4/24/2008

Katy Moran

98 comments:

Painter said...

Katy Moran @
Andrea Rosen
525 West 24th Street
New York, NY 10011

Sunil said...

Abstract Turner

CAP said...

Hey Sunil's back!

zipthwung said...

Someone is brushing their vagina dentures with Aim. Is my first impression.

What's with the new old? Is it like the therapeutic memoire is for writers? The talking cure? No Moran is all of what, 16?

Or is it a deliberate strategy of resistance against the totalizing patriarchal hegemony?

An eleaborately constructed fiction?


Yes! Stab the eyes of the choir with this retinal placebo! The fish scales have been lifted from my dead eyes, all 1100 of them!

This is utter dreck. Instead of turning the paintings upside down, maybe the artist shoudl turn them to the wall and paint the back. Ah, what an idea!

zipthwung said...

Sorry if that was harsh, I had to justify my thug.

webthing said...

she makes small paintings most of the time. they remind me a little bit of a hodgkin type reverence for emotional underpinning, but of course rendered in a palette that operates it's parts in relation to one another, less jarringly than HH. because of this tonal palette, umber's and the like fuse into a kind of classical sense of color. as if it might be a masterpiece that has exploded and been washed down with AIM. Whatever it is to her i'd be interested to hear how genuine she paints, or whether it's bogged down in the hyperbole of critical thinking. not that critical thinking is a bad thing, it's necessary, even paramount these days, but so are feelings, and love for painting. there was never supposed to be the idea that a romantic affiliation with the act of painting could only ever occur at one bygone period of human development. anyway when things are truly understood all the 'periods' emerge as recurrent cycles - replete with their own sets of earlier forebears, everytime.

CAP said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
CAP said...

This seems like a strange choice, even for Rosen. She’s probably thinking this is the Cecily Brown you have when you’re not having a Cecily Brown.

But small (acrylic!) very saleable, very tastefulNICE

5 or 6 years ago I used to wonder about this happening… I actually tipped off certain dealers and collectors – “I’m telling ya – get in on all that small-scale Euro 50s ab a dab AON – Istrati, Hosiasson, Nina Tryggvaddottir (wha?) – even Riopelle - that Tachiste shit is gonna come back man!”

And did they heed my oracular pronouncements? Did they buy me a drink? Did they show me the door? What do you think?

Howard Hodgkin? Yeah probably, but only coz Cecily mentioned him in one of her focussed mentoring sessions.

No Rush said...

closeuup said...
oh yes, i see ab/ex coming back. re-legitimized if you will. and all you who dont get it now will be jumpin on the bandwagon then--or at least you'll have to be talkin about it. thru your gritted teeth.

but right now, before everyone gets on board, it's sweet for those of us who have loved it all along.

19/4/06 3:55 PM

No Rush said...

The press release is off the mark. These dont seem to be so much about abstraction/representation. Even tho there's a figure/ground. These are highly abstract. Backgrounds are flattened. What's wrong with that?

Like she did in past bodies of work where she quoted brushstrokes and palettes from 18th cent, she's now working with the 40s/50s. You can kind of see these with a driftwood sculpture next to them.

But the main thing is that they are a pile of marks. Short marks, rounded in on themselves, fluttery, feathery. Not the long strokes of DeK or Mitchell.

Youknow Bob Welch was highly underrated:

We'll have you seen that girl in the corner
I'd like to take her out of her chains
'Cause if I have my way with you baby
I would be changing your life today

Your eyes got me dreaming
Your eyes got me blind
Your eyes got me hoping
That I'll be holding you close tonight
Your eyes got me dreaming
Your eyes got me blind
Your eyes got me hoping
That I'll be holding you close tonight

She was the same as a hundred ladies
But when my eyes looked at her I learned
That she was keeping a secret fire
And if I got real close I'd burn
So it looked like I had to move slowly
Like a cat at night in the trees
'Cause I was waiting for her to show me
The way that she likes her love to feel

Your eyes got me dreaming
Your eyes got me blind
Your eyes got me hoping
That I'll be holding you close tonight
Your eyes got me dreaming
Your eyes got me blind
Your eyes got me hoping
That I'll be holding you close tonight

Ebony eyes, ebony eyes
Ebony eyes, ebony eyes

juliensky said...

zipthwung,everytime I'm on here you never like anything.

juliensky said...

and you talk endless about other stuff that has nothing to do with the painting a lot of the time. I thought this blog is for dialogue about the WORK. I don't get irked by going off base as much as the sheer volume you crank out. How do you even have the time? I'm not trying to be a dick but I can't be the only one who feels this way. Can anyone back me on this?
All I'm saying is chill a little and let's talk about the work...

juliensky said...

And I'm referring to other discussions about other painters, not this one in particular...yet.

No Rush said...

sorry no juliensky. everyone should be able to post anything they want, no censorship.

too much volume, skip it. dont agree, argue with it. off base, think twice about how it might connect.

Idon'tbathe said...

One may wonder why fart gas travels downward toward the anus when gas has a lower density than liquids and solids, and should therefore travel upwards.
The intestine squeezes its contents toward the anus in a series of contractions, a process called peristalsis.

Brack's Photo A Day said...

Wow idon'tbathe, that is truly fascinating stuff. Seriously. I'm not one of those who had wondered but I still appreciate the explanation!

white stupid said...

GOD! Juliensky you are so right on! that asshole zipthwung ruins every discussion. i can't begin to list the bloggers that have left this blog because of his constant diarrhea . he has no shame either...

oilgirl said...

Yeah, I don't stop by here much now. While I wouldn't go so far as to call folks arseholes, I'm with Juliensky and white stupid. This is not about censorship either. I love to read some kick ass debates about actual painting and painters, but I get real tired of random song lyrics, verbal wank etc and the out there connections lie only in the minds of the clique. Because of this I get too intimidated to comment. It's o.k once in a while but it gets freekin' stupid when you have to skim about for something vaguely relevant or basically skip the whole discussion entirely.

white stupid said...

elequently put Oilgirl! anybody else feel this way?

white stupid said...

actually No Rush is a close second to Zippy's constant self important anal leakage! no wonder he cries cencorship. Are they in love with seeing their dribble in print? Please get a life...

getreal said...

