I like to think of Frieze as a pop-up museum of all things contemporary in art right now. What makes it pleasant and refreshing is the inclusion of international galleries — many that gave me reason to pause in my made rambling were based out of such faraway locales as Berlin, Hong Kong, Los Angeles, London. But that is the hallmark of New York — that everyone is from somewhere else.
It was validating to see so many artists that have been featured at office — Jordan Wolfson’s bizarre contraptions at David Zwirner were certainly a standout (below right); some stills from Jacolby Satterwhite made an appearance; and a yellow and orange Matthew Wong canvas perched at a corner, greeting passersby like an old friend.
And what self-respecting art fair would be complete without a bit of Takashi Murakami? (above right). Ann Agee's shoe creations (above left) bare a striking resemblance to Diana Rojas' pieces, revealing an interesting developing dialogue in art about fashion and commodity.
There’s a certain titillation in seeing big names that get tossed around so much: James Turrel’s experimentation with light-as-medium, Joseph Kosuth’s neon lights asking unanswerable questions — the legendary Art as Idea as Idea echoing in the empty space that surrounds his pieces. Neon lights are certainly having a moment in art — they are difficult if not impossible to photograph, and their effect is to reach out into the space around them and taint it with color, there’s even a sound effect, that small buzz we may hear if we listen closely enough: the more I describe it the more I understand why it attracts artists, for all these qualities are the same as a haunting, memorable work that attaches itself to the memory; listen closely and you just might hear the message.
Text by John Martin Tilley. Photos by Pola Esther. Cover image: Gina Beavers.
*yet another item to include on the long list of proof that Virgil's headed towards total world takeover.
From Virgil, who championed creative versatility as the chief curator, to the acclaimed artist he'd asked to christen the space with a solo show, Lucien Smith, to Onyx Collective, the off-beat boy band who added the audible layer that lifted the evening from an event to experience— we're proud to call all of these creatives office people.
Find out more on the show below, but first, find out more about our friends from these features: Abloh, Smith, and Onyx.
For his first foray into the art world— Abloh didn't fuck around, announcing during art week he would be letting Lucien Smith take over the OFF-WHITE store space, to present his most recent project to the public. The show is a series of portraits (aptly) titled, Friends. Basing the oil paintings off portraits taken on his iPhone featuring Smith's close circle of friends, there's a personal perspective that permeates each of the paintings, offering us the unseen sensitive side of Smith— slightly unexpected, though not at all unwelcome.
The series is a shift from the abstract aesthetic often associated with Smith's work— by way of his early art world successes. here, he approaches an uncharted arena of art, looking at his own life in an intensely literal manner. Despite the change of context, the series has not compromised the strongest components of Smith's style— the soft brushstrokes, that subtle palate, and the careful, delicate dedication to craftsmanship.
Sure, Smith's elite entourage are the ones eye-rolling at you from the back table at Lucien, and just like Abloh, all the hype around him can become headache-inducing. But whether or not you're in or out— Smith's work has a wonderful way of softening the edges, adding an air of approachable sentimentality to what seems like such an exclusive circle of Friends.
Having featured the artist in our previous print issue, and seeing his surreal, unsettling, and sarcastic film at the Whitney Biennial that year office was more than eager to see his newest exhibit. Wolfson is no stranger to the world of thoughtprovoking, and frankly uncomfortable, art. It's safe to bet that his third solo exhibit with David Zwirner, Riverboat song, opening Wednesday, May 2nd, will be no different.
His new work is as surreal, unassuming, and mischievous as ever. Riverboat song combines computer-animated vignettes and found video clips with pop soundtracks and a monologue voice by the artist himself. Since it's debut in London last year, Wolfson has revisited and expanded the piece, adding new scenes that will be seeing an audience for the first time here in New York. His work is inconspicutious, dystopic versions of cartoon characters reminisent of the movie protaganists you loved in your youth fill the screens of this exhibit.
What Riverboat song lacks in overt and overpowering aggression in comparison to 'Real Violence', it more than makes up for with its nasty intent. Wolfson makes us feel like we're all moment away from staggering, unscathing violence and moral decriptitude. He reminds us that mortality is a veil that can drop in a moments notice, and that blatant disregard for mortality fills our everyday lives. Wolfson gives us a small window into the contemporary soul and lets the filth drip out. His work is both direct and complex, forcing the audience to look within themselves and reflect. You might not like what you see.
Riverboat song is on display at the David Zwirner Gallery from May 2nd through June 30th.
