Wednesday, April 26, 2006

It's like Magid

Gina Magid paints on satin, using pencils, paint, and glitter. The drawings depict gesturally dashed animal drawings and abstract streaks. An owl flies into disembodied, cupped hands, a tiger lurks in a shimmering lake, and a cheetah or something eats a deer. The drawings are as static as traced drawings, and the layered interaction between images is unattended and meaningless - no suggestive associations, as in Salle; no virtuosic braggadacio, as in Walton Ford; and no apparent conceptual spin, as in Ann Craven.

Most of the drawings look like bad fashion illustration. Magid's glitter and satin - "girly, gaudy, glamorous," she says - confirm this fashion-inspired superficiality, which often produces base bijoux that remind viewers of embarrassing one-night stands. (Our morning-after pill was Amy Sillman's ambitious, vigorous paintings at Sikkema.)

The one exception is "BMX/Ghost Rider" with a more daring adventure in black & white. She may have consulted Franz Kline.

Gina Magid's paintings would have looked great in the downtown Vice clothing store (is that closed for good?) or maybe a Bedford Avenue coffee shop. It's outdated hipster art - deer and "nature" imagery vanished from hipster handbags and T-shirts a year ago. This just doesn't supplement the fashion-conscious scenes of Elizabeth Huey, the dystopic glamour of someone like Rita Ackermann or the melancholic glamour of Jack Pierson.

We HATE to write negative reviews, and always welcome persuasive comments that can change our minds. We've heard lots of praise for the show, but no substantial arguments.
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