Right on Oilgirl. Too much blah, blah, blah.

oilgirl said...

Personally I love the blah, blah, blah....and I do like the knowledge and personalities here. It's just that I wish it were more relevant most of the time...

oilgirl said...

p.s this is really the only forum of it's kind so I wouldn't want to see it disappear up it's own back passage. I would love to participate and comment but I'm not from New York--I'm not even American! I guess all the in house references also deter me...well, that's my problem-right?...but when the conversation detours off into something unrelated I get doubly frustrated and then give up. I just wanted to let you know where I'm coming from.

webthing said...

ok
better not to bag on others
demonstrate what you mean
none of you have said anything about the painting yet...

oilgirl said...

Not bagging on any one webthing. What I said is what I meant. Happy to talk about the painting...but isn't it a bit ironic that a small comment about off topic content is being countered by a request to get on topic!....anyway, her work leaves me cleaving for form, if you know what I mean. I'm slipping and sliding all over the place trying to hang my eyes on something. Bleachy paint is a pet love of mine but here I feel like someone's up the brightness on the image. Hmmm..I read somewhere that you can lose yourself and find things in these works so maybe it's the jpeg's fault.

GUV said...

http://londonpainting.blogspot.com

white stupid said...

You are right ASHLEY.
It's just that these resentments have been in my head everytime I check out this site . And, as you can see, other people feel the same way.
i saw these paintings in person and i thought i was in 1959,France. she even signs the front on the bottom right. They look like a received idea of ab expressionism(except with tiny gestures, nothing sweeping here). does it make it smart if she is quoting? that is so gd academic. i threw up in my mouth a little

oilgirl said...

Thanks for the London painting link. Mouth chuck, hey, hmmm.....nice.

zipthwung said...

That asshole Robert Storr ruins every discussion. His out there connections lie only in the minds of the clique. This is not about censorship either. I love to read some kick ass [ed: kick azz?] debates about actual painting and painters, in the way I was taught in school, because song lyrics and free association are too crazy for me to even try to get, and when I do try, I don't so I feel stupid.

Could we stick to art historical references to score points? That's where I really get my game on. Without historicity we just repeat ourselves, aint that the truth amen brother you said it, you go gir! Uh hu, amen sister, brothers gotta play the man's game shhh keep it quiet or they'll figure it out no way jose this is a closed system let them figure it out the hard way speak for yourself I got mine you can come try to get you some but I gots ta know did you fire all six shots or can I blast a cap right back at your sorry ass game. WHats he saying? i dont know somekind of jive talk, these niggers is craaaazy. I think hhes jsut some crazy cracker, they'll do anything for a career. Well Im not casting stones to save mama but dont go changin to please the her. But I'm intimidated because what If I'm wrong and this painting isn't geriatric crap? Lets all get in touch with the physicality of paint and jacking off into the mystical Alan Watts memorial glory hole. The surface is so fucking buttery, lets rim it. Really fun fight, kind of like fighting Sapphiron inside Heigan's room. I'd say it's about as tough as Brutallus, just in a very different way (execution, not numbers). Very well-tuned, too. Looking forward to seeing what's waiting on the other side of the gate. And a urinal cake to boot.

oilgirl said...

Nice. Feel better now? aw...gee, now I just feel really stupid coz you talk big crazy curly words n' stuff....

I'll be off to rim some paint.Peace out brother.

webthing said...

Nostalgia for ab-ex painting has been a sentiment some saw coming, looming, returning over the horizon in various guises. Or maybe it just never stopped happening, just appeared lost in a market view. Let's not forget what came before ab-ex. So she listens to piano concerto's and dons the small scale to piecemeal composition, and what is the result? maybe it's emotional. it could be poetic. representational, but it isn't. it fails to form into anything, maybe it suggests landscape but never actuates. it could be just the relationship one develops to paint as a young thing that remains an act of resolution with visually codified culture. it might just be british, restrained, tidy, controlled and sitting upon the apex of the desire for language. it washes about pushed and pulled, any image forming accidental and aside to the process, rorschach musing. i think it's pretty good but like no rush i get what i like in some ab-ex variants. maybe her work is a little undercooked, do we need to go into the de-skilling crap again, i hope not. it needed to lay down and die it's illogical death back in the late 70's.

zipthwung said...

Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years
Rockin' my peers
Puttin' suckers in fear
Makin' the tears rain down like a monsoon
Listen to the bass go boom
Explosion, overpowerin'
Over the competition, I'm towerin'
Records shock
When I drop these lyrics
That'll make you call the cops
Don't you dare stare
You betta move
Don't ever compare me to the rest
They'll all get sliced and diced
Competition's payin' the price
(CHORUS)
I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out
I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out
I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out
I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out
Don't you call this no regular jam
I'm gonna rock this land
I'm gonna take this itty-bitty world by storm
And I'm just getting warm
Just like Mohammad Ali, they called him Cassius
Watch me bash this beat like a skull
Dontcha know I gotta beef wit'
Why don't you rip with me, the maniac psycho
Cuz when I pull out my jammy, get ready cuz it might go
Blauh!
How do you like me now?
The reverand will not allow
you to get wit' Mr. Smith don't risk
Listen to my gear shift.
I'm blastin', outlastin'
Colors like shaft, so you could say I'm shaftin'
Old English fill my mind and I came up with this funky rhyme
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Shadow boxin' when I heard you on the radio
I just don't know
What made them forget that I was raw
But now I gotta new toy
I'm going insane
Frontin' the hurricane
Releasin' pain
Lettin' you know
You can't gain or maintain
Unless you say my name
Rippin'
Killin'
Diggin' and drillin' a hole
Well I'll pass your goal
(REPEAT CHORUS)
Shotgun blasts are heard
When I rip and kill at will
The man of the hour, tower of power
I will devour
I'm gonna tie you up and let you understand
That I'm not your average man
When I gotta jammy in my hand
Damn
Ooh
Listen to the way I slay your crew
Damnit
Damnit
Damnit
Damnit
Destruction, terror and mayhem
Pass me a .... I'll slay him
Farmers (WHAT)
Farmers (WHAT)
Ready? (READY)
I think I'm gonna bomb a town
Don't you never, ever
Pull my lever
'Cause I explode
And my nine is easy to load
I gotta thank God
'Cause he gave me this chance to rock
Hard... knock you out
(REPEAT CHORUS)

All the ladies in the house say "ow!" said...

