Here's an art rebus for y'all to decode.
Clues (if you can be bothered puzzling out an answer):
One image is a highly recognizable trademark-style piece by one of New York City's premier 3-D assemblagists. An artists represented by the unimpeachable blue-chip Pace Gallery.
The other image is by an up-and-coming NZ artist represented by a prominent K Road dealer gallery. This artist and their dealer will be going together to the Basel Art Fair's Statement section (an aperto gathering of supposedly on-the-verge,'youngish future art stars). Dealer gallery and artist's participation in Basel/Statement is partly underwritten by CNZ (7K and change CNZ$ to the dealer, 7K and change CNZ$ to the artist). The sums combined represent one of the largest grants awarded in CNZ's last round of contestable funding applications.
The two photos are posted here in no particular order.
Do I have an opinion about the similarity of images or the putative facts I've relayed in my post?
Of course not. And no clues will be provided about my non-opinion(s).
And in an unrelated matter.
HIGH STREET PROJECT ADDENDUM:
I once again asked HSP for a rejection letter (in a reply to recent HSP spam) and got a rejection of sorts. A one word email from Shannon (the HSP oracle) "Boring" opined the opaque ectamorph. I wasn't sure if he was describing my original proposal or my latest email asking (again) for my rejection letter...so I called the cold-city soothsayer for clarification.
By way of (non) explanation the Ichabod-like hsp 'coordinator' announced (inexplicably) that he was recording our conversation and that HSP's long standing non-answer to my quest for closure was just (according to the HSP ringmaster) " - how we do it -".
I shall end this post with an excerpt from
Charles Bukowski's
Aftermath of a Lengthy Rejection Slip
I WALKED AROUND outside and thought about it. It was the longest one I ever got. Usually they only said, "Sorry, this did not quite make the grade" or "Sorry, this didn't quite work in." Or more often, the regular printed rejection form.
But this was the longest, the longest ever. It was from my story "My Adventures in Half a Hundred Rooming Houses." I walked under a lamppost, took the little slip out of my pocket and reread it -
Dear Mr. Bukowski:
Again, this is a conglomeration of extremely good stuff and other stuff so full of idolized prostitutes, morning-after vomiting scenes, misanthropy, praise for suicide etc. that it is not quite for a magazine of any circulation at all. This is, however, pretty much a saga of a certain type of person and in it I think you've done an honest job. Possibly we will print you sometime, but I don't know exactly when. That depends on you.
Sincerely yours,
Whit Burnett
