Kim Brown, owner of Greenpoint Hill (Photo: Nicole Disser)
For the most part, Greenpoint artists fly under the radar, and they seem to prefer it that way. Walking along Franklin Avenue last night, a street I walk every day, I caught a glimpse of a painters studio I’d never seen before. It was bathed in red light, hidden inside an industrial building.
“Definitely my whole approach toward the art world is a little quieter,” explained Kim Brown, the owner of Greenpoint Hill, a brand new gallery/retail shop that just opened near the waterfront last week.
The former Pfizer plant at 630 Flushing Avenue on the Bushwick/Bed-Stuy/Williamsburg border is odd and massive, a veritable maze sporting a slew of office culture flyers and a strange sterile smell. No longer a biopharmaceutical plant, the building still mostly looks that way, making it a unique and sometimes strange home for local food companies, office workers, and also, art. Last week, the Re:Art show opened, transforming the fifth floor of the building into a massive art display. Some work was spread out over large hallways or slyly hidden among machinery, but in one mighty room was the vibrant “Fatter IRL” show, showcasing only work by artists who identify as fat.
“Why I Want To Fuck Donald Trump” on view now at Joshua Liner Gallery (Photo courtesy of Joshua Liner Gallery)
Last week’s video of Donald Trump bragging about sexual assault threw a giant dildo into a campaign that seemed impervious to shame, just as the candidate had almost started seeming more presidential (at least, in light of the spotty track record of previous presidents). As screwed up as the whole thing is, nothing in the video was all that surprising. The “locker room talk” only confirmed Trump’s image as a billionaire playboy who trades skyscrapers (his most phallic assets) like Pokémon cards, and gets whatever his little Trump desires.
“His whole image is vulgarly sexual in a way,” agreed Alfred Steiner, the curator of a very timely new art show. “And he’s played right into that the whole time.”
An attendee of “The Hidden Valley” over the weekend looks on at a performance by Wild Torus (Photo: Nicole Disser)
If you’ve been to Wild Torus events before, it’s likely you know all about their marathon performance-art benders and messy parties. Guests are necessarily a part of the events involving immense creation and destruction within the same night (or 48-hour marathon). My first Torus encounter was a mind-jostling, brain-crushing, chaotic mess. It was a crush of humanity, all soaked in sweat, and stuck with gloopy, sticky materials, under an onslaught of hypnotic drumming, loud-as-hell discordant synth drone, and anything and everything you can imagine.
“Black Pulp!” on view now at IPCNY (Flyer courtesy of IPCNY/ Mark Thomas Gibson and William Villalongo)
I’m ashamed to say, The International Print Center New York, or IPCNY always gets tangled up in my brain with ICP– as in, yes, the Insane Clown Posse. But one thing you’re definitely not gonna find at IPCNY right now are white people dressed up like murderous clown folk who have yet to grasp some of the most basic, life-on-Earth concepts such as “stuff falls when you let go of it” and “some metal things stick together.” Instead, you’ll find a historically-minded, mind-mining show dedicated to a critical exploration of black identity in America from 1912 to the present by way of pulp.
Even if GIFs are objectively one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to the internet, not everyone gets them. Humorless turds say that these grainy, animated loops are a passing fad, and a medium that’s prone to idiocy. Haters will continue to hate, but one criticism actually feels a bit true: GIFs lack nuance and are far too fleeting to communicate anything of substance. They’re the perfect metaphor for the kids-these-days refrain that our attention spans are shrinking. One recent and oft-repeated study conducted in Canada found that 2,000 participants, on average, measured a mind-bogglingly brief attention span of 8 seconds. Supposedly this means that in a competition between humans and goldfish, we’d lose to the fish.
Rezatron, “The Real Belcher Family.” (image courtesy of Spoke Art)
Last week, hundreds swarmed a Lower East Side gallery. They diligently lined up to see Bob, Linda, Louise, Tina, Gene, and others from beloved animated series Bob’s Burgers, immortalized within 75 works of art. Inside, the air was warm with bodies and beef (sliders were served all evening courtesy of Bareburger) and a certain delight pervaded the space. The gallery’s back wall was transformed into a life-size version of Bob Belcher’s animated restaurant counter, complete with actual ketchup and mustard bottles.
As we previously told you, artist Brian Andrew Whiteley will be bringing his notorious Donald Trump Tombstone to a formal gallery space tonight, in Bushwick. The solo show, which will display the original tombstone as well as a grave rubbing made in collaboration with “master printer” James Stroud and photographs of the stone’s original installation by Ventiko, is presented by Christopher Stout Gallery.
Even hazy patrons bumbling their way out of opium dens– if the dope cave hadn’t been replaced by frou frou cocktail bars– would have had a hard time missing a gallery boom like the one currently going down in Chinatown. Increasingly fancy art palaces are moving in, bringing with them pristine minimalism and white-walled remove, which presents a pretty dramatic departure from the existing chaotic density of saggy red-yellow-and-smog-colored awnings, old ladies in bucket hats hustling meat sticks, careening unmarked buses hiding in alleyways that you didn’t know New York City had, murky fish tank smells, frenetically blinking neon signs, and countless aging storefronts overflowing with sun-bleached gecko supplements, acupuncture diagrams, and yellowing, curly-edged Chinese calendars.
‘Soundlessness,’ 2016 (Courtesy of Lorna Simpson and Salon 94
Lorna Simpson is returning to Salon 94 for her third exhibition at the Bowery gallery. The Brooklyn-born artist became well-known in the mid-’80s for her large-scale works combining photography and textual elements with watercolor, ink, or acrylic paint, and creating nuanced statements on contemporary society’s perception of race, gender, and identity. Her show at Salon 94, opening September 8, will feature a number of paintings that premiered in the 55th Venice Biennale.