by sean duffy, as seen last month at susanne vielmetter los angeles projects… please try to look past or through my low res iphone images… — miriam
p.s. the box is empty inside, I took a provisional image by holding my phone above it because I wanted to find out.
The red darts, flying through the air, landing in clusters, like insects, obviously, but possibly like people, crowds, looking for action, rubbernecking, bumrushing the main event, stalking celebrities, paparazzi… The visual effect of this pared-down art is wonderful. The red, the white, the gray shadows slanting right to left, up to down, the brown beige cardboard box. The vertical, but the spill, the spray, someone’s action, someone’s arm movement. Not trying to get them all on the box. Serving them up high for the sheer fun of it, the beauty of it, shooting them low to capture the flow: of time, of action, of violence, of adoration, of competition.
Red being the color of blood, of sex, of innards, of vulnerability, of fire. It calls us out. It arrests our attention. It does not soothe. But the holes left by these darts are many more than filled by darts — what happened to the misses? What happens when the surface is hole-y? When the air can get out, when the structure becomes weak? What happens then?
Do we stare at it with a sense of flabbergasted fear? With exhaustion? With jealousy? What are we to make of this art?
It made me feel, and I like that. It makes me itch with anxiety, with lust, with restlessness. On the one hand: cheap, easy, what’s the point. On the other: red darts, a box, a column, side lighting, what could be better?