as a good foreplay, because every good sea man does eventually want to get swallowed.

Nina Beier at David Roberts Art Foundation

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20th century Surrealism couldn’t have predicted how surreal the 21st would actually become. Like the floor on view here, the new virtuality of surface makes Magritte’s paintings a reality, a drag and drop physicality positioning images into the real. That we now live submerged in dreamscapes, that this why art today is so much surrealist theater, Marxist or otherwise, that more and more it mirrors the world in which we live. “Trapped in an ambiguous position between an object and the representation of that object;” like so many surrealist crimescenes, who spilled the vegetables, the engaged tubes pouring in through the window.