Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Dry

It may be the nearest thing to a scientifically accurate boredom /idle curiosity index, how long it takes you to decide if you'll click on an unbidden TP to an art opening. The funny part is that you'll almost always find little there to relieve either sensation.
The person who tp's you in will definitely not speak to you, they are way too busy sending IMs and group messages, and let's face it, you're nothing more than a single steer in the giant cattle drive of worshipers.
The artist, woozy from all that ego massaging, will spare you a comment perhaps, but rarely anything cogent.
The other people present are mostly interesting from a sociological, rather than artistic, point of view, and usually break down into the bitchy schoolgirl cliques, fawning Empty Nesters, wonderfully dry sarcastic IM'ers, and characters rather like un-moored Zeppelins with 'Don't You Know Who I Am?' stencilled on the side. A colossal, lonely, largely insubstantial presence. And then of course, there's you. It's always nice to run into you at a show.

Of all the curators who've come and gone over the years, and omg there have been many, Asmita Duranjaya is one of the few who doesn't feel like she is a woman of little talent (beyond trumpeting) basking in reflected glory. She has real credentials, in art, and music, and community building. Her invitation to the MBK Gallery seemed worth a gamble. The show is Hearts on Holiday by Reezy Frequency. OK the guy with what look like breasts and panties over his brown jean, I have no idea what's going on there.

Asmita's a good bet, and the Meisterbastler (how is that not a double entendre??) chapel did look a treat from the outside, almost along Jennifer Steinkamp lines. Hearts on Holiday is what it sounds like, joyous, positive, alluring. The sculptures were of the notsomuch kind that almost any Resident can find in their own inventory from the days when they first discovered how to twist a torus. But the 2D work is interesting, jumping from sunshiny swirls to blue nudes.
I completely get it that some people need to bask in immediate praise to feel like they're making something worthwhile. It's not true, as DC Antonelli tried to insist the other day, that unseen art isn't art at all. A Leonardo in the cupboard is no less a piece of crafted beauty than an overexposed Color Field (aka paint drying pointlessly) - in fact, surely more. Unseen brilliance is like a tree falling in the forest -yes, it does make a noise, regardless. If you could deduct from his fans all the people with minimal talent in painting and drawing who have delusions of fame and fortune, Mark Rothko would have been popular with like 2 people, both within his immediate family. His charm is the same as that of the Lottery, and appeals to the same class of folk.

Gallery openings are better than watching paint dry, but not always. Much better to drop in later, and check out Reezy's art for yourself. And don't forget Asmita and co's Sim, Space 4 Art, where dozens of talents have their studios.

No comments: