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Posted inArt

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.

Posted inArt

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 …

Posted inArt

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 …

Posted inArt

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.