Adams, Cerrillo, Perkins
28/03/2003 - 03/05/2003
Massimo Audiello
526 West 26th Street
No.519
New York, NY 10001
tel 212.675.9082
fax 212.675.8680
audiello@msn.com
www.massimoaudiello.com
The show will open on Friday, March 28, 2003 and will run through May 3.
image: Jose Leon Cerrillo, “I Couldn’t See the Dolphins” (detail),
2002, Denim, paint pours, 120″x 60″
Adams, Cerrillo, Perkins
Massimo Audiello is pleased to present a group exhibition featuring the
work of Derrick Adams, José León Cerrillo, and George Perkins. The
show will open on Friday, March 28, 2003 and will run through May 3.
In this energetic show of painting, sculpture, and photography, serious
questions spring from playful responses to an out-of-balance world.
Adams uses a variety of media to show the shape-shifting force of
popular culture in our lives, and how, especially in the city, the fantastical
and the mundane mingle to make us the more-than-human creatures we are. For
this exhibition he will create an unusual back-stage environment, where
heroic and freakish costumes hang on the racks and the viewer is free to
play and explore. Are we the children waiting for our super-heroes to
arrive, or is it ourselves being challenged to don the costumes and
perform?
Cerrillo creates painting-based environments that merge the
skateboard shop with the artist’s studio. His materials can include canvas,
formica, whiskey and deer-hide. And the acrylic paint finds itself in both
conventional and unconventional places. The relation between these
objects and the paint is surprisingly formal, but it is also like a
personality caught in the act, laid bare by revealing gestures, and we
can’t help but spy a dubious secret-life that is colorful, vain,
and mischievously despairing. It is an envious relationship, where things
pretend to be paintings and paintings pose as things, and it is
difficult to tell which is more jealous of the other.
Perkins’ photos; an elegant series of dented auto-bodies,
brings the urban-mundane to the point of abstraction, but the process is left
deliberately open. The images look like coolly collected evidence,
perhaps the secret documents of a crash-test, and at the same time they are
possessed of an intellectual beauty that is undeniably warm. In
contrast to the message that a car is magical space where comfort and control
marry adventure and surprise, Perkins gives us something severe as a monument
and deeply uninhabitable.
