new-york

Meredith Danluck

Andrew Kreps Gallery

I might have referred to Meredith Danluck’s work as “fake paintings” if that phrase weren’t somehow redolent of the mid-’80s romance of the simulacrum and the whole hands-off attitude toward painting that went along with it. The point is that her pieces are made with neither stretchers, canvas, nor paint, and their relation to the wall is ambiguous, or rather inconstant; and they follow artists like James Hyde or especially Moira Dryer in decanting the Minimalists’ reconsideration of the art-object back into a container that feels like a painting. Yet, like those artists’ works, but unlike those of their “neo-geo” contemporaries, Danluck’s are equivocal rather than absolute, tender rather than critical, ironic rather than cynical.

The Mother Ship, 1998, is typical in its materials: a blue monochrome consisting of numerous overlapping patches of light-blue satin affixed (on the sides as well

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