Georganne Deen @Amy Smith-Stewart53 Stanton Street New York, NY 10002
I think I like the painting (on the wall above the sofa) in the painting more than the painting itself.Also at first I thought they were taking a bath together and that I liked more than just lovin on the couch.Is this a dig at the japanese artists, equating their characters with sloth, laziness?
I expect there's an issue of Cat Fancy on the coffee table. Am I right? WHats witht hte childrens book illustration nostalgia dealio? Its like a white hankerchied of domesticity waived from the sterile fortress of bohemian rigour. No thanks, the spartans need to live strong.
Seems I spoke too soon about the Donald Roller Wilson blow-back.Yeouw!To speak roundly, or circularly, I mean.
...and retrospectively speaking, naughty betty sure does kick some monkey azz.
first I want to say that I feel like I know all of you; andyet I have mut not one of you., . . . What a miracle theinternet is ., . and what a farbulous community glayart hasbecome.this post is to all you very knowledgeable glay chemists; Ihad a problematic bisque firing recently.I;m was an old vUlcan kIln small round kiln and shortlyafter I began the firing two out of the five elements wentcompletely. I know this because I heard them go, and thefiring was just beginning and I opened up and peaked. Idecided to go forward and see if the three elements wouldmake it on their own.
Okay. What the fuck is this?
Please don't describe the picture to me. I know WHAT it is. But, what the fuck!
do some research people. la luz de jesus. devo. magaret keane. jimbo. al's bar. lancelot link secret chimp. vogue. tim burton. ann magnuson. marie antoinette & tammy wynette. fattys. bad seed. mark ryden. caspar the friendly ghost.
i always wondered if the "sloath" was on some kind of spiritual plane... all it needs is some tweed
I love this painting. I love the whole idea, whatever it is. I love painting so much more than a bunch of Germans living in a museum in Israel with lice living in their scalps. Sometimes art is art and life is life and it isn't always vice versa.
Hi ems! Are you managing to stay cool? I suggest getting a big bowl of vanilla ice cream and sitting in it. With no pants.
Whose apartment is it?
is this an allegory?
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Georganne Deen paints embarrassingly personal narratives in a lyrical, sincere, and dramatic manner. That takes guts. She makes me cringe. I love her.
I am cringing and I feel no love.You can weave whatever narrative bullshit you want about this paiting or read it as an allegory but it is wan, surrealist, and inconsequential. It is a text-free New Yorker cartoon.
A sloth!Ha ha ha.
it's an ethos. between the lines of all this horrific consequence people still find humor, joy and a way of life
Will somebody get this big walking carpet out of my way?-Princess
He gets ‘Mack the Knife’ and that’s cool, and she gets ‘Cruz Missile’ and that’s bad? J'accuse! J'accuse! Oh wait no one is saying that but me.Marc Chagall always bugged me. Probably because Jewish peasants are unremittingly sentimental. I know sometimes sentiment is all they have but still, the fantasy is grating on those for whom fate has chosen a road of hard labor, many, many risks, little houses, prairies, precious little angels and more hard hard hard labor.
The passages that are most frequently cited as reasons for removing the book from libraries are: "[That week] I touched my special place practically every night. It was the only way I could fall asleep and besides, it felt good." [p. 90] and "Usually I take a shower and get out as fast as I can, but I liked the feeling of relaxation and I rubbed my special spot with my wash cloth until I got that special feeling." [pg.97] These, along with a discussion about menstruation and masturbation on the following few pages led by a gym teacher, are the core of the objections to the novel. The book is is otherwise usually described as insightful and accurate in portraying a young girl dealing with her diagnosis of scoliosis, as well as coming of age.
(I have always thought that Christian "peasants are unremittingly sentimental")Sloth weenie in poodle vagineySloth weenie in poodle vaginey
Well we're movin on up,To the east side.To a deluxe apartment in the sky.Movin on up,To the east side.We finally got a piece of the pie.Fish don't fry in the kitchen;Beans don't burn on the grill.Took a whole lotta tryin',Just to get up that hill.Now we're up in the big leagues,Gettin' our turn at bat.As long as we live, it's you and me baby,There ain't nothin wrong with that.Well we're movin on up,To the east side.To a deluxe apartment in the sky.Movin on up,To the east side.We finally got a piece of the pie.
To Slothy (And Her Partners In Crime).My experience of the art blogosphere was initially encouraged and guided by the painter/blogger Slothy (aka Log World). I'll always be indebted to the Slothmiester for that. Her tips, of course, led me to other blogs by other painters who work out their shit online. It's like a new form of the salon,and it's a hell of a lot more interesting for the rest of us to be able to watch these things unfolding now rather than wait a couple decades to read another boring ass retro gossip column in the guise of art history. Sometimes the conversation is straight up (Well, kinda.), other times it's completely surreal, and occasionally it's just fart jokes. No matter how you slice it, it's a blast to follow their wayward lines..So, it was more than a small treat to see all those wayward lines move from the digital realm and onto the walls of pluto, Molly Bradford's new gallery near the BMA. Two of the seven artists in this show, Rosanna Bruno and Wendy White, were responsible for two of the most unexpected and glorious ass-kickings of my art year (Bruno with a studio visit and White with her show at Sixty Seven). The others I've admired for some time and this show did nothing to change that. So you shouldn't be surprised that I'm going to say that this is one of the yummiest shows I've seen in awhile and that you shouldn't miss it.This is one of the yummiest shows I've seen in awhile. You shouldn't miss it. Surprised? Yeah. Me neither. For real.
zip are you talking about a show that was up at Pluto Gallery from Dec.-Jan. 2007 or are you praising the Georganne Deen show when you say:"This is one of the yummiest shows I've seen in awhile. You shouldn't miss it."
