Extreme bullshit meaningless art review of a showing in a gallery
Extreme bullshit meaningless art review of a showing in a gallery, one about an exhibition of work by thirteen artists. It was a particularity of design, one which came on the brink of an insanity, but on the other hand seemed to retain a sense of normalcy, as a kind of form of reasonableness. The show was a frontal attack on the vanity of taste, a frontal attack on the artists that have all but disappeared from the art world.A number of artists, from Bernard Posey to the Rev. Ed Dutton, have the misfortune to be part of that group which, although this exhibition also included a number of them, had the most successful first show. This is a group which is, with one exception, determined to keep its uniqueness and is going to keep on producing new work.The first show was an embarrassment of riches. The theme was shocking in the way in which it challenged traditional notions of what constitutes art, and the design/art contrast between the new, clean, and simple objects, and the art, clean, and elaborate, was as striking as the subject of the works. The new was almost as sophisticated as the old, and in many of the pieces the old in the same way. The design was well practiced, the art advanced to the point where the design was more sophisticated than the art. This tendency seemed to be the essence of the new art. A total understanding of this situation, one which had been made in good part by the innovative art students in the University Art Program at Washington College of Art, revealed what was really new, the work, and what was artificial. It was the subtlety of the design which was fresh and colorful, the economy of the craft which appeared to be more interesting than the design. The use of beautiful, formal objects as a matter of life as it is used in art was so richly displayed and so clearly demonstrated in the new work that it gave the sense of an extreme degree of sophistication.
, with the art being anything but made of gold, hides. The selection of works does not select to reveal hidden truths, but to make us feel uncomfortable and uncomfortable about the lack of clarity and of art worth having.
Extreme bullshit meaningless art review of a showing in a gallery not affiliated with the New Yorks Woodie Branch, the silliness of which is almost perverse—in the catalogue, the artist compiles an impenetrable list of all the fictions found in these works. I don't mean to suggest that our relationship to art is junk—that there is no such thing as junk art—but the fact that the Woodie Branch is a branch of art that claims to be art is more than enough to deny the illusion that the existence of such art is anything other than junk. The fact that many of the works in the Woodie Branch are better than the others does not prevent us from viewing them differently. The assumption is that art is a kind of vehicle that includes the capacity for genius, but, as shown here, this capacity is so far from nonexistent that art is a sort of set of test, and one may hold an artworks mediocre if they fail the test. What is more, many of the artists in the Woodie Branch would be worse than others on this list, especially the brash, less educated artists who live in New York. So what do we make of the Woodie Branch? Do we take the class, represent it, or represent it in terms of art? Can art survive in a world in which art history is a mess of popular fiction, the spectacle of a rich bunch of idealists becoming fabulously wealthy? Or is art merely the most likely vehicle for some sort of genius, in other words a technology of human ingenuity? In other words, are we all art? But with a few exceptions, the Woodie Branch does not seem to be a class. The actual classes of artists here are not necessarily classifications, but there is no sense in which they do not exist. When one walks through the Woodie Branch, one sees the likes of Bob Dylan, Eric Bogosian, and Charles Ray. Of course, the Woodie Branch does not produce art—there is no art in it.
Extreme bullshit meaningless art review of a showing in a gallery by Tom Doll, Joe Goodes, and others.This show, if I am correct, is the first ever to be funded in London. In previous shows at Grosvenor Gallery I have often described a show at a gallery as a series of discrete events, similar to the kind of collage you might find on a painting table. But here, one at a moment when the art world seems to be in turmoil, an exhibition can feel very much like a cyclical process. The whole exhibition works together from the beginning; there is no sequence. The exhibitions can never be really resolved at any point, no one artist can be left untouched. The only thing left is experimentation. At the Grosvenor, the new show presents a strategy that reflects the innovative flexibility of the artists and encourages the viewers participation in their participation. The titles for the series suggest the kinds of things that could be done: e.g., the Cold War, the AIDS crisis, the war in Vietnam. But it is the kind of things that only one artist has chosen to do that make them interesting: table-top video installations, computer-assisted video, a documentary of a real-life event. The results are not necessarily the greatest ones, but they are fascinating nonetheless. Here, what was really interesting was the work itself. Richard Artschwagers new video work is visually stimulating. For example, the installation of two black-and-white color photographs of homeless people in New Yorks East Village is a powerful demonstration of the variety and variety of the characters who inhabit the area. Each image is a single-image montage, arranged on an image-by-image basis. The images, like the work, are bound up with a background that seems not to exist in the real world, and the subject matter seems to be a mere surface for the drama, suspense, and violence. Artschwager uses this particular material to reflect on the postmodern condition of society.
Extreme bullshit meaningless art review of a showing in a gallery. If the claim that the show was the first to survey painting in the US was serious, it was made out to be by an absurdly close to zero percent. The claim to be the first to survey painting in the US was made out to be almost entirely bogus, as exemplified by a spurious claim that the show included 19 paintings by 20 artists. The survey might well have included some of the greats, such as Charles Demuths evocative and interesting Bauhaus painting of the same name, and George Hamilton-Harolds saturated, black-and-white abstractions of his family and friends. But as far as I could tell, these 19 paintings by 20 artists were really about the art world.Some of the greats were odd and strange. Jean Genets Western painting was very hard to take. This is not just because Genet used surrealistic techniques and called them pictures but because he painted them in a primitive style—his painting was essentially cubistic in some respects, but nevertheless managed to raise an important, nonobjective question: what constitutes a picture? (In fact, he called his paintings pictures and drew his own figures on the canvas.) As a result, it is no wonder that a great deal of the art in the show was odd. There were some works by an artist who is considered by many to be the most important Cubist of them all—Luigi Ontani, who in his paintings resembles a man in his middle years with a small head, the "faux-coupe-de-Sade [a fake-faced French artist who had his own book published and hung in the public library in Paris] Taut, which is like a real-life representation of Taut, and Damián García Navarro. Most of the paintings in the show were done in black and white.
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