Monday, November 7, 2011

Andrew Moszynski

What could be more optimistic than building and fucking? In his show at Valentine, Andrew Moszynski assembles paper planks and platforms into illusions of rectilinear solidity. They cantilever into the clear light of day, supported by happy thoughts. He also devises wallpaper that repeats, potentially endlessly, every possible human coupling. The figures thus engaged sport aboriginal Amazonian haircuts, and are seen from above, as by helicopter. Their dedication provides, if not exactly romance, a cheering argument for species survival.
Moszynski grew up in Buenos Aires, the son of a Polish exile who served as an RAF wing commander during World War II, and who, in its wake, chose to re-settle in the New-World Paris along with many displaced Europeans (including a few on the losing side). As Moszynski was studying architecture, fellow students started disappearing, casualties of the Argentine Dirty War. He has lived in New York since 1977. Soon after his arrival, he ventured forth in the Downtown performance scene, one coup de théâtre at PS1 involving ballroom dancers and opportune technical difficulties. Studio work followed, and gestural oilstick landscapes were shown at the Drawing Center in the 1980s. Of two that were bought by the Metropolitan Museum, the artist speculates: “They are stored in a basement vault between the Lost Ark of the Covenant and Rosebud.”
I repeat this remark as an example of Moszynski’s bi-hemispheric sense of humor, North American Stand Up meets the doomed fables of Borges.
In 1997, exacting color abstractions in enamel were shown at Pierogi 2000. But for the past seven years Moszynski’s work has embraced narrative and the tender efficiencies of the explanatory cartoon, the architectural sketch, the illustrational aside. The new work remains sober, even grave, yet goes right for punch lines –– of a kind. About representation. About gesture and display. About human morphology. About the minimum signal needed at the edge of noise.
Along with the platforms and the “YMF” wallpaper (for “Yearly Mass Fuck”) Moszynski will show numerous small drawings that likewise suggest a very cautious optimism. Two examples to whet the appetite: A man leans the top of his head against a tree, circling himself with his shadow. Is he in sorrow, or resignation, or just obeying an enterprising structural logic? An exhausted man emerges from a cave into blinding sunlight. A guilty-looking rag dangles from his hand. Is he a murderer, a masturbator, a survivor of a mine accident? Is he the artist overwhelmed by the light at the end of the tunnel?

David Brody

Monday, October 3, 2011

What makes us different from the animals?

New work from Michael Ballou.



464 Seneca Ave. Ridgewood NY

One day, the fish crawled out of the swamp. They had pairs of eyes, dark eyes, and large teeth. Over time, of course, the temperature would drop, and the fish would grow hair. Their feet would grow hooves and claws. They would bellow and groan and populate the earth. And soon they were on pleasure cruises, slipping away from the ballroom to woo each other in the salt air up on deck, the ancient, gray-green sea stretching endlessly under the moonlight. What next? Perhaps nothing was ever next and humans are still lost in transition from microbe to beast to sentient aethete. We are still trying to leave the swamp, but we don’t know what limbs we need for the next step, as it were.

Is that so? asked the princess, her glassy eyes reflecting the spray of purple asters she held in her hand. I believe I should grow some sort of fins right between my two cerebral hemispheres. I think that I should swim into my synapses.

Don’t you mean your sinuses, laughed the handsome swain at her side.

She frowned and broke his head off — snap!— just like that. She peered down his neck. There were no fins inside, or anything else. But drifting out the chimney that used to be his neck was a fine mist — his narrative entrails now liberated, creating a bewildering perfume that spread across the garden like regret. From on high, the beasts looked down: golden calves and portentous ravens, flowered elephants and sacred wolves. Hollow-eyed creatures all, they uttered low cries as they breathed in the fractured stories of those who had passed their time among the living.

Kurt Hoffman

Michael Ballou is a visual artist who works in diverse media, including film, installation, performance and sculpture, and has a history of organizing events that foster interaction between artists. In recent years, he has exhibited at the David Zwirner Gallery, Pierogi 2000 Gallery, the Brooklyn Museum of Art, Xavier Hufkens Gallery, the Kunsthalle (Vienna), among others.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Lars and Lori

valentine is pleased to present new work by Lori Ellison and Lars Swan.

Please join us for the opening on September 9th. from 6 - 9.
The show will run through Sunday October 2nd.
In addition Cibele Viera will be showing her photographs on the hall wall.
valentine is opened Saturday and Sunday from 1 - 6 and by appointment.

Monday, August 1, 2011

VALENTINE will be closed in August and will reopen on September 9th. with Lars Swan and Lori Ellison in the main space and Cieble Vieira on the hall wall.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011



Opening Friday July, 8, from 6-9
the show runs from July 9 through July 31
VALENTINE is open Saturdays and Sundays from 1-6

Valentine will preview its new space in July after which we will close in August and reopen in September with new work by Lori Ellison and Lawrence Swan.