‘You may not think about the blue of a mailbox nor would you think about the color of the George Washington Bridge as you traverse it, but they are particular, maintained and applied colors.’
The press release deciphers the scattered steel letters on wall mounted slabs as saying, “empty pools,” “undisturbed air,” and “remembered skies.”
Whether these are or are not the lyrics to a Pavement song is debatable.
The wood grain on concrete panel looks like other art that’s interested in architecture.
What’s more interesting is how these things happen, how they end, and where things go when it’s over. The exhibition is careful to call itself “a look here now” but it can’t help feeling a bit like a eulogy. Theme-less but not without visible affinities, for the most part the work is smart, sometimes serious. Often playful but not without rigor. Sometimes surprisingly refined for coming from an experimental artists’ space. But one gets the impression that these are people who care about what they’re doing.
Seen together, the works seem strangely familiar, but its uncertain if this familiarity is due to the recognizable style of the New Yorker cartoons, or because they have been similarly appropriated before. Without being able to think of a specific example, one gets the feeling that it has been done and redone and done again, and that this recontextualization is not likely the last. If the saying, ‘Those who don’t know history often end up repeating it,’ could be adapted to art it might read, ‘Those who know art history often end up repeating it.’ But the question shifts, too: in what ways is it new?