In past outings, each Miracle presented his or her stuff separately. This show is a true collaborative project. There are lots and lots of eye-catching works here, but the focus on quantity diffuses the effect. And the sculptures — a particular strength of Bay and Ratray — feel underdeveloped.
Still, there are intriguing Middle Eastern and Latin overtones, plus echoes of Andy Warhol and Shepard Fairey. Bay's own work often has a Day-Glo acid outerspace psychedelic Nam June Paik vibe mixed with the lush gold, velvet, and blood of Roman Catholic art.
The exhibit feels like a showcase for some sort of revolutionary pop religious cult concerned with gluttonous consumerism. Or maybe it worships consumerism. The burka babes pine for Yassy, whoever he is. Broadsides written in Nigerian e-mail-scam gibberish warn that your craving for Yeti nationalistic, patriotic power prevents peace in the world. It's a funhouse-mirror reflection of War on Terror America.
On one wall hangs a sheet of Fake Greg Cook's Facebook friends (he's been renamed Gary Frye). They're mainly people in the local art scene, plus a few celebrities. And there are teasing notes scribbled to local critics. Who cares about such inside baseball? But perhaps it's just bait for us critics. Tacked to a post is a note: "If you see Greg Cook/please say I not think he's fake, I was only playing./thank you,/Yassy Goldie."
Read Greg Cook's blog at gregcookland.com/journal.
: Museum And Gallery
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