Zimmerli

I went to the Zimmerli Art Museum earlier today because, let's be honest, it was the closest option available for this assignment. I actually haven't seen any shows there except for when Ross Lippencott's band "The N Result" (no idea what "N" stands for) played a monster of a set including Beatles covers complete with freestyle rap from their resident thug. My expectations for any work being showed in the same building I sit and play Pokemon on my laptop while my Islamic Art professor laboriously goes over the history of Islam while at the same time telling us none of it will be on any of our tests...I lost my train of thought. Point is, I wasn't expecting to be wowed.

The exhibit I looked at was "Trailblazers of the 21st Century," and it certainly met my bottom-rung expectations. Looking at the wall of pitiful scrap being presented in frames worth double what any of these artists deserved to take away from what I am assuming is about a lunch break's worth of actual thought and execution I can certainly see that the curator of this exhibition was blazing something - and not a trail, if you catch my meaning. Actually, Daniel Zeller's "Elusive Quarry" was somewhat inviting but I can't imagine any second year illustration major who knows his or her way around pen and ink couldn't pull off the same effect if they would only ignore the demands of school, responsibility, and life. Gary Simmons' "Again and Again" was even more disappointing. "Again and Again" consists, in it's entirety, of the phrase "again and again" both clear and smudged out, and a simple rubric for creating silkscreen prints in numerical order on the pure white side of the piece that cleaved the page in half. I read the short biography the museum supplied and it mentioned some made up bologna about Gary's work containing strong relations with racial tension and stereoty...I just stopped reading because my eyes started to vomit blood. Figuratively. Gary's piece....the only piece that was there to represent him....was what they hand out on the first day of Silkscreening 101, along with a syllabus and a reminder that plagiarism is still frowned upon as though we all spontaneously forgot. As I left the exhibit I remarked to the receptionist that they would benefit from a small boost in security seeing as how I am feeling an urge to get the tire iron in my trunk and returning to use it the only way I know how: destroying bullshit.

I hate being right. I'm not often right, but my pessimism is my spidey-sense and I will follow it wherever it goes. Unfortunately, lately, it's been bringing me to galleries.