This is about having to clean the family silver and all those little brass figurines on the mantel, just once too often…

ANGST!

Stockport!

ANGST X ANGST!

webthing said...

grime

Idon'tbathe said...

L.L. Cool J. is hard as hell
Battle anybody I don't care who you tell
I excel, they all fail
I'm gonna crack shells, Double-L must rock the bells

You've been waitin' and debatin' for oh so long
Just starvin' like Marvin for a Cool J. song
If you cried and thought I died, you definitely was wrong
It took a thought, plus I brought Cut Creator along
Evened up with E-Love down with the Cool J. force
Symbolizin' in the rhymin' for the record of course
I'm a tower full of power with rain and hail
Cut Creator scratch the record with his fingernail
Rock the bells

The king of crowd rockers finally is back
My voice is your choice as the hottest wax
True as a wizard, just a blizzard, I ain't taken no crap
I'm rhymin' and designin' with your girl in my lap
The bass is kickin' always stickin' cause you like it that way
You take a step because it's def and plus it's by Cool J.
Cut Creator on the fader, my right-hand man
We rock the bells so very well cause that's the name of this jam
Rock the bells

Some girl's will like this jam and some girls won't
Cause I make a lot of money and your boyfriend don't
L.L. went to hell, gonna rock the bells
All you washed up rappers wanna do this well
Rock the bells

Now I'm world-wide known, whether you like it or not
My one man band is Cut Creator a.k.a. Philpot
He'll never skip it, only rip it when he's on the fader
What's my d.j.'s name, Cut Creator
Now you know the episode who's on the wheels
He'll drive the cross fader like a cut mobile
So precise with a slice that you know he's greater
What's my d.j.'s name, Cut Creator
Now you know, what do you know, Earl roles the weed
I go to the store and get Old Gold
So all you crabby lookin' nappy headed girls get back
Cause there's a ten to one chance that you might get smacked
Rock the bells

The bells are circulatin' the blood in your veins
Why are girlies on the tip, L.L.'s your name
Cut Creator's good, Cool J. is good-good
You bring the wood pecker, I'll bring the wood
The bells are wippin' and rippin' at your body and soul
Why do you like Cool J., we like rock and roll
Cause it ain't the glory days with Bruce Springsteen
I'm not a virgin so I know I'll make Madonna scream
You hated Michael and Prince all the way, ever sense
If their beats were made of meat, then they would have to be mince
Rock the bells

So listen to the lines of rhyme, I rhyme on time
He'll cut the record in a second, make your d.j. look blind
So all you jerry-curl suckers wearin' high-heel boots
Like ballerinas, what I mean is you're a fruit-loop troop
All you gonna-be(s), wanna-be(s), when will you learn
Wanna be like Cool J., you gotta wait your turn
Some suckers don't like me, but I'm not concerned
Six-g (s) for twenty minutes is the pay I earn
I'm growin' and glowin' like a forest blaze
Do you like Michael Jackson, we like Cool J.
That's right, I'm on the mic with the help of the bells
There's no delayin' what I'm sayin' as I'm rockin' you well
Rock the bells

webthing said...

boyz

zipthwung said...

There is one outside chance for a cure. I think of it as shock treatment - as I said, something is happening here its not exactly clear... Have you ever heard of exorcism? Well, it's a stylized ritual in which the hobbit kills the beast with a knife and a fork and some peas and honey you run with the bees and honey and you try to drive out the so-called invading spirit. but uh, are you experienced? Do you speak with the voice of authority? It has worked. In fact, although not for the reasons they think, of course. It's purely a force of suggestion. The victim's belief in possession is what helped cause it, so in that same way, a belief in the power of exorcism can make it disappear. If you're into evil, you're a friend of mine.

positively vyner street said...

You got a lotta nerve
To say you paint like then
When it was down
You weren’t even beginning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got history on your hands
When you just want to be on
The side that’s winning

You say it let you down
You know it’s snot like that
If you were really hurt
Then why doesn’t it show?

You say you lost your faith
And that’s not where it’s at
You had no faith to lose
Or don’t you even know?

I know the reason
That you paint so meek and mousy
I used to swing on Queens Gate
And pull your kind from under buses

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I’d look for
What you’re trying to show
When all you’re scrubbing is brushes

You see me in the reviews
And always act surprised
You say, “Is that interpretation?”
But you never read them, right

When you know as well as me
You’d rather see Gaggo idolised
Why don’t you just come out once
And be forthright

No, I don’t feel that good
When I see the career breaks you embrace
If I was a masterpiece
I’d probably piss on them

And now I know you’re dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don’t you understand
It’s not your precinct, that’s the problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And for just that one moment
I could be you

Yeah I wish that for just that one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you.

RYC said...

These were so refreshing to see, and found myself visiting more than once. Working in chelsea, I see most of the shows that go up, and while I appreciate peoples visions of their art, it's good to see stuff that is genuine to the artist, and less cynical or ironic, and maintains a healthy balance between concept and formal experience which is what this work portrayed to me.

No Rush said...

good good stuff at jack's - lesley shows

webthing said...

right on ryc

webthing said...

few days go by where i don't oscillate wildly between two distinct frames of mind - that in pursuit of expression, and that in pursuit of surrender. both offer their own freedom, none of them total (preposterous to be so). but each enough. counterbalance, point counter point, too much of anything is mildly sickening.

the more i am considering meanings, i can see it on my face when i'm at the basin brushing my teeth before bed. a little furrowed and the lamp light frown. it might just be the fixed focal length of computer/canvas staring. i'm aesthetically more attractive to myself when i'm thinking very sparsely, even removed, but eventually repulsed by the very whimsy of such a mode when it lasts more than a few days.

is it a sense of duty? to what? to my own idea that i should engage myself with consideration of the great conundrums? (and even the little ones...)

