Looking at Frames.

The Guggenheim Collection: 1940's till now is over at the NGV on Sunday. The first room is the best for me, the first room as you turn right especially. There as you turn right is a bit of a cluster of yellowing oil, palette knifed and ochered stuff. Its all a bit pottery and twine. These post war abstractions plus the silly op and the kinetic works (except the Fontana upstairs is better) add up to something optimistic and playful and none too fearful. Post war I guess. Its like the 'funk' of the materials is enough. I think my liking the chunked oils is just the shock of seeing texture. Shit painted like it was painted, not mediated by an interface, T-shirt or sticky tape.

As we chatted through the exhibition my friend and I kept talking about materials, but had started describing frames and mounts instead. We liked this, but not that, couldn't see the work cause of this etc. I don't mean the old stuff is better than the new stuff, but as works are forced into the similar longevity of oils, the frames , the compromises, the little hats and boots they have to wear so they don't hurt themselves don't escape comment.

Description of materials and matter and a common sensation with pals towards them can be sweet (SWEEEEET) communication.

But It's when you are going to shows and complimenting the hang and poo pooing the frames and not much else, nothing is fogging your glasses or making you want to make work, you sought of know perhaps that its all a bit polite and its all a bit mutual admiration society. Maybe this is a nice thing to do - you want to like someones work but sometimes you can be left clasping at straws and frames and hangs.