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Monsters Dance In Trees Good Boys Pee on Trees

Mike Rollins Fine Art
105 Bowery, 3rd floor, 212-431-0521
East Village / Lower East Side
February 6 - February 14, 2010
Reception: Saturday, February 6, 7 - 9 PM
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Mike Rollins Fine Art presents Monsters Dance In Threes Good Boys Pee On Trees, a project by Liam Everett featuring Sarah Adams and Sheldon Sean Moyer.

Kneeling on a folded blanket with his head slightly arched Aiden can see the screen flickering with moving images galore. The monitor is on a lower shelve at just the right height for his viewing pleasure. A constant humming of galactic explosions and zooming spacecraft can be heard in the studio from where ever we choose to stand.

Leaning at soft angels against the wall are pictures that have been culled from a reservoir of grey out of which pools of coolish blues and greens articulate the undertones. Looney tones maybe or lovely tunes. A log. A fence. A camp fire. Things that Aiden can point too and recognize.

On the working table that occupies the center of this room are sheets of bent aluminum that have been painted with curious attention. Forms that sound in the ambient pulse of the electronic. Recordings licked in digital foam and tongue. Fluorescent piano tectonic lit from above. Similar in phonic structure are the molecular like forms on the floor that stand on rigid legs balancing between the kinetic and potential. They lurk and pretend to be elswhere.

Even rainbows in the room are seen through a tinted film of grey.

Aiden turns periodically with bright eyes to see if we see what he sees. The racing scenes of star drama spinning in the monitor’s placeless fire. Behind him we mill about the studio impish and slow and stern. Our gaze and interests fixed in the still and motionless nature of the inanimate. There are stacks of drawings in the drawers, unfinished paintings in the corner, messy notes on the counter.

The room is filled with an ambiance of collaboration, the involuntary kind. One that has passed through the epic mix. All in the family.

One week prior to the opening the work arrives in a homely coat of black plastic.

I unwrap a small painting that was not in the room with Aiden that day. A stack of blue strokes that appear to have been made in one highly concentrated pass. A pastry glaze of shivering pigment suspended in the middle of a gessod panel. Crude poetics. The thing-image silently grinning and taking pleasure in its ambiguity instantly assumes the alpha position, making fine argument for half-life.

-Liam Everett 2010
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