A little help would be nice. It's up to the artist. I don't know if this concerns.

Maybe the rightest way comes from itself: laces better left untied, hence, abstraction. Abstraction is everything before it becomes figurative, not the other way around. Abstraction is denial of the ability to resolutely pin your opponent to the canvas. Our opponent is the unknown.


-webthing (<----- huh?)

insatiablecuriosity said...

perhaps the basics can render the piece more engaging. the contrast of lights and darks establish a weight to an otherwise intangible mass. the emerging creation is both wispy and solid, the product of a complex composition..maybe. When first seeing the piece it reminded me of something out of a peterpan story of pirate ships and dreams. the flatness of the surrounding white versus the definition near the left center create a interesting, and almost aesthically pleasing. maybe that's its downfall?... or maybe i am completely wrong. chissa'

zipthwung said...

This painting is like snow disturbed by an owl in pursuit of a field mouse at a country dump. maybe the dump is surrounded by cedar trees, and the blue is from the parka of the little old lady that got murdered for her welfare check. Maybe the murderer is driving on black ice towards oblivion in a sun faded canary yellow El Camino with sand bags in the back. Maybe the el Camino has 100,000 miles on it and still has an eight track with A john Fogerty tape stuck in it. Maybe that song is playing and the ash tray is full and the car is filled with smoke from a cigarette burning through a seat soaked in death. Maybe death is all around you. Maybe you cant see through the smoke and an oncoming semi is about to divide your mind from your body in like a cartesian axe. I could do that all day. Is there any money in it?

No rush brought up the bohemian fog webthing - I think thats what you are describing. I;m not sure thought because language is abstract and I dont have much context.

Change in the weather, change in the weather,
Somethin's happenin' here.
Change in the weather, change in the weather,
People walkin' round in fear.

Uh huh, you better duck and run,
Get under cover 'cause the change has come.
Storm warning, and it looks like rain,
Be nothin' left after the hurricance.
This here's a jungle, ain't no lie,
Look at the people, terror in their eyes.
Bad business comin', can't be denied,
They're running with the dogs, afraid to die.

[Chorus]

Uh huh, you best believe it's true,
The levee's busted, badness comin' through.
Oh no, there ain't no place to hide,
Reach out and pluck you, take you for a ride.
Sea of frustration, take everything in sight,
Won't be no blessing if we make it through the night.
Down on your knees, go ahead and pray,
But every demon has to have his day.

[Chorus]

Well! Oh, God!

High noon, I can't believe my eyes,
Wind is ragin', there's a fire in the sky.
Ground shakin', everything comin' loose,
Run like a coward but it ain't no use.
Edge of the river, it's an ugly scene,
People gettin' pushed, people gettin' mean.
The change is comin' and it's gettin' late,
Ain't no survivin', and there ain't no escape.

[Chorus]
Oh!
[Chorus]
Well! Oh, no!

edgar belgi said...

well yes this is neat in intention and result it seems

easy colors though

and yesterday before class in the morning i went to this room in the museum where they are messing with the modern collection, a different de kooning i have never seen "untitled XI " from 75 i think, and it gave me the shivers, sometimes they are the truest paintings.

edgar belgi said...

well yes this is neat in intention and result it seems

easy colors though

and yesterday before class in the morning i went to this room in the museum where they are messing with the modern collection, a different de kooning i have never seen "untitled XI " from 75 i think, and it gave me the shivers, sometimes they are the truest paintings.

webthing said...

yes=no

No Rush said...

the bohemian fog again. KH and I are both in cities famous for the fog--and weather is a fine metaphor for this kind of painting. you never know what the weather will be. or the future for that matter.

i dont know why KH dregdes this all back up again with so much congruence with the past--maybe shes just saying somethings never change?.

the best thing about ab/ex is the improvisational method. i do agree that abstraction preceeds image but at the same time the best contemporary abstraction reflect this time we live in, using that method. closest thing to freedom i can find

zipthwung said...

This painting is good but looking at it from a jaundiced eye, its not genius. WHat is? I can't expect too much.

Looking at Barnaby Whitfiedld, and his assertion of sexuality, along with a certain campy humor, pathos and a dozen other flavors, I realized his audience was fairly narrow - dare I say elitist in the sense that the wider audience is unreceptive to such work. ANd my god man, work on your surfaces if only for the fetishits.

But much is being made of work that appears facile and easy and yet supposedly packs a subversive punch. Like office furniture designed by gay refugees -It is what it is, there's nothing hidden or ironic - camp is out in the open.

This painting is not subversive - but I do enjoy the conceit that it free's your mind like a good stained ceiling and as mentioned here before - the old da VInci spit wall.

So thats all just stating the obvious, which as you know bores me to tears.

TO reiterate - I do think that work that supposedly packs a subversive punch despite its mainstream styling is generally simply mainstream and the subversion is in the mind of the beholder - or as is usual in the art world, an obligatory nod to "conceptualism" for the uninitiated.

Disclaimer: I did my brain wrong so maybe I shouldn't be writing.

DO tell me about the historical references.

Back to the nonsense.

CAP said...

CROSS ought to have an interested take on this one.

zipthwung said...

She was a girl from 1962
I was a boy from 1959
I walked up to her in my broken shoes
Dragging my soul thru the grime
She was a girl from 1962
I walked the line
I fell to my knees it was 16 after 2
I was a boy from 1959
I looked to her eyes i needed a cue
I looked to my hands but they werent mine
She was a girl from 1962
I walked the line
3295 days between us did divide
Upon my grave i will atone
For the time i left that girl alone
She was a girl from 1962
I walked the line

Idon'tbathe said...

