Unseen pages. The 2020s.
This is the first artist text I have written since being in Linz. I believe it was deemed to risqué and never used. It was definitely inspired by Steve Aylett, and of course the works of Georg Pinteritsch:
17.11.21
Have you ever wanted to dive into a product that really says what it does on the tin?
Yes?
Then ‘pool model 1’ is your red hot poker.
A private pool that tells you how it is in this age of juddering catastrophe.
Yours for more than all of the babies in Africa!
Diving into this catalogue is like dipping yourself in yesterday’s oil, tomorrow. It’s not just the carefully arranged dip, tryp and mono tychs, man. It’s the pure blinding spectral range of the whole experience. Feel it burn on yo skin as you trip on in to the show: here an incomplete landscape of the real, there a complete 2D almost isometric, somewhat pixelig tableau for the unseeing. Yow!
Want a monochrome statue of repeating bums? You got it.
Want more finely crafted trainers than you can shake a pointy stick at? Coming right up!
Wanna watch two giant heathens cudgel each other to death with grossly engorged cocks. Yes, you can.
PLUS digifire!
If you’re a wondering where all of this hocus pocus materialised from, then it all stems from the savant hinterbrain of one grizzly ol’ painteritsch – Mr Pinteritsch, G. A painter who is more druid than sculptor, more dark art arranger than direct explainer. Has he got problems? Probably. But haven’t we all? Can he make art? Hell yeah.
Darlin’, there’s postmodern Boschian fields in here that’ll blow you to kingdom come.
There’s lines o’ traipsing goobs, Stripes, pipes and stabbin’.
It’s got the lot, honeypie.
You’ll never need to buy another apocalypse again.
Want it smart? Step right up. Want it stupid? Come right in. You can wonder at the complex relationships within individual pieces whilst rolling your eyes at all that branded merch until the cows come home, turn themselves inside out on your living room carpet and start whispering the name of the devil – outloud – and you won’t mind, because you’ll be too busy deciphering the symbols written in their still-pulsing entrails.
That said, it’s not that there’s any actual witchcraft, so don’t worry. It’s all perfectly safe to hang on your living room wall. It’s only made of marker pens, mate. Chill. But also, BEWARE. There is a weird, historical folding going on that places the dark ages splash into the classical, splurt into a shopping mall near you. Which calls into question whether that computer game you just bought for little Johnny might not be worryingly more analogous to the rat on a stick that his great great great times ten dear old grandfather used to cudgel his toothless old wife to death with than you first thought when you unwrapped it early one Christmas morn.
And if you’re wondering what happened to ‘pool model 2’, then me too.
Why not check with Charon when it’s time to cross over?
www.sambunn.net 