Braggadocio and Self Loathing: Triennial at the New Museum

I loved the Triennial at the New Museum. So far none of the reviews I've read have it right, especially the atrocious piece in the times, which reveals a perspective so woefully out of touch it is difficult to believe this is the paper of record. Conversely, perhaps this is exactly the kind of review one should expect from the paper of record.

To be clear I don't have it figured out either (yet), but I do think the show marks a huge step forward, and is one of the most successful conceptual-political-aesthetic-emerging-artists exhibition I've ever seen. The artists are a very diverse group--excellent, yes--and the art is challenging, fascinating, and beautiful. Much is devoted to internality-externality, the ephemera of contemporary society, and the bizarre melding of identities and conditions in constant turmoil and flux--some of the most interesting art throws this against a surreal-feeling totalitarian, static background. Collage unifies much of the work, and we as audience are brought into many of the pieces. I even enjoyed an animation piece from Oliver Laric.

It is difficult to know where the exhibition begins and ends, and how exactly to navigate the halls and galleries of the space. Impressive is a Josh Kline installation (FREEDOM) featuring an Obama-esque speaker in Zuccotti Park--this will leave you feeling uncertain, troubled, and perhaps, hopeful. Hopeful because you will exit the museum knowing you've experienced an exhibition full of the work of artists who know the deep melancholy of life today, who are suspicious of the dubious promises of a brighter future, and who are capable of expressing something of it in art.

You'll read about Juliana Huxtable in the coming weeks, as you very well should. She's the face of a trans world.

They're onto something at the New Museum.