I love the way you look in pantsuits. I mean look at this photo. It's just a silhouette, yet anyone looking at it would know in a flash that it's you. Your shape is your signature. It's the Hillary invariant.It's the what?The Hillary invariant. It doesn't really change. And it's on display with the pantsuits. Skirts hide too much.What are you talking about?I'm talking about your shape and how feminine it is. Both you and Ms Wintour seem to think that femininity is encoded in fashion. But it's not. It's in the form. It doesn't matter what you wear.Wait a minute. I don't think that.Well according to Ms. Wintour you do or, at least, someone on your staff does. They could have come up with a better explanation, you know, for why you canceled the photo shoot.Like what?'It's not the season for cleavage.'No, sorry, that wouldn't fly.There's a reason I'm not on your campaign staff.
There's a reason I'm not on your campaign staff.
I aint sayin shitabout shit.Im just an internet troll. You say gravy I say wavy. Lets blow the whole thing into pastrami I like rye and whiskey and tricky and stippers with hickeys like Mickey.
While we were waiting for our food to arrive, Bukowski gawked at the predominantly Jewish diners, and swigging down a brew, yelled loud enough so all could hear: "TURN ON THE GAS."
In New York the people talk and try to make us rhymeThey really (hawk) but we just (walk) because we have no timeAnd in the city it's a pity cos we just can't hideTinted windows don't mean nothin', they know who's insideNow there's a backseat lover,That's always undercoverAnd I talked till my daddy say,Said "ya ain't seen nothin till your down on a muffin,And there's sure to be a change in way"Now there's a cheerleader, that's a real big pleaserAs far as I could reminiceAnd the best thing lovin' was you sister and your cousinAnd it started with a little kiss, like this To the beat of a different drummerBad ass bounty hunterLet no man put asunderOr else they be put underAs in six feetGot an imperial fleetBackin' me up, gonna blow upAny attempt to defeatThey gotta death starGot four payments on my carHand it over to hammer headAt Mos Eisley barHe used to carjackNow he's a barbackJust goes to show how you canGet back on the right trackAs for me that's not an optionCan't say that with more clarityMe going legit would be likeJar Jar on speech therapy
I hate Bukowski. I'll take Richard Yates any day.
fuckin' so usualy i;m a big liker of chick art and shit but.......Hava nagila,Hava nagila,Hava nagila,Ve' nismecha.Hava nagila,Hava nagila,Hava nagila,Ve' nismecha.Hava neranena,Hava neranena,Hava neranena,Ve' nismecha.Hava neranena,Hava neranena,Hava neranena,Ve' nismecha.Uru, uru achim,Uru achim belev sameach,Uru achim belev sameach,Uru achim belev sameach,Uru achimUru achimBelev sameach. cansider this a open threadf on chick art
he hated you first. to live and die in LA.little dark girl with kind eyes when it comes time to use the knife I won't flinch and i won't blame you, as I drive along the shore alone as the palms wave, the ugly heavy palms, as the living does not arrive as the dead do not leave, i won't blame you, instead i will remember the kisses our lips raw with love and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me, and I will remeber your small room the feel of you the light in the window your recordds your books our morning coffee our noons our nights our bodies spilled together sleeping the tiny flowing currents immediate and forever your leg my leg your arm my arm your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again. little dark girl with kind eys you have no knife.the knife is mine and i won't use it yet.what, no beck?
Like...Skally wally doo dag doo dad dofarta mutta sun and hola g g ghostlove dem waifasdrinkin yo babies blood toocrem de la shrekyo we be boppin outkerplunk...flush it down flush it down nowflush it downflush it downnnnnnn
Cows In Art Class good weatheris likegood women-it doesn't always happenand when it doesit doesn'talways last.man ismore stable:if he's badthere's more chancehe'll stay that way,or if he's goodhe might hangon,but a womanis changedbychildrenagedietconversationsexthe moonthe absence orpresence of sunor good times.a woman must be nursedinto subsistenceby lovewhere a man can becomestrongerby being hated.
Sometimes people love Vampire Weekend so much that they write about them in very solemn terms, like how their songs are "are terse clockwork constructions that equate cooperation with mutual avoidance.
They're piling in the back seatThey're generating steam heatPulsating to the back beatBlitzkrieg BopHey hohey howith hand grenades and razor blades and intifadah t-shirts and cell phone bombs.
