new-york

“Science Fiction”

John Weber Gallery

In assembling this exhibition Peter Halley wished to make two entirely distinct but equally general statements under the umbrella of our cultural spleen. He wished, first of all, to simultaneously express and affront “a vision of technology and capitalism developing out of control, of social planning discredited and discarded, a vision that has become a mesmerizing nightmare, not a comforting dream.” He further urged viewers, as they perused the objects, to ponder the range of ideological bummers in recent art history, a period during which “the impetus to remove art from the space of the gallery has itself slowed down, stopped, and been reversed,” because of “both the weight of entropy on this idea and the economic realities of the last five years. . . . ” There is no stopping Halley’s prose. He had the gallery walls painted black not for one, but for every reason in the book: to “reflect

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