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Thomas Virnich

Galerie Reckermann

Thomas Virnich’s objects, displayed in glass cabinets along the wall or freely scattered about the floor, are capable of being disturbing. It’s not that they are loudly provocative, or emit the flash of genius, but that they mingle the childlike delight in playing with trash with the legacy of sculpture in our century. Virnich’s lapidary frivolities provide an insistent counterpoint to the occasionally unbearable pathos with which the post-Modern spirit moves forward. For him, everything—cars, airplanes, ships—lends itself to being rebuilt, with a light touch—not perfectly, not so as to impart the strength of newness, but so as to be unsuited for use and to accord with the somewhat confused construction plans drawn up by protagonists of Modern Art.

It’s difficult to say whether or not Virnich intends it that way; he deals with his objects so unabashedly that it probably doesn’t matter to

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