Paint’s materiality has a capacity to release meaning into the work, to underscore our vulnerable bodily presence in the world and time.
Acheson does not care about trading niceties or being ingratiating. He would rather propose and debate philosophical ideas.
Instead of thinking of Acheson’s works as paintings, I have come to think of them as battered talismans, unfinished letters, and broken odes to his heroes, many of whom are artists.
I first encountered Peter Acheson’s table sculpture several years ago. A strange thing that continues to change through the years, the weather and the seasons.
Some artists need to be gurus, always insisting on their elevated place in the hierarchy, while others are happy if younger artists look up to them, content to have companions on their solitary journey. Peter Acheson belongs to the latter group, which is one of the reasons why his current exhibition, Rusted Giacometti, is taking place at NOVELLA (October 13–November 17, 2013), the latest addition to the still-expanding, Lower East Side gallery scene.
This is an essay about communication and exchange between painters. It has to do with developing a shared language, and with exploring the nature and extent of our theoretical basis in painting.