Well anyway, this painting is terrible. Unless of course you like pictures of poodles and sloths having sex in a biege colored room. “Those areas have been drilled.”“What?”“Those areas have been drilled.”“No, they haven’t.”“Yes. It’s called drainage, Eli. See, I own everything around it, so, of course, I get what’s underneath it.”“But there are no derricks there. This is the Bandy tract. Do you understand?”“Do you understand, Eli? That’s more to the point. Do you understand? I drink your water. I drink it up. Every day, I drink the blood of lamb [or land?] from Bandy’s tract.”“That land has been had. There’s nothing you can do about it. It’s gone. It’s had.”“If you would just—““Drainage! Drainage! Eli, you boy. Drained dry. I’m so sorry. If you have a milkshake and I have a milkshake—there it is. [He holds up his index finger]. That’s the straw, you see. [He turns and walks away from Eli] And my straw reaches acrooooooossssss [walking back toward Eli] the room … I … drink … your … milkshake. [He makes a sucking noise] I drink it up!”(Bukowski is dead and I can continue to hate him.)
The term Abjection literally means "the state of being cast off." The concept of abject exists in between the concept of an object and the concept of the subject, something alive yet not. In contemporary critical theory, it is often used to describe the state of often-marginalized groups, such as people of color, prostitutes, homosexuals, convicts, poor people and handicapped persons. This term originated in the works of What you gon' do with all that junk?All that junk inside that trunk?I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,Get you love drunk off my hump.What you gon' do with all that ass?All that ass inside them jeans?I'ma make, make, make, make you screamMake you scream, make you scream.What you gon' do with all that junk?All that junk inside that trunk?
Read Thomas Disch's book "Castle of Indolence" if you want to see why I hate lazy writers like Bukowski.scat·ter·brain-a giddy heedless person non·sense-words or language having no meaning or conveying no intelligible ideas gob·ble·dy·gook-wordy and generally unintelligible jargon ad·dic·tion-compulsive need for and use of a habit-forming substance
read the following for why I don give a crap:Lazy is a pejorative term by Calvinist puritanical bitchez.Word up.
Chinaski is a pejorative used by Hank to describe himself. Drunkenly tossing your typer out the window is not lazy - it would probably land you in the New Museum with a little video at the fair.
i'm more of a "do fries go with that shake" type person. and back to the painting. Im liking the freakish/gothic qualities. Like I said theres a kind of hillbilly sheet music , edward gory, playboy cartoon thing going on. GD has some neat flash stuff on her website where you can see closeups of the surfaces. fine calligraphic style.
listen to yourself nattering on about drunken defenestration of typwriters as if by some magical thinking the New Museum would become a desireable center of art and not a carbuncle on the side of New york. Hideous hand of fate. Let alone art fairs.
but isnt the picture in need of some overpaintig? It feels like a cartoon in the sense of a sketch, and I just want to blaze over that with some bombastic hermeneutical thousand eyed beatitude.
most people would extend the linoleum pattern across the whole ground plane, true to life or not. Who is going to know?
I'll stick with Bukowski=lazy drunk thank you. If you want to read his drivel go for it. I think the painting we are discussing is a New Yorker comic without a punchline. I would probably appreciate the artist's flash stuff more than this painting. I have no problems with animal sex, humor, bizarre and surreal stuff, but I find this particular work to be no good. Now you can do a Nie·tzsche·an analysis of my use of the word "good", seeing it as a term created by the Master Class to ostracize and subjugate the Slave Class with, but why bother. Rock on dudes.
there is a funny book called "susies secret sloth"-very nicely illustrated,read it some time ago-from the sixties or late fifties,maybe-
Julie's secret slothwould be the title.I prefer lino cuts to conte crayon - like that student work from Serault at the Met. What dreck. Eageag your assertions of taste are illuminating as well as clay pigeons to my blunderbuss. If you must continue with the provocations, please craft them with more care. Thank you.
zip's blunderbuss=?Okay so if I want to shred something to bits then I should type nonsense that has a very faint echo of sense to it. Gotcha!
I know this post has been long since dropped, but for the record I just have to say that Georganne Deen's work needs to be experienced in person. There's a lot of information that gets lost in the digital photos - the subtle pencil marks, texture of the paint ranging from ethereal stains to woven impasto, as well as additions of small lines of text and appliqués that add more layers and complexity to the work. In this particular painting, you can't see the text coming from the woman on the couch that says, "I give you control," nor the text coming from the woman in the window that says, "Let go of her, honey - she's got to get back to work."I didn't think much of Georganne's work until I saw it in person. In person, the work is poetic, magical and inviting. It does come from a very personal and emotional place which is cringe-inducing for some, but I admire that she is not afraid to go there. Too much work these days is cool, detached, cynical and ironic - often empty, i.e. this year's Whitney Biennial - and we're also conditioned to view work from that perspective. Georganne's work is deeply felt, and needs to be experienced rather than analyzed. Her work is a testament to the power of painting. We often rely on digital images and base our opinions on them, but after seeing Georganne's show I am going to think twice before I make a snap judgement about an artist based on a digital photo.
Good for you, now go cook me a twinkie.
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