~NEON & CANDLES . . .
FILE UNDER: ABSO-FRIGGIN-LUTE . . . ‘SIMPLE’ BLACK & WHITE ‘GRAPHICS’ . . . as POWERFUL METAPHORS.
the flicker of a halfmoon-candle flame – against an all-black field . . . signifies: the BLACK & WHITE DESTRUCTIVE FORCE of … our otherwise ‘intelligent’ INTRA-SPECIES.
BIO-VIOLENCE . . . as it flickers and flares up.
as in HUMAN on HUMAN . . . GREED, VIOLENCE, WAR & DESTRUCTION.
WE ARE HUMAN, we b-u-r-n.
NEON AND CANDLES
SEPT 15-28, 2012
Mr. Fine Art – 105 Bowery, 3rd Floor, New York City (Lower East Side).
featuring the work of: BENJAMIN De CHANTERAC, JAMES ELLIOTT MOORE, and TIMOTHY STANLEY.
curated by: THOMAS ARSAC.
Mr. Fine Art is found on the almost top floor of one these buildings. actually, the one closer to the left, over the orange awning, on a deep dark and dank downtown strip of the Bowery, just off Canal.
SEPT 13, 3 days after still-dark 9-11 terrorist memories burned in as yet-unsoothed NYC, and 3 days after … we had all watched with horror as the American embassy lit the very sky with flames. 4 Americans killed, as it burst into outrageous violent flames – in that matchbox of a hell: BENGHAZI, LIBYA.
the night was even more marked. more harrowing, more theatrical, more dark & treacherous than usual, even on top of NYC’s 9-11, and the human toll/flames rising in Libya.
to get to Mr. Fine Art – a space, abso-friggin-lutely right OFF the art world charts, the wannabe visitor had to find a way through the teeming and untamed rowdy masses that feverishly consumed the blocked-off area – for the SAN GENNARO STREET FAIR.
if heading into the deep fringes of Chinatown on such a firecracker of a night didn’t spell: post-apocalyptic, MAD MAX / MOEBIUS futuristic & doomed underground . . . to see a show titled, ‘NEON AND CANDLES’ – and with absolutely no artworld pedigree, I don’t know . . . what would.
inside the old industrial loft building, the long steep hallway was conversely as bizarrely faceless and minimal – as the streets outside were rife with humanity, threat, and evil. this felt evil too. like being inside the . . . matrix.
once up the steel gray and cold, four or five long flights of stairs, you opened the ‘faceless’ door upon a forsaken scene . . . of total blackness. total black-out.
the very first thing my eyes could discern, was this totally black-light-lit – scenario of human death . . of hell on wheels, and I mean, specifically . . . on florescence tubes.
the future – as freak-out.
a huge human skull illuminated like a science fiction version of a fast-forward illuminated manuscript . . in a temple of doom.
it spoke to the . . . AFTERMATH of VIOLENCE.
it spoke to the finality of the bio-condition, except for the slow-to-degrade, bone of the skull.
it spoke to PROFOUND SADNESS, DESTRUCTION, EXPRESSION, and ironically: FUTURE VISION. it was like coming upon a campfire, except instead burning wood,it was fabricated raw white plaster, neon, and candles. that was . . . on fire.
it spoke to young men attempting to make profound statements.
as opposed to the hollow production that you mostly get to see, coming out of your ‘over-worked mainstream art world’ machine.
that predictable . . . listen to that cash register ping. thing. thang.
whatever. you know what I’m asayin’, and even if you don’t. you can guess.
but if you do, know . . . please don’t pretend that you don’t.
in the dark. this is how the room truly, looked. and glowed, deep purple and black.
eerie. deathly. you can just make out, the show’s curator, at left, THOMAS ARSAC and one of the artists, he of the skull and black light above – JAMES MOORE.
if Mr. Moore’s startling works . . . stood for a dismal future final, and I’m saying ‘future’, instead of past … because of the florescent tubing !! MR. STANLEY stood, literally, for the present. note the candle burning “in the present” – on the chair, beside him.
nobody could hear a damn thing he was saying, over the gallery din, and even if they could, they didn’t care and weren’t listening.
oh yeah, if that isn’t a metaphor for the PRESENT, I don’t know – what is.
BENJAMIN DE CHANTERAC was not present, he was in his homeland, FRANCE. (hello, PARIS !!)
the curator, also from FRANCE, THOMAS ARSAC was using this opportunity to debut his work in NYC. it was one piece, it was fresh off the factory – and it was awesome.
it was eloquent, it was mysterious, it was a road map to the unknown, and deviated (!!) future.
it was a time trip.
science fiction, CLOUD ATLAS ? . . . . though way more mutated, hello . . . planetary future shock !!
PHOTOS/COPYRIGHT: NANCY SMITH, NYC. SEPT 13, 2012
UP-DATE: THURS OCT 25, 2012 / 8:15 PM
FILE UNDER: HA !!
if you’re wondering about the sudden rash of ‘all black’ gallery shows with only black light aka purple light sources (!!) . . . witness the gallery invite fresh outta 109 in Brooklyn … tonite. ha.
it’s not …. a new ‘genre’, more like – lack of creative imagination at worst, unreferenced artistic dialog, at best.
(shades of Haim Steinbach – remember when everyone else was doing shelves-on-the-wall with stuff on them … after seeing his ?)
note to KENNY KOMER: who was at this EARLIER Mr. Fine Art all-black opening, and seems to be ‘spreading’ the ‘wealth’ at 109. “He who mocks the ‘point & shoot camera’ that has followed you around for the past ten years – will see cookie crumble.”
old Chinese proverb.
WE ARE HUMAN. we b-u-r-n.
POSTSCRIPT: in other words it’s not the ‘technology’, or the kind of camera, or ‘format’ – it’s always the brains & soul – behind the lens.
point and shoot – auto-focus, works fine for me !!
caught you – when nobody else had the brains to look, for even one second of play time.
what . . . do they teach you at Cooper Union, anyways ?