new-york

Eric Bainbridge

Salvatore Ala Gallery

In the children’s game “Telephone,” one child whispers a story into the ear of the child sitting next to him, who then whispers the story into the ear of the child next to him, and so on. The game’s payoff comes when the last child gets up and tells his version of the story aloud, much to the amusement and delight of the other kids, whose short attention-spans and infinite imaginations make for a dazzling display of kiddie revisionism. The game is also an exercise in the creation of a hyperfiction: a larger-than-life, mannered rendering of the banal.

Eric Bainbridge’s art is like a physical rendering of the game. His world is one in which a familiar form—a pipe holder, a doorstopper, or a corkscrew—enters on one side and, through the devices of imagination, exaggeration, and a bit of sinister humor, comes out on the other side grand, frightening, and a bit obnoxious. Bainbridge’s obvious,

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