| April 28th, 2000
Dear Artist, At the Whitney on Wednesday there's lots of films behind curtains in dark rooms. One loop is a guy getting himself tattooed, then getting graphically cut up and branded to a mumbling monologue voice over. "Hey, there's a painter!" She does huge cartoony pin-up semi-nudes. Something about the reclamation of the voyeur. Someone is draping blankets on pointy pillars. There's a bodysuit with digital screens on each shoulder. Over here you can pre-record your face and broadcast it. This means you don't have to talk to people in person. One guy has made a massive collage out of kitchy landscape jigsaw puzzles. All the newest galleries are in formerly meatpacking Chelsea. Warehouses--one is 15 floors of galleries. Go in, take the elevator, get off at each floor, visit three galleries. There's a theme: Big room. Minimal art. Cement floors. Desk at back. Directors on phone. Some are friendly, some laid back, others inaccessible. A steady stream of young artsy visitors. No bankers on Wednesday. Day-tripping collectors happen on Saturdays. Two themes in paintings: One is highly complicated uncompositional cartoon collages with images from media and advertising slap-dash in generally strident colors. The other is slick modernistic stripes executed like a graphic designer's machine shop. Some are like billboards but high-end color-field on polymer Arborite or sheet metal. One is hung like a bath towel on metal rods with a back and a front. Then there's Day-glow fluroscents. Frames nondescript if present. Unstretched canvas tacked, sagging on the wall. Photos, mostly 70's slice-of-life junky-chic snapshots of lesbian mothers and Mexican transvestite prostitutes. Installations like a 70's living room where every piece of furniture has a projector installed. There are little movies going on all over the room. Someone has built a diorama of generic New York and a model jet plane overhead does a loop of crashing into the city complete with taped soundtrack of passengers screaming. A big rock on a timed wire falls like clockwork onto a new glass plate every 15 minutes. Warning on gallery door: "Sudden Loud Noises." Best regards, PS "Where's the entertainment district?" (New York visitor in art gallery asking directions) If you would like to read a first-hand opinion piece called "About the New York Gallery Scene" go to http://users.aol.com/slowart/york.htm If you would like to see selected correspondence relating to the previous letter "A New York Opening," please go to http://saraphina.com/painterskeys/opening.htm |
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Robert Genn is one of Canada's most accomplished painters, having gained international recognition for his genre subjects on Canada's West Coast. He has painted in most parts of Canada, and in the United States, Central America, Europe and Asia. Born in Victoria, British Columbia in 1936, he attended Victoria College, The University of British Columbia and The Art Centre School in Los Angeles, California. |
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Bob carries on the tradition of the Canadian Landscape with fresh, painterly techniques and strong design, often and especially exhibiting his devotion to painting by reducing grand themes to small panels - painted in the wilderness he loves.
Visit his official site for more information on his art and books. Robert is a contributing editor to WetCanvas! and can be reached via email at rgenn@wetcanvas.com. Robert Genn's free twice-weekly letters can also be sent to you via email every Tuesday and Friday mornings by notifying him via e-mail at rgenn@wetcanvas.com. |
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