Showing posts with label Francis Irv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Francis Irv. Show all posts

Monday, June 9, 2025

Oliver Osborne at Francis Irv

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Osborne doubling down on his matte representation, its dry scumbled until dusty. Yellow paint like grandma's, you need a Claritin for it. "[Richard] Prince's real joke is that the paintings keep telling the same joke for years and years stupidly." Our most famous sans-comedy. Repetition, run into the ground begets something else. A non. A fading. Dry humor to dust. Reboots? Maybe just lovely dust. A new nostalgia.

See too: "Artisanal Old-timey rendering, wrapping its cold surface in warm wool."

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Reinhard Mucha at Francis Irv


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Probably one of those artists in deserving the retrospective. So we can all collectivize our memory of him. Put him on speaking terms, a common language. Is that what retrospectives do? Not interested in the past but about the fact that looks like today, no?

Friday, October 27, 2023

Rachel Fäth at Francis Irv

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A kind of formalism we find endearing, one that follows its own form into esoterics. Questions of "what's it for" alienation, what use could it be? Because art has no use, though we require it. This leaves an open question where meaning forms. All the little points and greebles to precipitate it.

Think Richard Rezac's alien question, meets Oscar Tuazon's protestant ethic, and Matt Paweski's erotic service of the machine, or K.r.m Mooney's "Jeweler's dilemma."

See too: Richard Rezac, Oscar Tuazon at Le Consortium & Paradise Garage, Matt Paweski, K.r.m Mooney

Monday, June 26, 2023

Benjamin Echeverria at Francis Irv


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Patina authenticates, proves labor, human, the subject goo we desire from painting. Painting is an adhesive that collects the air of its subject the artist. More than brushwork. It's how Guyton manufactured his celebration: all the little blips and drips and skips he was commended for tugging out - pressing print on the markers of work, authenticity! This was during the vogue of reclaimed wood cladding a world turning plastic.  The myth of artistic journey, as a symbol for it. "If I give you my denim. Will you simulate distress"?

See too: Alvin Baltrop at Hannah HoffmanFrank Walter at David ZwirnerPurvis Young at James Fuentes