this was a first time / debut exhibition . . for this young artist.

a sienna grey monotone, a site specific collage . . that looked to be pasted directly onto the raw wall.
it was both graphic, eroding, full of history, and . . political.
if you didn’t know Chinese, you didn’t know what the vertical banners said.

but even so, and perhaps, because of . . . this piece spoke to a lot of people.
I saw it pop-up in the online dialog that immediately sprung up, following the opening night . .

the other thing that struck me, from my vantage point of observing the cutting edge scene, the so-called ‘underground’ in NYC since the early 80s . . was how consistently some people just land like . . cats.
they land . . right on the thin fine line, the vibrating edge – in the heart of a huge scene within a huge ‘art’ focused city. the power of the individual voice vs the mass momentum.

for sure, that’s one of the things that makes covering the ‘frontier’ in New York so interesting, this consistent dynamic of landing so perfectly, in such a vast environment. and, making your ‘singularity’ mark.
New York is very very magical that way.

the piece worked just as perfectly, within the raw confines of the show – it was a ‘perfect’ storm.
from the the eroding wall, the old copper pipes overhead, to the reflections of new media, and light (!!) from the sides.

cut and paste.

the collage spoke of lost civilizations, eroding empires, history. the rites of time. entropy.
virtual time travel via the diverse cultural pathways of past artistic visions, & . . glories.
but: the American flag ?
upside-down. and in color. blood .. red.
and dying, seriously.

the piece seemed to be dominated by a heroic ‘sadness’.
a kind-of overall Greek tragedy blow-out. human civilization .. flawed. the Lotus eaters.
even ancient civilizations that were capable of such heights of artistic wonder, fall prey to political destruction.
and even on a personal destiny: we are born . . to fail. or at least, surely to struggle.
it made me think of Simon.
it made me think of JOE BRADLEY, and his abstract story, of last year. but still the same story: the Lotus Beaters.

and, the . . ferocious ancestors, they all knew:
walking on the face of the earth, is not such a gentle . . gambol, after all.

all the ancients knew this. Greek, Hindu, Mayan . . Minoan. whatever.

when people say . . a work of art is: authentic, this is what they mean.
it resonates . . without needing an accompanying verbal narrative.
it connects to an untapped, or unspoken knowing-ness, and willingness . . within the intuitive, collective unconscious of each individual viewer, who can walk away with his own . . message, and ‘meaning’.

the powerful magic of the piece . . seemed to find a ‘echo’, or a ‘sign’ . . in the eroding wall.
for sure, that was some ancient god’s all-seeing ‘eye’ . . hovering, a-b-o-v-e.


15 WARREN ST, 10007
MORE PIX, to follow.