Last No Exit: Following the Dialogue of and Debate in the Turns of All Strands from Within Painting
You can be sure that hall voices over the tram dominate this conversation. Discussion of the death of built-in discomfort especially by those who think they’re in some oddly configured house of Expressionistic or Abstract painting, was rather regularly being written by some of those whom are fresh Corn-Walls and Still-Screens of drawn and “historically mandated” predictions which nevertheless fail to come true.
Showing just how big the order for the present convened as a merchant pendant, anti-theorists suggest there is in fact painting emanating from chambered quarters of psychological scenes in shyness painting themselves a disadvantage with all of their critiques on the assumed examining. That’s correct : the painting itself is painting itself from somewhere else altogether, badly.
Add ten years on either side of now and the list still encompasses twenty years.
Obituaries for the neo-nazi avant-garde theorist surpass an even larger regularly written Sum of Whom. Compared with their counterparts in the conceptual slogan “Return the Tender,” painters seem to lack a discourse which though it may somehow counter their own mantra, still none of it was painting.
A series of private exchanges may dominate the conversation but do not come easy in the marketplace of ideas. Looking back i think i wonder why the words “painting is dead” acknowledge the lack of importance of first rate painters arted between time and their immediate subject. When the task has been crowded with large format photographs, text panels, and the drag of their accumulated histories- the highly congested territory they currently occupy would much rather be lively in exercise (round and out) and is the best that anyone can hope for really.
Various kinds of painters still struggle to map however incompletely the narrative before anyone else gets their foot in the door. This is when we come in, when several feet are caught in that door creating a gap large enough for all of us to fit through without much effort.
But last month’s roundtable discussion addressing The Death of Plenty to Do suggests that just keeping track of the twists of the pluralist post 80’s era is often enough. Rumblings and murmurings are heard down the fire escape, sighs and groans from behind the walls, and sometimes even the noises of face-veils and the quiet that interrupts them. Either way our Pink Block Cohort remains hard at work. In fact painting is a mudhole.