First off, y’all need to know that I am lactose-intolerant, and therefore understand human pain and suffering probably more than you. So, when I saw Misspelled-Artist-Name’s recent exhibition at an invite-only opening at [The Only Institution I Ever Cover], I really got it. After reading this most clever review, you probably won’t even have to go see the work to have an art experience. Never you mind that Great Critics One, Two, and Four have already written about this same exhibition, because I’m fresh. Now that you’ve assumed the proper respectful mindset (and a seated position), let’s begin:
“A long-winded quote from a French theorist that is profound but in a kind of horoscope way that can sort of apply to anything, and probably has a lot of words that you will have to Google.”
Artist’s-first-name-only’s work is of the moment YET timeless, because this is my favorite way to justify an artwork’s importance. I’m probably going to let you guess, based on my low-res photographs, what medium they work in. Mentioning the artist’s studio process would detract from all the interesting things I have to say. I’ve recently had a child, and now my worldview is superior, probably even to that of other parents. Being an independent thinker, I can deftly navigate the somewhat crass and outdated political views of an artwork without coming across as a bigot, and in this I create a pathway for bipartisan peace. If only this artist’s (or is it an artist collective, I forget) work could function at as high a level as my excellent ideas about the artwork — then imagine where we’d be!
Because I’m such an interesting person, this review has no thesis, and your mind should still be blown. I’m not sure if I actually even like this exhibition. But I’m not going to say either way; I’ll just kind of write around it. Having an opinion could possibly make me a scapegoat, and I’m not comfortable taking a stand. Except you definitely need to know that even though I’m white, I am one of the woke ones, and I’m going to publicly work out these fledgling ideas within my review, ones that have been accepted by the academic community for quite some time… so hold on to your hats! It’s a process! But I’ll still probably only write positively about not-very-exceptional white male artists. As a critic, I’m in the business of making friends!
I haven’t even told you about how this artist(s?) work fits into those ideas I’m forming about my own work: yes, I’m an artist, too. In fact, I work in the same materials as this artist(s) and will now describe the process in detail to you, because I know everything about it.
I can’t remember when that other artist’s work comes down from I’m-not-sure-which-gallery, but really, who cares because you’ve read this well-crafted, thought-provoking review that will probably be published in places other than this
lame blog. See you in two years when I meet my next deadline, readers. You can donate to my efforts online or in person. Oh, and I think I sufficiently covered my bases in this review about those artworks by those artists who I am probably catapulting to fame, but just in case, I’ll wrap it up by repeating my first sentence with a few words changed EMPHATICALLY.