If the sample consists mostly of fart with only a small poop component, you get what is known as "skid marks" or "fart art." These can also result from inadequate wiping, but the shape of the stain is different in the two cases. Inadequate wiping leads to elongate marks parallel to one's crack, usually with well-defined edges, whereas fart art is generally more circular and has an air-brushed look.
Fart art is most likely to occur if (1) a person is suffering from diarrhea, (2) the person is trying too hard to fart, and (3) the person mistakenly perceives the pressure against his sphincter to be gas pressure rather than liquid pressure. Again, that last situation is most likely to occur if the person is afflicted with diarrhea.

webthing said...

opening

webthing said...

subversive
discursive
allusive
elusive

all about I-V-E

zipthwung said...

For the first couple of days after the birth, your baby will pass meconium. This is a sticky, greeny-black substance that has built up in your baby's intestines during your pregnancy and is made up of bile, mucus, cells from the bowel wall, secretions and amniotic fluid. While meconium may be difficult to wipe off that tiny bottom, its appearance is a good sign that your baby's bowels are working normally.

After a day or two, once feeding is established and the last of the meconium passes out, the stools will turn a browny-green and be loose and grainy in texture, before becoming more yellow.

webthing said...

if painting might not always bare the soul, at least it may aspire to the condition of music

No Rush said...

in this house of suffering
i gotta let some joy in
i hear that freedom will win
oh where oh where can jah love be now
my dear, it's here in the underground
inside the hearts of your own children
in this house of suffering
i spiritualogic grin, in
one way grace is my friend
to conquer doom and sin
and all the nations lying
while all our people crying
and they stop at nothing!...nothing!...nothing!
in this house of suffering
don,t want but just one thing
got to have my origin
in this house of suffering.

CAP said...

I disagree that the abstract precedes the figurative, either historically or logically. And I disagree that it represents any greater opportunity for improvisation or freedom in painting. The first belongs in a philosophy blog though, is too off-topic here. All I’ll say is I’m not an idealist (nor realist).

The second though is more a misunderstanding arising from zealous rhetoric. Improvisation or some spontaneous contribution has got to be based on something, obviously. Supposed ‘free improvisation’ in music ends up arguing about what constitutes noise, but doesn’t thereby increase the options, for musician or listener. Any number of figurative painters have improvised on their compositions, even Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel Ceiling contains improvisations on his pounced designs. (even Michelangelo changed his mind!) So improvisation is not especially new, and by no means limited to abstraction.

What constitutes improvisation in abstract painting is actually quite hard to say. Did Jackson Pollock improvise? His technique, palette and compositional sense quickly became routine for him. There were rules, even for flicking and dripping. Then again, I’m told most jazz musicians rehearse their ‘improvised’ solos. To strictly improvise on the spot apparently would admit too many mistakes, be too confusing for accompanying musicians…. Which is not to say they don’t improvise, but apparently their improvisations are mostly minor variations on a set improvisation and that, in turn, a carefully arranged point in a score where improvisation has been planned along set lines concerning time score, key, melody and atmosphere So freedom is hardly guaranteed by improvisation, and what freedom it offers is pretty severely circumscribed. In fact improvisation in music seems to entail an unusually zealous regard for the score, from what I can see.

But I’m not a musician, nor, I suspect, even a musician’s friend, any longer.

So laying aside improvisation in abstract painting, does it offer any greater freedom that figuration? Well there’s freedom from figuration, I suppose, but then we have to be careful what we take as figuration. Is the figurative just the concrete, the actual?
Is a picture of a dragon as figurative as a picture of a horse then? One exists, the other doesn’t, but both can be rendered with equal degrees of detail. Does the figurative cover the fictional? What about a picture of just a typical black horse (as used in say, a children’s reading primer)? Is ‘a sort of horse’ concrete or a type? Real or an abstraction? One’s ontological committents here are quickly tested. Whether fictive or generalized, the figurative clearly permits degrees of abstraction. So when we say ‘abstract’ painting, we’re actually talking about a much higher stage of abstraction – not just a picture of a type of object or event, available under any one picture plane scheme (such as various perspectives or projections) – and not all objects are available under all such schemes, historically or logically - but a mode of two-dimensionality that explicitly refers to pictures (and not say, writing or some other form of denotation).

We could say full abstraction (as they once did, around 1912) to be more precise about this kind of abstract painting, but whether all the types of pictures can really be stacked up is moot. And even if we could stack dragons along with gamma rays and malaria and NYC alongside Jupiter and dreams; that would be only one such stacking. So the one agreed and tested ladder of full and final abstraction for pictures and painting is hardly forthcoming; is at best contested. So where’s the freedom? If anything, it calls on even great discipline and scrutiny, factions and versions.

But say the resolute reductivist or eulogizing Euclidian insists that all geometry can be reduced to planes, planes to lines and lines to a point? That abstraction for pictures therefore begins or ends with just one perfect point, surely the path is clear then? The amenable artist says, “Sure, but what do we make it with? What tool will ever be absolute enough?” The theorist says it doesn’t matter, so long as it’s consistent. The artist says they have all kinds, how to decide? And even if they could decide, then there’s the matter of surface to use it on. Which is the ultimate surface?

I know this is already too long, but to quickly return to post – the use of obvious brushwork in establishing a line or plane, even one predominant color, is as much concerned with just these matters of system or pattern, as establishing metaphors for mood or attitude. The excited existentialist will of course remind us that mood and method are a hopeless duality, and that each brush with indecision is a step to ecstasy for just a moment. But I’ll leave it at that.

'Kick-ass' enough, ladies?

No Rush said...

idb, please inject one of your diahreea posts here.

you had me at freedom from image, me boyo.

concrete phone said...

Kind of reminds me of this, people talking about short swift marks, curls and this like that. Katy Moran, in these ones anyway remind me of Phlegm, one of the ancient four humours, or a little staged stoppard arcadia. Robin McDonnell's are more a jetcoaster on abyss, layers working their way in and out.

webthing said...

amen to that.

what i meant by abstraction preceding figuration is that anything representative in paintings, and only paintings, is made by the illusions of deft brushwork, deft little abstract brushwork and an understanding of what happens when the eye is 10ft away. figuration is the height of illusion! dragons or horses anything is figurative when it's forms can be coined as known objects. abstraction is the height of an allusion - pushed far enough turns into something recognizable. Moran leaves it to hover without forming into anything but the allusions are all there, it is coming close to the surface of a recognizable image through palette, but not quite making it. Someone should have offered her a tissue when she sneezed.

concrete phone said...

