feeling dark green brown, dirt in a luxurious sphere, the grounded shadow of the ground, in a plastic sun. a hug to the inhospitable sailor. the mild haze of the invisible tactile

Result #1

feeling dark green brown, dirt in a luxurious sphere, the grounded shadow of the ground, in a plastic sun. a hug to the inhospitable sailor. the mild haze of the invisible tactile orb, a layer of black carbonite over a warm white ground. a tiny, basic spherical form, a murky, kinky, multicolored form, a sphere of color, a warm, Oriental-influenced shag. . . . a colorless light, a vapor of colors over a dark, retrograde space. The artists favorite material is granite—so bland and easy. it is only the closest thing to preciousness that is at this moment so dazzlingly personal, with the beauty of it, and the beauty of it all, in a bright, pretty monochrome.The picture landscape is, to be sure, perfectly significant. A garden or a garden in a garden is a perfect metaphor for the luminous forms of the whole picture, from a distance, and for those who look at the sky—a couple of (possibly) silly square-headed ladies in pale pink and gold, one sunbaked one and a teddy bear; a slightly strange pair of dancers, split-off, by a single black line on their feet—even a couple of houses, each built on a dead-end half-moon, half-parcel (a reference to figures from an old-school sunset sequence), and a patch of the land painted flatly with the same colors, a neutral, mid-fifties neutral that almost negates the transcendental, even transcendental nature of the image.The true beauty of these pictures is that, while they have been made for the pictorial modern world, and they stand out not for their reason, but for their particular, precise, and handsome taste—that is, their earnestness. And it is a sense of this genuine sincerity that animates this show.

Result #2

feeling dark green brown, dirt in a luxurious sphere, the grounded shadow of the ground, in a plastic sun. a hug to the inhospitable sailor. the mild haze of the invisible tactile elements. a faint suggestion of trees in an ochre sky. the grisaille in an orange field. a grey-green sheet of paper on which a garden giantess overcomes the imposing barrier of the building. a blue-gray plane, not yet half-glimpsed as a sky, which is intermittently torn away in the wind. a black-and-white sheet of paper, untouched by brush, in which the island of the sky begins again. a gray plane, on which a tree is destroyed with a single big lollipop. a black plane, a sphere, in which the black sky is seen only in a split second, and in the right hand, as a bird is, above the top of a sand castle; but in the left hand, the sky is literally painted over. This paper-thin paper, printed on the back of a canvas, is too white for the black; the canvas becomes opaque, almost completely concealing the print. The line is the sky, the plane the trees. With a third element—one of these objects has a silhouette of a person—these details are made to dance. At the same time, however, the silhouette is nothing more than the half-lightening of the landscape by a kind of natural border, a human shadow.In fact, there is a vision of exile, of post-Baroque times. Here the alien is an anvil—imposing and self-defeating—which is supported by the empty pedestal which makes up the sculpture, which stands for the mere presence of an event. There is also a line that connects it to the black plane, which dominates the distance between the two.The black is the only color that fails, and at that distance, in a way, it is the only one which cannot connect with the landscape, of which the black is the horizon.

Result #3

feeling dark green brown, dirt in a luxurious sphere, the grounded shadow of the ground, in a plastic sun. a hug to the inhospitable sailor. the mild haze of the invisible tactile grass and the pointed shadow of the field. In Abstraction—Spectation, the sky is green and the field is white; the sky is green, the field is white, the sky is white, the field is white, the sky is black, the field is black, the sky is black, the field is black, the sky is white, the sky is black, the sky is white, the sky is white, the sky is white, the sky is white. Abstraction—Spectation is a sort of uncropped photo-op, a form of shot and capture. Theres nothing to see, just shadows. When theres nothing there, theres only shadows. Theres nothing there, but there is the problem of having no one there at all.Blackened in the end, theres a small circle of light, about 5 feet long and 8 feet across, that shines across the gallery. The light is from the sky. Abstraction—Spectation is a sort of background. The circle is seen in the distance. The circle is small, and is a sort of locator in itself. The circle is a kind of observer, a timer, a tester, a nudger. The circles light reflects off the ground, into the circle and into a wall on the opposite side of the gallery. Abstraction—Spectation is a sort of frame. The frame is the circles light, the place where it was, and the frame is a part of the circle, not an outside part.The circle seems to be a passage, a point in the circle. As Abstraction—Spectation demonstrates, it has no color. It looks black. The shadows of the circle and the sky are reflected off the ground and into the wall. The circle is bright and dramatic, bright light, but without the drama. The circle, the circle, the circle—the blackness.

Result #4

and visible forces. the neurotic cerebral monstrosity of a prehistoric ego. I dont know what to make of the increasingly hinged exhibition format, which essentially looks like a gallery by contrast with what I would take to be the kind of all-artist show a museum would undertake. At the same time, I wonder whether the various roles rendered by the cubes might not also have the effect of anticipating the ways in which artistic production might intersect with real life. (Ceccopo attuned to the mental contortions of mind and gestures.) Despite the fact that the world is getting smaller, the grid, as a memory in which all can coexist, is being superseded by a high-energy, zero-gravity world which is as infinitely multifarious as any other. The grid is being replaced by the matrix of pleasure, the network of feedback, and the graphic of the parallel and the destination; therefore, this process of evolution, which holds us all in its disarming and electrifying power, is still present in these works.

Result #5

feeling dark green brown, dirt in a luxurious sphere, the grounded shadow of the ground, in a plastic sun. a hug to the inhospitable sailor. the mild haze of the invisible tactile push, like some layer of anamorphosis of planes of glass. the creeping crackle of the scent of the air and of plants. the seepage of a smell that reaches you down the throat as you suck it in, and at the other side you forget the scent and focus on the feeling of your own hollow heart. The artist reveals himself in these measures, but he doesnt care about us and we care very little. The art itself finds its own way, and the idea is to live with the sensations and sensations we experience, to know what it is that is happening and to know how to deal with it. In the end, the feeling is the same as the sensation of the sensation.Oberkocke uses these gestures in the way that the love of traveling does, but he brings them to the right place. His work has no intended humor, because the point of travel is to travel to the other. To travel to a place that seems like home, to travel by means of time and space that are discrete and specific and are carried out according to rules of behavior. Oberkocke uses travel as a means to probe the feelings that travel through time and space, but he also investigates how we respond to experiences and signs in time and space.Travel has always been a constant in Oberkockes work. As early as 1976 he carried a moustache and an umbrella in a backpack on a journey. As the traveler becomes a nonhuman being, the suitcase becomes the traveler. The journey becomes a journey, a place, a space. Oberkocke avoids any normal perspective, which would produce pictures of everyday objects. His objects, whether boats, street signs, streets, streetscape, or transport trucks, are carefully arranged to create an itinerary of circulation. In this way, they approach the situation of the other.