For those of you in Chicago the Saturday after
Thanksgiving, a Special
ONE DAY ONLY exhibit:

Vomitorium with AgitProp
Curated by Philip von Zweck
November 25th 11-6, 7-12am

www.gallery40000.com for more info

I recently stumbled across Making the Empire Cross by Brisbane artist Priscilla Bracks. Her practice explores the human condition and world we inhabit. She is especially interested in chaos, change, the patterns chaos creates, and the way these factors impact upon personal, social and national identities.

INTIMACY + AESTHETICS 2:
Video Artists in Conversation

CONSTANCE DEJONG + TONY OURSLER

Wednesday Nov 8
6:30-8pm

DeJong and Oursler will present new work
and discuss their long-standing collaboration.

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Constance DeJong has made performance and video extensions of her writing,
presenting oral adaptations of her published texts. Since the creation of
her first novel Modern Love (1978) - published in serial form as mail art

FALSE HOPE

Gene Youngblood "Expanded Cinema" (1970) [PDF, 4.6 mb].

Some people over the World are concerned by the Paris riots and some cars burning, I can tell you that everything was always in order, all this was not happening in Paris but in the suburbs where the poor are conveniently located with the poor. In Paris all the rage is about the Dada exhibition at the Pompidou Center, you see Dada was such a revolutionary Art movement from way back, they say.

And it was. At least I was sure of it before seeing this exhibition which is an archetypal example of curatorial ineptitude. No attempt is made to convey the ebullient, lively and volcanic genius of the chaos developed under the non-sensical name of dada. In fact the determination of the curators to circumvent the shambolic bleeding heart of the dada critique is unavoidable as they have systematically laid their lacklustre show within a 3D grid. The 6th floor of the Pompidou is cut into small adjoining cubic boxes which as well as having a map-like reference such as A3 for the "social critique" box provide no relief in their vertical juxtaposition of professionally framed oeuvres. The effect of this perfectly laid out gentrification culminates as the curators seem so proud of the extensivity of their collection that they pin under glass seemingly every single bit of paper ever produced by every Dadaist and their uncle. Thousands of notes, drafts, leaflets are tamingly assembled as so many dead butterflies by an obsessive kid dumbed by his fetishism, blinded from beauty and feeling.

Hey, I saw this show too and it was great. Except I thought it should have occupied the whole space of the Galerie du Jeu de Paume instead of coupling it with a truly misplaced thingy (can't call this an exhibition really) about Charlie Chaplin. I hope the Galerie never indulges again in such audience seeking excesses, Chaplin was drawing lots of people indeed.