David C. Scher


Painter said...

David C. Scher @
PIEROGI 2000 Brooklyn
177 North 9th Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211

zipthwung said...

Muddy palette, mannered brush stroke. Painter you are a genius. Last three.

Can you commodify your dissent? Indeed.

These are anarchic visions hiding the inner rage of the blue collar artist.

zipthwung said...

Not my sense of humor. Like my pops - corny shit.
Still, my pops has an alter ego, which is weird because not many people will admit to it. Lacan has some stuff to say about alter egos.

zipthwung said...

Actaully its going back to Erica Svec and beyond.
It says "fine art"

I dont think I like "fine art" with its cornball humor and phoney hair straightener attitude.

Im more into righteous and fucking hard core. Go for the jugular man. Dont give me a pastiche of Sunday Painting Through the Ages.

its like Pynchon mellowed and started writing the Big Chill in a non-linear intersubjective sort of way with good feel good characters like a Tom Robbins chick flick. WHo wants that?

zipthwung said...

"Such dark themes fit the drawings' fragile style.


Im ready for my psychotic break now.

camron said...

Do you mean Lacon?

zipthwung said...


or maybe John Sayles.

"The subject engages in a certain activity with the purpose of achieving a well-defined goal; in this he fails since the final result of his actions is different, totally unintended state of things that, however, would not have been brought about had the subject aimed directly at it."

closeuup said...


"'O my poor people,
Men of Troy, what madness has come over you?
Can you believe the enemy truly gone?
A gift from the Danaans, and no ruse?
Is that Ulysses' way, as you have known him?
Achaeans must be hiding in this timber,
Or it was built to butt against our walls,
Peer over them into our houses, pelt
The city from the sky. Some crookedness
Is in this thing. Have no faith in the horse!
Whatever it is, even when Greeks bring gifts
I fear them, gifts and all.'"

zipthwung said...

Love thy symptom as thyself

closeuup said...

Tell me where blue collar comes into play with this Scher painting?

zipthwung said...

The postmodern cultural artifact—the "critique," the "incredulity"—is itself merely a symptom/commodity/fetish. Thus has capital commodified even the cynicism that purports to unmask its "reality," to "emancipate."

zipthwung said...

Reminds me of "Falling Down" - you know, theres a darkness on the edge of town, and its name is Chip and its word is law.

zipthwung said...

Blue is the new white.
coffee table magazine. You know, the New Yoiker.

closeuup said...

That's great then I'm positioned. I never saw falling Down, but my bosses name is Chip

zipthwung said...


poppy said...

this reminds me of a van gogh i once saw. his was better....
i am responding to the response of my ramblings which is how i describe it because this isn't art class and i fucked off in that too...
but i say subject matter is important..above all it seems to be what people most respond to.. and of course everything has subject matter..
as for the dog below i didn't respond..yet thought pretty solidly painted.. still i say sowhat if its solid if i don't respond.. personally i like things that i wouldn't or could not think of myself. then i like to steal it..and pretend i thought of it myself.. who's with me? i would steal a few things from this guy probably..

someone says me ridiculous... to that i say so-what??......i still want to make fuck with you bezerker all the more because of it....my mother doesn't post here....i'll start caring when she does..

poppy said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Cooky Blaha said...

this guy was friends with bernard buffet and raoul dufy then he died

zipthwung said...

chicomacho brings up some interesting points, previously which i will try to address off and on ad nauseum.

The second point, which I have no fucking problem with is fuckin' content. I dont think art has to be about pain, or pain or even pain. It can be about FUCKING, too.

But the primary point - Art is primarily about Fucking. Which is true. I have no FUCKING problem with art primarily about FUCKING. Fucking right the fuck on (im not even buzzed brah!) I am so fucking for real on this one.

Fucking off for example - its about fucking time, figuratively and literally speaking.

But not for you. Just for me. Im the elitist fuc king. The uber burger royale with cheese. Call me joe one brush - I paint with broad stipes, because hair splitting just means you ruin the stroke. Better yet, just use your fingers. WE can call it the new york sticky fingers style. We can make sensitive poetic haiku about sniffing glue.

Marx bleats: To Each according to their ability and to each according to their needs. Well I like needles for teeth, Quislings and sizzlings, bacons and brain pans, sugar and spice, I like naughty and I like nice. I can berzerk, berzer and berzerk. I can berzer and finally, I berzerk. What is my nature? Can i go against it? Sure. I can- Someone called people niggers because they were heckling and they were black and they were in the sacred circle, the circle where I can say whats on my mind, but I broke the rule - I must hold their attention. I failed. They heckled me.

I should have SLAYED them. I would have fucking NAILED their coffins SHUT. I could have mailed them to the dead letter office.

If I did it? If I did it? If I did it? No I lost it. I had to leave. I wasnt sure I got it.

adatrop said...

the problem is admitting to defeat, to relentlessly giving in to the Man and saying that it was all a mistake - and there in a pit of despair - ultimately removing it from its context.
this could not be any more alienating as an experience however, this painting, if that is what we shall call it.
static and dead, maybe that is the point, but it falls on blind eyes, gorged out at that, and Ponty can keep his perception on this one.
defeat-ed and done.

cathy said...

Where's Waldo?

closeuup said...

One after another they have closed the heavy iron doors upon him, and now they have him, as it were, bolted in with a lock of a hundred keys, which can never be unlocked without the concurrent of every key; the keys in the hands of a hundred different men, and they scattered to a hundred different and distant places; and they stand musing as to what invention, in all the dominions of mind and matter, can be produced to make the impossibility of his escape more complete than it is.

ad3pt said...

this is really stagnant to me, content wise, palette wise.