The Omen - A Critical Review

Albert Oehlen & Paul McCarthy @ Gagosian, NYC

What happened to Chelsea? There used to be an equilibrium to the madness. Enough sugar to make the bitter business end of the art market go down. When was the pivot? Wind your way from 29th to 19th street on any given Friday, let’s say this Friday, May 5th and it will appear that this little bubble world has begun to show signs of cultural and cognitive decline. It no longer feels youthful and inspirational. It feels corporate and out of touch like a middle-aged man with dad-bod and receding hairline who still thinks he’s cool and relevant. I spent two hours searching for something, anything inspirational and I was surprised to find Paul McCarthy in a two person show at Gagosian. Now, McCarthy isn’t everyone’s favorite cup of tea. His work can be dark and gross and that’s okay because it’s supposed to be like that. Usually, his work makes me feel like I’m watching a dumpster diver rifling through the dark and seedy subconscious reaching out for the secret madness latent within us all. His work often comes off as both comical and vulgar because humor and disgust are both common reactions to insecurity and boy does he know how to push those buttons. Not so much in this latest offering at Gagosian though. Is it possible that bad boy McCarthy, the man who spent much of his career making infantile fun of rude bodily functions, has matured? Maybe. Although not completely devoid of humor in his sculptural rendering of Paula Jones, the highlight of the exhibition was his massive installation of an elevated platform surrounded by large scale airbrushed paintings of images from popular magazines. Titled “The King”, a disfigured silicone mannequin modeled after himself sits nude and bewigged up front and center of the platform. Out front and down below are rows of church pews and stacks of construction and installation materials that are carefully organized around the corner. The entire spectacle evokes a gallows or a pulpit or some sort of ceremonial rood loft. In fact, it is a reconstruction of an airbrush artist’s studio complete with the original giant easel used to create the painting that rests upon it. The pews below the stage give the viewer a place to sit and contemplate the artist’s elevated status as they gaze up at his wooden throne. It’s as absurd as you would expect it to be and allows for the inclusion of a giant clownishly pornographic image in the background. The piece could have done without it, but McCarthy can’t seem to help himself. It pairs nicely with Oehlen’s paintings as both artists are attempting to deconstruct the stubborn myth of white male creative heroism. So, I don’t know, maybe I’m being too hard on Chelsea. Maybe I’m the middle aged balding dad-bod who still thinks he’s cool. Am I just standing still as the world keeps turning all around me? Naw, Its not that. It’s definitely Chelsea. Come on Chelsea get your shit together and give me more of the good stuff. The Omen at Gagosian is on view through May 20.

Rear View @ LGDR, NYC