Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Al photos courtesy the author.
The simple goal of this post is to prove that St. Louis has the best springtime landscape ever, anywhere.
A range of colors and shapes.
Upright habit, cascading habit.
Pinkish purple, purple pink, whitish yellow, yellowy orange.
We've got it all.
Dense and open, closed and pop-y.
And I'm allergic to every single one.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Forrest Bess at the Whitney Biennial. All photos courtesy the author.
This Bess photo is a bit skewed because I had to snake around the clutch of folks crowding in on each of the works in this Bob Gober-curated show, the best part of the Biennial. Call me jaded: the objects were not as interesting as the performative gestures. Performa has done a great job pushing NY's museums into recognizing one of the most powerful motivating genres of the post-war period (a little late though, huh?)
Leonard Peltier, Horse Nation, 2011.
Paint-by-number? Native Nations activist / political prisoner Leonard Peltier's work was included in another artist's installation. Irregardless (yes, it's a legal word, look it up) of what the installation was, there was something sad and fierce about this work against the feigned faux works around it (except the Bess). The political bent of the Whitney was coming out--thank goodness. In the arts we've learned that being polite doesn't get us anything--look at how arts councils and tax deductions are being used as a punching bag at the state and federal levels--perhaps it's time to loot and burn, take no prisoners?
I read the labels, I swear! Why did nothing stick? I liked the materials, scale and scope of this. It's an image for you to enjoy.
John Miller, Suburban Past Time, 2012.
John Miller at Metro Pictures investing the middlebrow culture of Middle America. Funny, biting, but you don't almost don't need art to point out the artifice of suburban lives, the tragedy writes itself!
Pae White at The Independents.
One of the best mobiles by Pae--the top of each element was mylar, reflecting the color materials above it. Glorious confusion and movement.
Why do fairs not put names / titles up? I see why galleries at The Independents don't--the space is too wacky, like a tricked out high school gym. There was energy, a crush and some excellent works. Bingo!