Simultaneous resistance
The future—or what we think will be the next move in the game—is but a few steps ahead of what is, in fact, to be painted for the very first time. An art exhibition is inversely related to performance, in that the painter (actor) is the background, while the art (scenery) is the action (performance). And, then, upon closer examination, we see that which in large format acts as support for the expressive portrayal of a difficult subject, one that is pushed back-to-foreground, within a picture space that becomes a sliding, viscous, impenetrable barrier between the action and the viewer. It matters not that the action is inactive. It breathes. It lives. It's alive! This emergency in the street around which traffic congeals is a re-write of a trauma of lost control through the collision of new techniques, materials, and, of course, a once-in-a-lifetime moment in time. Stationary in the midst of the rush of media, propaganda, and publicity, the “shouting of madmen in the street," is a point in time-and-space, establishing a pinnacle around which swirls every color known to man. How high is the painting, and can it support a similar, physical state at the bottom of each of what appears to be the remains of a combination of never-before-seen colors on an infinite plane of pure white? Plunged into an ambiguity that inhabits the space midway between the floor and the ceiling, it appears as the record of the colliding forces opposing and resisting the increased awareness of the physical. The title of the image is merely a sample, a residue, of all art—and artists—who have gone before. What is, after all, in a name held by a brush? It is a measure of the resistant pull of the sticky, gooey pigment, used by the painter in the painting, and for the exclusive use of the painting's painter. Extending the width of the wall gives even greater appearance of having been stretched from ceiling to floor, and moving from scene-to-scene as the viewer passes. It is the relationship of an artist with himself.