Oh, and cap. You can argue it, but usually abstract painters start as figurative ones, not all but most, definitely most! Makes you think? painters that start off Abstract following your logic, should turn. at least with equal %, figurative. I don't think this is the case.
I think in Moby Dick Melville picked up on some ancient chinese stuff that duality does not continue along the irreconcilable ad infinitum, instead the tandem of opposites create another form in which say happy and sad cease to be understood as two ends of a knot. So if abstraction is the antithesis of figurative, then abstract is not the one. If abstraction is the new form that replaces the thesis / antithesis, say of Caravaggio vs Matisse, then when something is wholly abstract it no longer works in apparent contradiction or duality, it works in the one of which there are many, of all the histories had and yet to come. Abstract is the one that we go to, not come from.

webthing said...

painting - it's all just viscous liquid on a substrate. but when it mimics the recognizable, it becomes less noticeable, but i guarantee it's still a series of little blobs arranged just so.

During certain periods in life, creativity goes beyond serving as an outlet for dealing with stress, beyond being a welcome distraction, and becomes a compulsion. It is at this moment, when creation starts to bridge the gap between superfluity and intrinsic necessity, that some of the best art is realized.

CAP said...

I also reject any definition of pictures as illusions, or appeals to the independent mechanics of the eye. What 'happens when the eye is 10 ft away' may have fascinated behaviorists, back in the days of J.J. Gibson, Gombrich et al, but can tell us nothing about the mind operating it, the hand painting it, the world housing it.

The 'height of illusion' is surely to be unaware of a deception. I don't see pictures as any kind of deception, anymore than words or music. All allude or refer, directly or indirectly, literally or metaphorically.

Moran, like Cecily Brown, enjoys the exchange from the more concrete to the more abstract, (check out earlier stuff) likes to find some coincidence or overlap between past styles and techniques. YAWN. Like Brown, Moran favors a fussy, fretful facture - highlighted here by the use of a wide brush for numerous short strokes and dabs. If there is any 'allusion' here, it is firstly to this attitude.

They make Bradley Walker-Tomlin look butch.

zipthwung said...

the writer can only imitate a gesture forever anterior, never original; his only power is to combine the different kinds of writing, to oppose some by others, so as never to sustain himself by just one of them; if he wants to express himself, at least he should know that the internal "thing" he claims to "translate" is itself only a readymade dictionary whose words can be explained (defined) only by other words, and so on ad infinitum ... Succeeding the Author, the writer no longer contains within himself passions, humors, sentiments, impressions, but that enormous dictionary, from which he derives a writing which can know no end or halt: life can only imitate the book, and the book itself is only a tissue of sighs, a lost, infinitely remote imitation.

webthing said...

from a structural perspective, everything is abstract. from a human perspective this text you are reading is text, but structurally it is thousands of pixels arranged to mimic typeset, this is all a given of course, but those pixels are then also again composed of a whole other molecular reality, and beneath that who knows...not intending to insult with over simplification, but from a structural standpoint, where abstract is used as a term implying theoretical extraction, the dredging of something from beneath our faculty for identification, beneath this 'text' on the screen for example, part of a quantum, because it is text and it isn't text all at once (dichotomy #538), i guess structurally is kind of the place where i approach and appreciate abstract art from, possibly in tandem with feelings (though it's still hard to feel for a jpeg but only time will tell), what i'm saying is an outmoded gestalt thing, i should probably plug in somewhere and update myself by now.

By the way the director of a friends gallery pointed out to me the other day that it's 2010 in one and a half years, (even though it still feels like at least five years away to me), and that children getting born now have no concept of life without a computer in it. Bit of chin scratching and it was time for champagne. Roll on the 10's.

By the way, how much of Moran is built on nostalgia if any? It appears academic, that's the funny thing about most abstract painters. Though there's some play in it, thankfully.

No Rush said...

all art is abstraction.

among everything else you sure got improvisation wrong. I mean move over jack kerouac, lenny bruce and sonny rollins, michelangelo CHANGED HIS MIND once or twice.

improvisation is based on something alright, its based on letting go. there's a connection between inner and outer that few people have the guts to make.

If you think that alluding to the limitations or stoppages that define our existance is weak, not butch enuf, you have very little interest in truth. Which is something Ive noted all along.

webthing said...

giddyup

eageageag said...

I saw these paintings in person at Andrea Rosen and I thought they were slight. I thought about how starved art patrons must be for painterly gestures. They were instantly forgettable. The use of color was subtle, but this was the kind of subtlety that can kill viewer interest rather quickly. Roberta Smith said something about these paintings being "a very tiny arena in which to act" and I guess this is a nice way of saying that not much is going on in terms of form in these paintings. They are examples of painterly impotence. I also felt like they were unresolved and lazy. They would spruce up an upper middle class interior but that is about it. They are wispy, puffs of smoke, cloud-like scribbles, centralized brushy knots. They left me wanting more and I can’t imagine that the artist was challenged by the making process. I also thought that they failed to suggest any kind of scale. The spatial relationships the painted marks generated were particularly uninteresting. The painterliness seemed a bit calculated to me.

zipthwung said...

Theres a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room

I've got the dungeon Master's Guide
I've got a 12-sided die
I've got Kitty Pryde
and Nightcrawler too
Waiting there for me
yes I do, I do

Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday

I've got posters on the wall
My favorite rock group KISS
I've got Ace Frehley
I've got Peter Criss
Waiting there for me
yes I do, I do

Now its dark and Im alone
But I wont be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room

In the garage
I feel safe
No one cares about my ways
In the garage
Where I belong
No one hears me sing this song
In the garage

I've got an electric guitar
I play my stupid songs
I write these stupid words
and I love every one
Waiting there for me
Yes I do, I do

zipthwung said...

