Wish it was red and white.
humm... and the best thing that happened was is spilling wine? Sounds like everyone feels the “have to” care about this show and there is no real enthusiam about it ever.
Isn't there a bunch of drama about one of the artists bellow being lifted because of some husband wife gallery currator thing? and a billion storys like that?
Anyone going to this? we would but feel lame crowdifobic. JD. looks more promising.
Conversations on Art
Introducing Day for Night - Sat March 04, 2006 to
Saturday, March 4 6pm
In this evening of three conversations, exhibiting artists join curators Chrissie Iles and Philippe Vergne to consider key currents in the show. Speakers weigh the uses of history or historical reference; political interventions and new modes of making art politically; and what the curators have dubbed “uncertain identities and unfixed images.”
One: Rirkrit Tiravanija and Mark di Suvero
Two: Jennifer Allora and Guillermo Calzadilla, DeeDee Halleck (Paper Tiger/Deep Dish Television), Matthew Day Jackson
Three: Otabenga Jones & Associates (Jabari Anderson, Jamal Cyrus, Kenya Evans, Robert A. Pruitt)
There is such a thing as a conversation equation.
Art 23: Lecture 13
ok. so mary boone. whats up? tragic! (HL still has a fantasy about combing ur hair) ... Inka. what happened? the myth-all-o-gee looks like it melted away into a day at spencers.
deitch. - keep on rockin in a free world!
i hear the whitney a callin. lets do it.
well that was not nearly as bad as i thought it would be from the online gems ... the bulk of it was more - well familiar. very, very familiar. You could visibly see the far but invisible hands of certain dealers, complete with at least one credibly offering corpse fucking twist quote from a Newspaper critic. The wall texts were misleading at best. first trip it feels more like a Art Fair then a Whitney-bi... i feel sightly unsure about the glib comment on work dealing with racial issues. and the political was ‘preachy'. At one point i asked my buddy how a great deal of the work was any different then my bedroom and he said it is 'far less scary'. I guess that is what i felt it lacked. if it was to be 'of the times’ it missed a certain ‘rage’ i feel lays in current america. There was alot of that kinda arts in craft/folkys crap faux tribalism that i thought already had its ‘day', i am so over it. 'The Freedom Tower’ was disgusting and felt really forced.
All that aside the film/video was impressive. There was a healthy mix of the generations. (however i grow weary of the sound of reverb sound tracks). There were some funny moments of bleed over with the cranked audio in the various rooms. I truly wanted to hate ‘Caligula’ after reading so many reviews but it really did live up to the hype, i thought it was very fresh and ‘of the time’ (but it is not like i made it to Venice bi). Cameron Jamie was fun and it looks like a pretty cool weekend film schedule.
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don't wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don't wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don't work
'Cause the vandals took the handles
The oscars are shaping up - glamours Betty Joan PERSKE is shaking with Alzheimers and ad libbing from the teleprompter.
John Stewart mad a nice jab at Hollywood, but its all pretty tame.- the opening monologue blew, just a throwaway entrance to a photomontage where they make all these cowboy movies seem homoerotic - meaning gay.
The Whitney Biennial looks like a calvalry charge gone bad. Soldiers are cutting at air. Whirling dirvishes dissolve into the ether. Anything solid is being broadcast from somewhere else.
Sure theres the Ziwirner room, The Wrong Gallery (Kreps and Gavin Brown) , the Team Room, the Williamsburg Welcome Wagon, yeah, its all there.
I entered the Whitney from the Western, entrance. (Memo to everyone: its a moat. OMG - you have to like a museum with a moat. The Guggenheim has an obnoxious revolving door. OMG a revolving door. And The Whitney has a grand atrium. OMG a grand atrium. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. OMG a grand atrium I love grand atriums like the Met, with flowers donated but not paid for out of the Museums opperating budget, I read once. So there needs to be another art show there to rival the Whitney, which is failing us.)
My enthusiasm for museums is unsurpassed. Sometimes god comes down and speaks to me in museums or museum like environments.
The Freedom tower is pathetic, planted in the moat - I hope I'm the only one that sees this planting idea so I can sell it as an interpretive object in the new cashless economy.
the walltext was great - i want a book of just the walltext - over at artnet I liked the pictures - reminds me of the folk art museum i never go to, but I should. so id buy the walltext if I was a grad student and I thought it might further my intellectual developemnt and progression to the higher plane. Otherwise I'd ask for it for Christmas. OMG Christmass. Kranky Klaus is FAN F'ING TASTIC!
You don't need no walltext for that video.
One of the signs of an opperating omegan is the size of the two circles that are formed by their trajectory around the eye sockets.
In the ordinary unenlightened person, the circle is rather small, or impreceptible, or often as not, non-existent.
A stone shibboleth by the elevator informed me that this was a show for locals, and I got the reference. So did you. Or you will. Or maybe you will never get it.
Money makes me feel loved, I decided drifting off one night, my belly full, my heart warmed with alcohol, my mind fed with thoughts of WINNING the Biennial.
CALIGULA was cool too.
What if you could WIN the biennial? What would it mean?
Castle for sale?
Or is it like just some mindless flash mob?
the a-sexual Whitney-Bi
Love ..... has left the arena
I disagree. Not only have I felt a deep discourse with the art nouveau but also with the bees that sing outside my ears. The mirror laughs back at me as I comb my locks over the stings in my eyebrows. The pain reminds me of my youth and being beaten with a cane by my grandfather. the pain never subsides but only increases when I look upon art in a cemetery. Here, I see my grandfathers self portrait resting at his tombstone. His locks were almost as long as mine. But he was not hiding his wounds.
Adam Williams is that you?
That was good. Honest.