New York

Jon Borofsky

Paula Cooper Gallery | 529 West 21st Street

Jon Borofsky’s enterprise is the same but the inverse of Opalka’s. They both count, but for Borofsky it’s not simple continuation, but a containing device for an effusion of drawings, paintings, and small sculptures he makes to explicate his dreams. He marks each with the number he’s reached in counting. This, he told me, situates the work in his time, and also serves as a signature. The stuff in the show seems unselected, not weeded out, almost as if the transit from studio to gallery was direct. It’s like a year in the life of Borofsky. The gallery is cluttered from floor to ceiling with his produce.

The paintings, Borofsky said, began as marginalia in the sheets of counting which, stacked in a four-foot pile, form the locus of the show. “So all becomes one,” he said, “even if they appear to be very different.” Okay, but there’s a sense in which the personal, often mystical, subject matter

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