Your collages are moving, abstract, magnetic, captivating.
Paintings? Okay, I’ll call them paintings, if you insist. Your “paintings”
→→are powerful, elegant, grunge.
“Los Moscos,” like a map enlightens; but a map of what? Of my
A map to navigate the nameless roads and filthy alleys of some
→→deserted city, long forgotten?
“Kryptonite,” intriguing mix of colors and shapes arranged like my
→→brain on cheap gin.
Scattered, rattling around inside my skull. Yes, your “paintings” are art,
→→very fine art.
That installation you built with fence signs, mirror wall, hanging colored
→→lights, juxtaposed videos at the end;
That is not art. It is too plain spoken, too direct to be art.
It is a powerful sociopolitical statement, a ghetto
→→narrative, yes, but it lacks the aesthetic aura of art.
Your “paintings” are art, but that installation is not art.
That video you shot clad in antebellum skirt, shooting hoops;
→→Art? What were you drinking?
That is not art. It is not a sociopolitical statement.
It is just a silly video.
Don’t buy into the notion that everything an artist touches is
→→art; It is not.
Your “paintings” are art, very fine art.
by Thomas Wigington