Since it’s founding in 2001, The Bruce High Quality Foundation has been using performance and pranks to critique the art world. The collective prides itself on “developing amateur solutions to professional challenges.” I’ve admired their irony, even envied their sense of anarchy.
Brucennial
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The Brucennial in Photos
It was a cold, snowy and slushy night in SoHo when the Brucennial opened. People were long anticipating the Bruce High Quality Foundation’s latest project which appropriated the Whitney Museum’s branding, packed a storefront retail space on West Broadway with a truckload of art, and placed almost everything up for sale.
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The Brucennial: Piece By Piece (Part 5 of 5)
And as soon as it started it is now concluded … in our final installment of the complete review of The Brucennial: 229. Lola Schnabel – Generation Next; 230. Tom Fruin – Didn’t like this until I saw the stitching. All our comforts, sewn together in a skin suit; 231. Shelly Silvers – Screen koan. This is really good. Loop solid …
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The Brucennial: Piece By Piece (Part 4 of 5)
The reviews never stop on Hyperallergic: 176. David Carlin – Ready for the wound. Lovely, actually.; 177. Aga Olisseinov – Looks like a pagan ritual from The Wild Wild West TV show. Love.; 178. Ann Gillan – To paraphrase and twist Bryan Ferry: Just enough is never too much. I want this …
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The Brucennial: Piece By Piece (Part 3 of 5)
And the review marches on with art reviews a plenty in the seemingly impossible task of reviewing the whole Brucennial. Today’s installment reaches #175: 111. Kathe Burkhart – FUCK THE UNDERGROUND. Exactly.; 112. Dolores Haydon – The horror of porn. The porn of horror. Cool the way the scissors and cutting echo the nearby Man Bartlett piece …
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The Brucennial: Piece By Piece (Part 2 of 5)
A continuation of the seemingly impossible task of reviewing the ENTIRE Brucennial art exhibition: 51. Sam Hayes – Reminding me of the Sharon Olds poem, The Pope’s Penis; 52. Unknown – Hula Hoop art. I have no objectivity. ROCKS! …
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The Brucennial: Piece By Piece (Part 1 of 5)
Five minutes. That’s how long it took me to figure out that I needed not only to review the Brucennial, but that I needed to review all of it. Piece by piece by piece. I owed it to them, some kind of return gesture. I didn’t keep count. I just kept moving. Somebody else can clean up the mess. As John and Exene sang, “The world’s a mess. It’s in my kiss.” But you know what? It’s in yours’ too. So, yes, Bruces. That was my tongue down your collective throat. And now my mouth tastes like cigarettes. Thank you.