Opening Thursday, June 1 at The Flag Art Foundation. On view through August 11.
Hate it or love it, one newspaper that has rocketed even more to the forefront of the public eye in the past year is the Times. From the president’s dismissal of it as failing to its recent scoop battle with The Washington Post and even today’s announcement that it has eliminated its public editor position in favor of opening more of their articles’ comment sections, there is much to talk about.
This art exhibition goes even further than the paper’s recent goings-on, asking over 80 artists to use current and archival issues of the physical newspaper as a jumping-off point to create works of their own. Some imagine what the headlines would be in 2020, some insert themselves into the news, and others take a second look at press coverage of major historical and sociopolitical events. If the news wasn’t already on your mind constantly, this show could do the trick.
Return To Me
Opening Friday, June 2 at Equity Gallery, 6 pm to 8 pm. On view through July 15.
It may seem ambitious to embark on an art project that tackles the entirety of the world’s history, but Polish artist Margaret Inga Urías is boldly taking on such a challenge. Her solo show Return To Me has its limbs intertwined with science and research, using multiple artistic disciplines from glass sculptures to sound art and beyond to showcase how the smallest of bits help the very earth keep turning.
A soundscape details “the interactions of electromagnetic particles from the solar wind, ionosphere, and various planets’ magnetospheres,” while the history of dust and its importance gets carved into glass and more. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, so the saying goes, and this show may teach you how.
The Fictional Geometry of Self Castration
Opening Friday, June 2 at Brooklyn Fire Proof Main Gallery, 7 pm to 10 pm.
When we last checked in with Christopher Stout and his titular gallery, he was showing Brian Andrew Whiteley’s notorious Trump tombstone. During our conversation, he mentioned finding a new space, but declined to delve into details. While Stout is still curating at Brooklyn Fire Proof on Ingraham Street, it appears he has re-branded his gallery. Boasting a new name (ADO Project) and nonprofit status, the gallery appears to have been inspired by the subversive nature of the Trump tombstone and today’s political climate. “ADO” stands for “art during the occupation,” and a statement notes the rebranding “serves as a constant statement of protest against our current national leadership.”
This exhibit once again unites Stout and his gallery with the artist Josh Kil. An array of Kil’s sculptures will be on view, but they won’t all stay standing by the time the show closes. Kil has been posting a survey on his website asking the public which of his sculptures they want to be saved from destruction. I’m not sure what sculptures have to do with the political administration, but there’s sure been a whole lot of destruction.
Prison Tattoos As Fine Art
Opening Saturday, June 3 at Fleur Noire Tattoo Parlour, 8 pm to midnight. One night only.
Showing tattoo art in galleries, or even displaying art in the shops themselves, is nothing new. But this Williamsburg tattoo shop is going even more specific with this exhibition. They will be displaying DIY tattoos by Joaquin Motor that have been emblazoned onto silk fabric. Stick-and-pokes, DIY tattoos, prison tattoos, whatever you want to call them, they’ll be there. Specifically, Motor’s work takes (or rather, rips, since we’re being violent) a page from the book of Russian prison tattoos. That’s timely.
However, the actual proposed content of the exhibit makes me raise an eyebrow or three. “By adorning such fragile textiles with symbols of ignorance and hatred, Motor confronts the paradox of the hardened criminal,” the event description states. I’m interested in what “symbols” attendees will actually be looking at when they arrive. Will there be teardrops meant to adorn faces, or something as blatant in its hate as full-out swastikas? Or is the mere notion of a tattoo being done while incarcerated violence in itself? The exhibition says it hopes to incite a dialogue about the mingling of low culture and high culture, and seeing as I’m already grappling with it and the show isn’t even open yet, perhaps they’ve succeeded.