Amelie von Wulffen at KW

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Ghosts in our garbage, [x] in our things. Nightmares in the waste repressed, under the rugs, stuffed into hills, called landfills. Our history. It accumulates. In corners, on paintings. The mud of culture. The brown of painting's history hides a lot; we'd prefer not to remember.

Lucy Skaer at KW

(link)

They're just such nice things. Commodity's reproducibility, the quantity, the mass suggests its virtuality, the perfect other they all infer as individuals plucked from it, the ether of abstraction, the idea of the product. Obviously this is a lie, the commodity isn't its conception but rather the defecation of it, the bodily machined sweat object. Commodities infer virtuality. But are far more handmade than we generally think, factory sweat is wiped from every clean aluminum body. Things melt and are cast aside.  The particular begins to vanish from above, so we bejewel some, award them medals, give them titles, separate them from populations, learned like children from gameboards, how we deal with the world today.


See too: Katharina Fritsch at Walker Art Center, Mathis Altmann at Freedman Fitzpatrick

Willem de Rooij at KW

(link)


Attempts to discern is handed a blue screen to infer what in "Whiteout—a selection of de Rooij’s production from the last twenty years" is happening.  This feeling we have at such attempts, of confusion, of being at a loss, is strange to us since art generally works to be so visibly, pornographically there. But it's the power of the known artist to withold, give us the promotional still as FOMO shield: that we are unable to judge but know happened and we missed out.





See too: Willem de Rooij at Le Consortium and Willem de Rooij at Arnolfini