The random chaos brings an ordered logic of emergent beauty in Brian’s generative pieces.

Result #1

The Tingling in a Clay Sculpture, 2000, consists of a large stone with a deeply wound, lightly chiseled surface. The carefully crafted, irregularly shaped shape suggests that this object is both an ornament and a wounded stone. The rounded edge suggests that the edge is being held in by a foreign force—the artist herself. This abstract sculpture is a microcosm for the world, one that is as disorienting and as chaotic as it is orderly and stable. On the other hand, if you look closely at the intricately crafted surface, it becomes clear that the stone is a fragile, semi-transparent bronze. We are told that the woman in the bronze sculpture is holding the hand of an unseen female figure. The significance of this gesture is unclear, but one might speculate that, when the clay was first cast, its intention was to be both a hand symbol and a prop for a stage set. The hand of the woman in the bronze sculpture is likewise visible. But if this work is about some drama, it is one that is so subtle that it can be ignored. Rather than becoming a scene of action, the clay itself is a passive sculpture, a blank surface that is both a vessel and a receptacle of possibilities.

Result #2

The forms are always clearly legible as abstracted drawings or scribbled notes.The aesthetic of these drawings—which was the artists way of suggesting that they were not drawings of anything—was one of the most engaging aspects of the show. The drawing A Rose, 2010, is a riff on the legendary drawing A Rose, a half-length self-portrait of the artist. A red roses rose was written across the edge of the drawing. Brian’s red roses are often represented as beige, green, or yellow, but it is hard to discern whether they are blue or green, or if they are just an ordinary object that has been made to suggest a rose. While the red roses are typically placed at the edge of the drawing, they are also depicted as sprays, like the city-state of Dresden. The red roses also seem to be emanating from the viewers head, and they are also seen from afar—like a glowing neon sign. In this drawing, a red rose appears to be being created by an arrow, and the arrow is pointing away from the drawing. The arrow itself is visible to a cross-section of the drawing. Here, the arrow is a dark reflection of the drawing, and the red rose is in the center of the canvas, like a lighthouse. While the arrow is clearly a metaphor for the artist, the reference to the lighthouse suggests that the red rose is, in fact, a solitary rose in a forest.

Result #3

The work is, however, not only about the visible, but about the mind as well. We see that the eyes are different from the three-dimensional eyes, and that they are so often found in nature. For all the stars in the sky, there are other eyes—those of other stars, of the earth, of the soul.This is not to suggest that the subject of art is in itself a mystery. The self is not merely a mystery to itself, and art is just as mysterious as the self. The mystery of art is the mystery of the art. The art is itself a mystery, but so is the art that shows it, and that reveals it. Art is not simply the absence of art, but the presence of art. The art is the absence of art, but it is also the presence of an art that is both the absence of art and that reveals its presence. It is this presence that brings to mind the point of departure for the self-portraits, the starting point for the self-portraits. What is the point of a sign that says, Im going to the airport; the plane is there. It is a sign that could never be taken for an art work; it is the absence of the sign that carries it beyond the borders of art.

Result #4

The random chaos brings an ordered logic of emergent beauty in Brian’s generative pieces. In such a sense, the artist had reached the end of the path in which his work had begun. So he kept looking for an answer to the problem he had set up: how to paint the color of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface, and of the surface. And so he found, for a moment, a way of going on painting. And so he painted the surface, and the surface of the work, and then the surface of the paintings and everything else, and nothing happened. But it was like some of the chaos that the universe produced in the beginning, a bit of chaos that the world, or our world, has produced. And this chaos is not chaos, though. Chaos is, if anything, the ordered behavior of the unpredictable, which is what we as humans are. It is a world order that we make and that is determined by us. And the world in which the order of the random is located is one that is, in a sense, organized chaos, and that is the source of all order. The order of the random is that which is organized in a way that preserves the individual and the social, and that is the source of all order. And so the chaos of the random is the order that is preserved, and the individual and the social, and they are preserved in a state of continuous creation and destruction.The fact that the paintings and everything else is not chaos, and that the paintings are not random, does not make them any less beautiful. They still have the appearance of chaos, though. What the chaos is, is not the order of the random, however, but a state of coexistence, of coexistence of things, and that is what the paintings, in their original state of being, are.

Result #5

There are no narratives, only chance encounters, and the viewers senses are stimulated. They find their place in the world and in the museum, where they have a spotty chance to discover it. As a result, the sense of being a visitor is heightened, even enjoined. A hand is placed on a head in Bacons September, 2005, and it has been cast by a sphere in his hand. In this, Bacons latest work, a tiny, curved metal disk is placed directly beside the viewer, hovering between an ungainly straight piece of fabric and a static, straight line. The spiral of the metal rod is framed by a white strip that hides the back of the viewer, which is then surrounded by a silver frame. This works on two levels: one is a metaphor for the viewers own sense of desolation in the face of such a curatorial agenda and a temporal dislocation of time. The other is a tribute to the artists determination to create a space that is both sacred and human.Bacons work has always been about the human condition, but in this case, he also examines the nature of the human body. At the same time, the gesture of painting implies the participation of the viewer in the process of life, and Bacons formal investigations take as their source the body itself. It is precisely through the mediation of the body that the artist can ask questions about the nature of painting, and about the presence of space in the arena of art. Bacons works embody the way in which we are affected by time, by the impact of events and the passage of time, and by our responses.