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The Thoughtual Painter

Posted by sma llested in imagroceries
Monday, July 28. 2008

You can not find any painting he could have done, to have a look on - they are all in-head. Though he once thought about really letting the one or other leap out, but in an early stadium of painting he saw colour bleed out, completely failed (so one thing for sure: he's not called Rudy). This taken and strong insult of his self thought mastership in extra-ordinaire artsmanship made him stop all further efforts to use paint. He nevertheless takes himself for a pictoral genius. Maybe he is, who can tell?

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The Ecstatic

Posted by sma llested in imagroceries
Friday, July 25. 2008


The Ecstatic
This type of contemporary provides the dynamics of a sleep bomb - once in a while a small eruption that might shake up connoisseurs, but mainly he's chatting and babbling about boring themes all heading to the same point: the act of human sexuality and this linked with morally rather uncertain motifs of religion. He got sterilly romantical attitudes and claims nevertheless to know what he's talking about. His painting show so often diffident, vague images of the 'sexual'. He takes offence fast when being approached to not just talk about but try a fucking himself.
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The Artificial Relicts (of The Pre-Punk Era)

Posted by sma llested in imagroceries
Wednesday, July 23. 2008

The Relict
He resumed from the continental '68-things was sucked into further developpements, what done to him damages beyond the possibility of repair. This got no link to any (german) RAF-actions, but with dull mechanisms that then reached out to grab his mental health: a wide board of several, lukewarm brands of herbal teas, worst lyricismatic products und futile discussions on topics that must lead to a state of madness, if theorist enter these. One result is the extrudation of of a rigid boring kind of art. Fully abstractized, lacking each and every content, every single picture has to be explained using long and dry-worded sentences. One of his works, in collaboration with dust grey poets: "The visitor's fear of exhibitons and private art views".
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