Matias faldbakken at paula cooper gallery, new york electricity 4th grade powerpoint


So, over a period of several years, Faldbakken wrote the trilogy Scandinavian Misanthropy under the pseudonym Abo Rasul. The three titles are The Cocka Hola Company (2001), Macht und Rebel / Power and Rebel (2002) and Unfun (2008). As described by Per Gunnar Eeg-Tverbakk these books “are narratives pretty much devoid of optimistic values. Each novel depicts distinct environments and characters, but a pervasive theme is the hatred of human beings and contempt for humane values, particularly as they electricity outage houston are expressed in Scandinavian welfare society.“ Eeg-Tverbakk further explains—quite beautifully, in fact—”Faldbakken cannot merely write about misanthropy, he must exercise it,” and his

books are made up of an inconsistent and confusing mix of genres and text cultures, a flat and unconvincing set of characters gas vs diesel cars with ridiculous names, constructed environments and actions, Google-infused text material, a range of graphic illustrations, and the manipulation of trademark logos. One might say that the novels are interesting as art, but bad literature.

More recently, Pete Wells wrote in the New York Times about Faldbakken’s recent book, The Waiter (2018), “Faldbakken has a way with nonaction. He builds a delicious tension between the paucity of events and the lavishness of the technique with which they are described.” Thank you, Messrs. Eeg-Tverbakk and Wells. Apprehending and comprehending Faldbakken’s art—both written and studio-based—takes a hint or two, as well as time and effort. When you electricity song omd get it, you “get it.”

Clearly, Faldbakken is testing and challenging norms and conventions in contemporary art. Most of the literature about his work is thick with thesaurus-enabled, art babble referring to obscurity, opacity, inscrutability. All this blather is off-putting, rather than inviting. It is as confounding—if not more so—at times as Faldbakken’s art. What you really need to know is that Faldbakken is a nihilist, maybe a borderline anarchist. For him, all values are baseless and nothing can be known or communicated. “A true nihilist would believe in nothing gas relief while pregnant, have no loyalties, and no purpose other than, perhaps, an impulse to destroy.” Faldbakken himself describes his work as “anti.”

At Paula Cooper, the wellspring for many minimal and conceptual artists in the A-Z of art history, Faldbakken’s exhibition occupies two spaces on 21st Street. In or at the lower gallery at 529 W 21st Street, is an installation of a 1999 work, THE INTERNET. The signage does all the work, no explanation really needed. The Internet embraces everything good gas 76 and bad, scared and profane. And it seems almost everyone uses it, including you, as the signage reminds you.

Upstairs there is a mixed selection of sculptures from Faldbakken’s Screen Overlaps series (2016) and FUEL SCULPTURES (2017). His materials are always lo-cost, equally easily accessible and disposable, like used clothing, found objects and plaster chunks. The Screen Overlaps are series of repeated pictures (just as your computer screen presents multiple image files) glued onto found electricity storage handbook objects and plaster pieces. The images are thoroughly banal and intentionally forgettable. The FUEL SCULPTURES are inert objects: colored concrete casts of Jerry Cans with affixed funnels.