Gay Outlaw, Helen Mirra, ﾠﾠﾠﾠﾠﾠﾠﾠﾠ at soda, Kyoto

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The question of "what does this mean?" is replaced with, "what am I looking at?" An ostensible glitch in the visibility production machine. The above - guessed to be an - Ian Rosen project gotten more baroque, a mutation, succeededon the demands of infection, the host CAD. Which is where our previous golf metaphor breaks down. The putt was sunk. Admittedly in today's news real success is transmission. (Sanchez et al.) There's very little to 'gram. Surely the point. Whereas it had been that sinking your art into good gallery placement was key to the laurels - something the Rosen project had been surely adept at - this is no longer the ultimate conditions of art. “what had been a process of legitimation, attributable to particular institutions or critical bodies, now becomes a process of simple visibility, attributable to the media apparatus itself.” Accreditation today looks more like JoshSmith/Kardashian spamming yourself into cultural consciousness. "Fame is only predicated on sight, not value: eventually a critical mass of people know you and then you are famous." If we're unsure what we're looking at the machine can't transmit. This where we're teed up for the art writers' questionable duty, to answer for the question, the point. But we renege. We're left holding a glitch, a hole. Containing a golf ball.

See too:  Ian Rosen, Nandi Loaf at King’s Leap, Sophie Nys at Crac Alsace

Christopher Knowles at Bridget Donahue

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If Knowles had gotten famous back then we could have entirely prevented Jonas Wood. Possibly several others. An artworld revolving around paint rather than ideas. 

Motoyuki Daifu at Misako & Rosen

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An odd fact that we let dogs piss all over the world. It's, like, totally cool. "It will rain someday," thinks the dog owner, letting god take the reins on this mess. Dogs emit the color of hazard, signaling their species' - on the whole - dehydration. 

But here the artist splashed water - it's not pee - which, I don't know, I guess complicates it something. The Pollockian waypoint: dribbled abstraction and marking Guggenheim property, your territory, drunkenly, yelling "I am nature" to the policeman explaining, "you can't pee here, Pollock, dog."

Past: Susan Cianciolo

"...Your touch leaves a mark, sews a patch, you reproduce yourself in the objects you attend. Preciousness in warm cardboard, wearing touch, eroding to someone.."

click here for full: Susan Cianciolo at Modern Art, Yellow Archive

Sophie Giraux at Etablissement d’en face

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Art becomes affect tunnels. This one goes warm, the next one goes cold. You standard repetition-as-desensitization chamber. Under the Leckyian bridge. Or in the next room cuteness, rubberized. That we are asked to process. Art is always asking us to process. We lift its chaos like weight, to get stronger, a more resilient muscle at its tinkering your head. 

Major theme in current art: Desensitization, corruptive affect. "the diminished emotional responsiveness to a stimulus after repeated exposure to it. It also occurs when an emotional response is repeatedly evoked in situations in which the action tendency that is associated with the emotion proves irrelevant or unnecessary."

see too: Zak Kitnick at Clearing, Morag Keil at Real Fine Arts, Desensitization

Astrology

 "Astrology like tarot cards finds alliance with art since the artwork has mutated to be less an object of beauty than a fount for interpretation. Art having gone from object to oracle. The point of art begins to be setting the spheres to rotate so they may occasionally align, a machine for semio-recombination we could call meaning. Artists become not merely the recombinators of signs, but the producers of machines to do this, to be turned to on, set to run. Endless interpretability becomes their function. This is art, possibly. "

"your level of trust in the celestially telling matters less than the overall strategy: turning an artwork to an interpretable state and blinking, tea leaf divination in sporty Vegas-odds inkblots. We're primed to see meaning in information, in art, particularly when so bright and shiny, and thus here's lots to be said about these works, interpretation to be done, they'll pour forth all you are willing to extract from them. Perfect analysands. Like the wacky inflatable arm man drawing eyes to dealerships, Arakawa understands the qualifiers for "art," performing them with wacky panache, theatricalizing the artwork as a caricature of attention, art played to show its now quite standardized set of rules."

Astrology: Ei Arakawa at Kunstverein Dusseldorf, “Hecate” at Various Small Fires

Tarot too: Juliette Blightman & Dorothy Iannone at Arcadia Missa, Caitlin Keogh at Bortolami 

Saturn at Vigo

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Burst Pants? Posted on Christmas Eve? 👀