Los Angeles

Thomas Trosch

Ruth Bloom Gallery

Thomas Trosch is an amusing, playful painter whose work could easily be dismissed as idiotic, as the farthest thing possible from serious painting. Remember Philip Guston, whose audience said, “See ya Phil,” the minute a figure stepped onto his buttery abstractions and rerouted his career. Fans and practitioners of “pure painting” get hives if they see a recognizable form—or even worse, text. Reading words on this precious surface destroys the potential for a voyage to the bottom of the sublime. By contrast, Trosch kind of paints like a baby. The paintings look like they’ve had a tantrum. In this light he might be considered another so-called nonserious painter, a juvenile who produces some wonderful work; the corner he must sit in, dunce-capped, is already populated by some to-die-for masters.

The presence of these works isn’t transcendental or funereal or ultrasober thingness, but, rather,

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