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This piece shows three figures & their narrative is classical & Baudrillardian. The totemic figure on the right is the artificially resurrected sacred object meant to stand for the subjectivity of elsewhere peoples who were liquidated or assimilated into capital colonial paradigms. But the head is rather obviously optical, meaning its lensware, postbiological, is a surveillance optics, reinjecting the primitives holographic & alive back into the culture that hopes to reify those it destroyed. The middle figure again is the Orphean subject, cybernetic & longing reaching hoping that its historical u-turn, for Eurydice, who has long been butchered & modified with countless plastic surgeries, the differences in her retro styles & histories theoretically infinite, creating metastatic effects in the middle figure android. There's a bit of a gestural similarity between Android & skeleton fogure on the left, but instead of god & Adam of course, there's only the necrophilia of the android & the surveiklsnce of the serial grave robbing historicity.
2020
Giclee on Fine Art Paper
12 W x 6 H x 0.1 D in
17.25 W x 11.25 H x 1.2 D in
White
Yes
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Hello. I'm Leo Wyatt. I'm a poet & a painter. I've worked in retail, construction, grocery, & most recently, taught rhetoric at the University of Iowa. I'm trying to make works that take the top of your head off , that drive a burning sabre through a frozen heart . They are disturbed & made by wave sound by atmosphere & rarely approach a response that cld be called musical. If they are felt as such, that's more than one cld hope for. Many technics here are borrowed from construction & labor trades—I fabricate the backing support & frames, & paint on sanded plywood, hardboard or MDF, gypsum or sheet rock, cement board, & canvas. I use joint compound, caulk, gel, acrylic emulsions, alcohol & paint markers, charcoal & graphite, wax pens, spray paint, vinyl adhesives, wallpaper, fabric, computer components, tar, oil pastels, & oil paints. I use joint knives, putty knives, silicone tools, brushes, bottles, squeegee-like implements, palette knives, bristled objects, & more brushes. Because I lack technical & formal skills, the works suffer from both an historical myopia, an ignorance of the contemporary global art market, an absence of art world networks, & primarily from conceptual & technical planning & execution. This is an ongoing process, tho I'm wary of anything that stinks of re-education. I want the paintings to f{x} as offerings. I want the paintings to impossibly transfer their kinetics & molecularities unto the viewer, making possible, from their frozen crypt, a heightened attention & quietude in a viewer. Often the overproduction in them threatens the viewer with implosion, but the paintings are ferocious in their idiocy & dumb in their serious implacable desire to find the other, as maybe a postcard from posthumous source. The work, both the poems & the paintings, suffer from this romantic urge, from this leukemia of communication. They are unsystematic primitive waste excess their logorrhea is Whitmanian & Millerian. They are made from the bowels of hyperreality & by the remnants of the social once processed by capital, which is me.
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