However, sometimes you just don't have cream around. Understandable, I've certainly been there. In those situations, 2% milk works. It's not ideal, but it'll do. Milk with 1%, or egh, skim milk, is absolutely a last resort. It does something, but you lose so much flavor and texture, and the difference is so vast, that you might as well just go with the black russian. Ahhh... 'Caged Heat'! I get a big grin on my face just typing the title! Look, you either dig Women In Prison movies or you don't, and if you do 'Caged Heat' is the second best one ever made, in a tie with Jack Hill's 'The Bird Bird Cage'. (The best for me is still 'Chained Heat' starring Linda Blair and Tamara Dobson, made a few years after this genre is generally regarded as being at its peak). I think the only thing stopping it from being number one is the absence of Pam Grier. If she had played the character of Pandora instead of Ella Reid, 'Chained Heat' would be IT The TV ads conclude with a warning to parents: "Learn the language, before your kids do."

No Rush said...

Roberta's point was that they were small in contrast to the huge monumental paintings of AbEx history. Also a connection to Nozkowski and how his choice of smaller size is politically based. Made me think though, if you choose to downscale, then you've sidestepped the politics. What's really political is to face off--like Rothko vs. Seagrams & Four Seasons. You want to say no to them, not before they ask. But its all too late for that now, innit?
Talk about the giants of AbEx. Watched Coffey on IFC the other night. Oh that Pam Grier --was there ever a more satisfying feminist? Now there's a liberal.

Idon'tbathe said...

Uh huh.
Got to, wanna, got to, wanna.
Raise your hand. Raise your voice.
Raise your head up from the desk.
Look who's here.
Well well well.
Guess it's time.
For show and tell.
Well what do you like and what do you need?
How should I act and who should I be?
Cuz I got it.
I'm gonna give it to you.
And you know it.
What where when how when who?
Or should I supersize it supervise it supersize it oh yeah
Or should I supersize it suervise it supersize it oh yeah
Or should I supersize it supervise it supersize it oh yeah
Or should I supersize it supervise it supersize it oh yeah.
I'm gonna give you the answer tonight.
Gonna give you the answer anytime, that's right.
Well I don't wanna take it slow.
So tell me now I got to go cuz I got it.
I'm gonna give it to you.
And you know it.
What where when how when who?
Raise your hand. Raise your voice. Raise your head.
Up from the desk.
Look who's here.
Well well well.
Guess it's time.
For show and tell.
Got to, wanna, got to, wanna.
Oh what should I do and where should we go?
What should I bring?
I think you know that I've got it.
I'm gonna give it to you.
And you know it.
What where when how when who?

zipthwung said...

YIKES! I have been eating these (used to love them until formula changed) since 1975. What first clued me in on the ingredient change was the fact that the texture changed radically. Whoever can speak, speaking now to the whole nation, becomes a power, a branch of government, with inalienable weight in law-making, in all acts of authority. It matters not what rank he has, what revenues or garnitures: the requisite thing is that he have a tongue which others will listen to; this and nothing more is requisite. Expressin aint their subject
Because they like to follow
The words, the style, the trend,
The records I spin.
Again and again and again
Yo, you on the other end.
Whatch a brother playin dope rhymes with no help.
Theres no fessin and guessin
While Im expressin myself.
Its crazy to see people be
What society wants them to be. but not me!
Ruthless...They are soft now, started out actually very dense, almost difficult to bite - I used to cut them up. Also the taste has changed towards something much sweeter; therefore more palatable to the general public, thereby increasing profits. This is unacceptable.
There has been constant debate about lsquobasicsrsquo and lsquofrillsrsquo though these terms have not been clearly defined. More recently there has been more serious consideration of the curriculum but this has been overtaken by a lsquomarket forcesrsquo view of schooling.
External economies of scale can also be realized from the above-mentioned inputs as a result of the company's geographical location. Thus all fast food chains located in the same area of a certain city could benefit from lower transportation costs and a skilled labor force. Moreover, support industries may then begin to develop, such as dedicated fast food potato and/or cattle breeding farms. Moreover, it is feared that competition could virtually disappear as large companies begin to integrate and the monopolies created focus on making a buck rather than thinking of the consumer when determining price. The debate and protests continue.

concrete phone said...

A banana is a convention of the natural world. Working within convention helps keep the banana soft and sugary on the inside and, well, you know on the outside. By examining the convention of the banana, you are able to fiddle with some of the less palatable aspects, the dark spots on the skin, the ripe time, necessary for shipment. Still the best banana ever is the one you pull direct from the tree, from the mother convention.
Most bananas are not artists! Thankfully! However artists tend to work within contentions too! They fiddle them to create a more or less palatable convention/object, add their own DNA and up it comes. In a sense they too are pulling from the mother convention. However conventions change. For the banana this may spell bad news. With a convention change of say sulfuric acid to the air in large enough quantities, the banana may be forced to give up its fight and the convention of the banana is over. And just as one is over, a new convention has already sprung up.
The banana is just a memory, growing faint.
Art, on the other hand, is always rich with convention, conventions. And it is with these conventions artist build. And some lucky artists even create new conventions, however they are not built out of the old banana, ripe.

CAP said...

Attention Tomory Dodge, you are now cleared to land on runway CRG.
However you may be required for a walk-off with Daphne Moon¹ at the end of this thread. That is all.

¹ Daphne Moon was the English carer in the TV series, Frasier².
² For those that like their comments spelt-out or noted foot-to-ass, Moon is substituted for Moran, possibly to allude to the state of the NY art world.

eageageag said...

"Roberta's point was that they were small in contrast to the huge monumental paintings of AbEx history."

I thought Smith was talking more about how the work skirts structure and recognizable subject matter and is more performative in nature.

To me this work is thin gruel. It is a painterly band-aid placed over an abyss, but not the interesting kind of abyss that conjures up the sublime, but one that represents a barren imagination, a cauldron of still-born ideas and feelings.

Nozkowski is different.

No Rush said...

absolutely crazy about tomory dodge.

No Rush said...



I always knew it'd be like this.
Love?
The Desert.

mm said...

That's it - Footnotes - I'm outta here.

zipthwung said...

For kids who cant read good.

zipthwung said...

