Amy Granat
Ann Craven
Ana Cardoso
Jacob Kassay
Jeff Perkins
Anthony Burdin
Robert The
Stefan Tcherepnin
Joao Simoes
Bosko Blagojevic
Tomaz Hipolito
Richard Aldrich
Amir Mogharabi
Dexter Sinister
A group show with Amy Granat, Ann Craven, Ana Cardoso/Jacob Kassay, Jeff Perkins, Anthony Burdin, Robert The, Stefan Tcherepnin, Joao Simoes, Bosko Blagojevic, Tomaz Hipolito, Richard Aldrich, Amir Mogharabi and Dexter Sinister.
With Amy Granat, Ann Craven, Ana Cardoso/Jacob Kassay, Jeff Perkins,
Anthony Burdin, Robert The, Stefan Tcherepnin, Joao Simoes, Boško
Blagojević, Tomaz Hipolito, Richard Aldrich, Amir Mogharabi and
Dexter Sinister.
Someone once said that confidence has no budget. It can be deployed
with a single word or gesture. It transforms experience, not unlike a
caption transforms an image. The best captions can be moved from one
picture to another. Their traction is timeliness, timing is
everything. Just as a commercial image arrests a certain conversation
happening in the public sphere, its textual foil needs a distinct
rhythm but a matched tempo. To be in-time means to get old just as
quickly, to age with the moment’s passing—like a pop song might,
like the best singles often do.
Timelessness on the other hand makes itself relevant by hedging on
the opposite: an exteriority to time or popular taste, to the
architecture of period. And can we imagine anything right now as
hopelessly démodé as any kind of exteriority? That’s another era.
In culture, there is no dignity in abstaining from a conversation
anymore, any conversation really. There is only prudishness.
Conversations might be key here somehow, or, to describe it more
generally, maybe it’s a certain promiscuity we’re talking about.
Some say we’re living in the age of promiscuous collaborations in
hip-hop, for example. Everyone is working with everyone, and its
degree zero seems to be the emergence of the networked single. This is
a song, oftentimes accompanied by a music video, in which four or more
performers appear, each contributing to a plurality of vocal styles
that—seemingly in spite of themselves—hold together as some kind
of textured whole. It’s this latitude of difference that makes
cohesion possible; it’s this that fills the sails.
Everyone seems to want to talk about networks these days. I’d like
to talk about momentum and its articulation. How does one articulate a
style that produces its own motion, that moves through culture by way
of a self-sustained and generative force? To remain at the center of a
conversation, one can’t really stand still. Ratcheting up the tempo
of production is one way forward. Another might be slowing down,
always working, but slower.
Speed itself has now become a certain style. Maybe we already felt
this, years ago, even if we’re saying it just now. But what, then,
did we really learn about ourselves that we didn’t already know?
Let’s talk about energy. Walk down Hudson Street, or into a
fashionable West Village restaurant. Take in the scene: the fabrics,
the patterns. Today everything will feel at odds, random,
clashing—tough combinations of material, mixed prints, rounded
peplums over squares, stripes with circles—and somehow, all
curiously pleasing.
New York City April 2010, Boško Blagojević
Exhibition #3 catalogue will be available during the opening
reception
Exhibition #3 is kindly supported by Azan art collection
Azan is a Portuguese Lisbon based young art collection focused on
experimental projects
Image: Richard Aldrich, Syd stripe split, 2005, Oil and wax on canvas 40.5 x 30.5cm. Courtesy Corvi-Mora, London
Opening May 11 2010, 6pm
Emily Harvey Foundation
537 Broadway, NY 10012 New York
Hours: Tuesday-Saturday 1-7 pm
Free admission