new-york

Paul Pagk

CRG Gallery

Paul Pagk knows the truth; you can follow the lines on his canvases straight (more or less) to the heart of it. You know the truth, too, even if you try to forget every now and again. The truth is that the Institution permeates our existence so completely that it is all but invisible, so completely that we hardly notice it at all anymore. Like air, like water—there are alternatives, but none of them are very practical, at least not for now. So, wherever we look, we invariably find that the institution is already there, waiting for us, arms outstretched.

Which is not to say that any of this is bad, necessarily: there’s no embrace quite like the institutional embrace. It is warm and all encompassing; in its cool serenity it brings a kind of forgetfulness. And unlike most significant others, the institution almost never shouts (why bother when a whisper will do?) only murmurs quietly that

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