Thursday, March 10, 2005

Now let’s get back to the art scene criticism and storytelling. I wanted to see what was going on at the other galleries in the building, but they were all closed. It seemed almost a little rude. Like the collective statement was, “we’re not having openings, so why should we be open?” Well, here’s why: Because all these people are here for Ottmers and Brown, probably more people than come by a gallery during a whole day of business. Now, I’m not coming there to buy art. But I am coming by to look at it, and maybe write something. I’m also going to talk about what I see with my colleagues. And the other attendees may well be looking to buy.

Waiting to meet my friends, I could have seen three other shows. As people finished at Carrie Secrist, they’d head up to the other spaces only to come down disappointed.

When my friends arrived (other key players in Chicago’s dangerous art world, aficionados like myself) we had a good discussion about the work on view.

The Lilliana Porters in the viewing/storage area were great. Especially the pieces based on sheets of notebook paper embellished with found objects. The best one was a tiny paper rabbit emerging from the sheet and resting his head on a wee pillow. Another one found the bunny disguising himself with a freakish and hilarious furry tiger mask.

We ended up at Aron Packer to see the Tom Huck wood cuts. Technically they are beautiful, but visually repulsive. The subjects are gross social commentary (mutilated rednecks doing unspeakable things). I recommend it. There are also lots of other interesting and varied things on view. It’s like a smorgasbord, something for everyone.

In the end, all that fussing and agonizing over what to go see resulted in a relatively laid back night. Not much excitement, but a lot of fun.

*The movie has great special effects, or as art people would say: “a distinct aesthetic.” It also has a soundtrack which heavily relies on the Theremin and was a breakthrough for electronic music. I recommend you all go see it.

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