Following them over the years has been like waiting for the next in a series of books bordering both on comic while tragic because they mirror our isms of the times so blatantly.
I recall the show in ‘97 and feeling like Gilbert and George were just everywhere I turned in NYC that year.
How they have managed to use a particular method of execution to its fullest potential over and over, elevating the effect of the medium by giving it their voice in so literal a way. You can hear them in the room bantering and challenging you. I find it the most audible inaudible art ever experienced.
Their work really does feel like an ongoing saga. What amazes me is how they’ve refined that same “execution” over decades, squeezing every last drop of impact from their medium. You can almost hear their dry wit echoing through the gallery, challenging you to laugh and squirm at the same time. “Audible inaudible art” is perfect! It’s like they’ve made silence speak volumes.
Following them over the years has been like waiting for the next in a series of books bordering both on comic while tragic because they mirror our isms of the times so blatantly.
I recall the show in ‘97 and feeling like Gilbert and George were just everywhere I turned in NYC that year.
How they have managed to use a particular method of execution to its fullest potential over and over, elevating the effect of the medium by giving it their voice in so literal a way. You can hear them in the room bantering and challenging you. I find it the most audible inaudible art ever experienced.
Their work really does feel like an ongoing saga. What amazes me is how they’ve refined that same “execution” over decades, squeezing every last drop of impact from their medium. You can almost hear their dry wit echoing through the gallery, challenging you to laugh and squirm at the same time. “Audible inaudible art” is perfect! It’s like they’ve made silence speak volumes.