“With film, you have sound and you can construct this whole environment that allows for a certain feeling to exist for someone watching. There’s more of a burden on a painting to develop these kinds of feelings or experiences in one frame.”
Takashi Makino’s thirty-minute film 2012—screened as part of the New York Film Festival’s Projections series in October—drenches the audience with sounds of prolonged resonant scraped string textures and images of shimmering blue clouds of drifting particles.
“The absurdity of this material’s resistance made me want to work with the plastic, the peels. The plastic is part of us, part of me and my contribution, too, even if not directly. Plastic is estranged from me, but it is me.”
How do I write on another painter without the jargon or obscure art-speak? I have no idea.
“Observations, errors, + corrections” is a series of drawings I began in 2009 based on observations of the environments or situations I find myself in.
Roberto Juarez on the way that Robert Brinker’s paper cutouts balance warm, Disney-like comfort with strident sensuality.
At the heart of Julie Mehretu’s paintings is a question about the ways in which we construct and live in the world. Perhaps that is what makes the work so radical: its willingness to unravel the conventionally given answers about the violent environment we inhabit today.
In spite of his six-foot-plus height, you might easily overlook James Welling in a crowded room. With his shaggy gray hair and tortoiseshell glasses, he looks every bit the UCLA tenured professor that he is.
Steve DiBenedetto forces a lot of perspectives into his pictures. As he puts it, “I like to put in too many skies.”
Andrew Roy uses eccentric material and has a keen eye for distinct color and minute detail.