'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go

I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door
And kept my mind from wandering
Where it will go

And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong
I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong

See the people standing there who disagre and never win
And wonder why they don't get in my door

I'm painting my room in a colourful way
And when my mind is wandering
There I will go

And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong
I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong

Silly people run around, they worry me
And never ask me why they don't get past my door

I'm taking the time for a number of things
That weren't important yesterday
And I still go

Fixing a hole where the rain gets in
Stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go.

zipthwung said...

You're so vain...

zipthwung said...

I thought museums were for the people - as a role model - and as such withdrawing federal funding might imperil the lifeline to real culture that the underclasses so desperately need to get ahead in life.

Personally I read the Robb Report - it gives me The Gift, that keep son giving.

Baking chocolate?(1)

Thank you, thank you very much.
4/16/2008 06:55:00 PM
Blogger zipthwung said...

From the NYT:

If this all sounds a lot like playing with dolls, you’re right. The core, most passionate audience for the Sims has become school-age girls. Across many years and many cultures, girls have long been the demographic group that most gravitates toward playing at “real life.” (Boys, meanwhile, with their footballs and toy soldiers, as with their video games, have usually played at inhabiting some external, aspirational identity.)

4/16/2008 07:37:00 PM
“Give me a museum and I'll fill it.”
Pablo Picasso

“Museums are the cemeteries of the arts”
Alphonse de Lamartine quotes (French Poet, Writer and Statesman, 1790-1869)

Museums: cemeteries!... Identical, surely, in the sinister promiscuity of so many bodies unknown to one another. Museums: public dormitories where one lies forever beside hated or unknown beings. Museums: absurd abattoirs of painters and sculptors ferociously slaughtering each other with color-blows and line-blows, the length of the fought-over walls!
F.T. Marinetti

“An ideal museum show would be a mating of Brideshead Revisited with House & Garden. provoking intense and pleasurable nostalgia for a past that none of its audience has had.”
Robert Hughes

“They took all the trees and put them in a tree museum and they charged all the people a dollar and a half just to see 'em. Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone? They've paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

-Bjork
(1) Bittersweet

zipthwung said...

what you got it get it put it enya

take it away in toto.

zipthwung said...

Something you should know about Mellowship Sunky In B-Major Lyrics

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Artist: Red Hot Chili Peppers

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I've got a mellowship, I've got a fellowship
I've got a nonstop "Yo swan" hello chip
Born to adore the big bad bison
Thunderstorm and a man like Tyson
Popcorn peanuts lookin' at big butts
No I cannot keep my mouth shut
Rockin' to the beat of the fabulous forum
My Lakers I adore 'em
Blush my lady when I tell her
That I do indeed love to smell her
Sopping wet your pink umbrella
Do the dog with Isabella

I'm so in love yes with an artist
Imagination, he's the smartest
Robert Williams, stroke and splatter
I attest to your gray matter
Living kings how true it rings
These are just a few of my favorite things

Good God, where's my sleigh now
Good God, playing for days now
Good God, any day now
Good God, take me away now
Good God, purple haze now
Good God, the baddest of brains now
Good God, any day now
Good God, ridin' my sleigh now

Being that I'm the duke of my domain
My hat goes off to Mark Twain
Singing a song about what true men don't do
Killing another creature that's kind of blue
Writing about the world of the wild coyote
Goodman Truman Copote
Talking about my thoughts 'cause they must grow
Cock my brain to shoot my load
I'm on my porch 'cause I lost my house key
Pick up my book I read Bukowski
Can I get another kiss from you
Kiss me right here on my tattoo

Good God, where's my sleigh now
Good God, playing for days now
Good God, any day now
Good God, take me away now
Good God, De Niro's insane now
Good God, rackin' my brain now
Good God, any day now
Good God, take me away now... take me away

Me my friends and the sex machine
Do unto others like my brothers bean
I know you've got a mother
So give her a hug
I know you've got a mother
With a whole lot of love
Billy sings and Basie swings
These are just a few of my favorite things
These are just a few of my favorite things
These are just a few of my favorite things
These are just a few...

eageageag said...

Wow man. Deep.

zipthwung said...

lighghtighlighght

eageageag said...

I hope someone out there is deriving meaning from the endless stream of non-sequitors this blog mostly consists of. I ain't.

zipthwung said...

monkey looks in no philosopher looks out.

-Rorrim

oilgirl said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
No Rush said...

nobody gets any laughs from your posts--stop trying to manipulate

oilgirl said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
No Rush said...

that was ez

oilgirl said...

Sorry to disappoint. Peace.

eageageag said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
b said...

Thank you thank you thank you!!!

FInally someone said it. Zipdung is the biggest problem with this site/blog.

This guy is spouting out complete hair-brained idiotic crap, left field comments completely unrelated to the topic, or esoteric references littered with obnoxious opinions because he is so self obsessed hat he thinks anyone cares what he says.

You can say freedom of speech and just skip his posts but the problem is he makes 50 posts on each entry making it a tiresome chore to skip through.

You can let people enjoy their freedom of speech but by allowing this it's also putting the blogs readers off... This is coming from someone who used to frequent this blog but now only occasionally checks it out due to the mutterings and ramblings of the self important zipdung. I'm amazed he can even function in the outside world with the amount of time he spends 'blogging.'

buttons58 said...

This is nice work.

carol es said...

I really like the focus of this blog, to isolate one work of art and ponder it for a time. It's how painting should be viewed. Better in person than on the web of course, but it is the next best thing. There could be a great dialogue here, and sometimes there is, but it's hard to weed through all the bullshit. And it's inhibiting to make a post because you could become under attack by meanies, losers and assholes. Then again, there are a lot of great commentary by some great minds that I like to read, but it's usually related to the work that's posted. my .02.

Katy Moran does beautiful work. I've seen it in person and she always impresses me with dream-like artworks that have a sort of fragility, floating constructs, sparse color, gives me a feeling of falling, and this one is like a Christmas tree bulb breaking in slow motion, like a woman throwing gifted flowers back at a man who was treacherous, a family/home broken, and then later hopeful...