Word: plastic
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Strobes & Sadism. In what rapidly became an ambulatory return to uninhibited childhood, spectators first passed a wall of ten shimmering, plastic prisms designed by Charles Ross, next tripped up and over a glass-decked platform conceived by Stephen Antonakos, with giant candy-colored neon tubes flicking on and off in programmed patterns, lighting them from beneath and above. The experience told them exactly how an ant feels walking across a Coca-Cola sign. Then it was on to James Seawright's electronic cathedral, where their movements were recorded by an electronic brain that transmitted signals to each of twelve...
...befoozled. Should he wander into Manhattan's Frumkin Gallery this week, he will find a partner in bemusement. Hung by two wires from the ceiling is a large plywood artist's palette, smeared with paint and with a paintbrush affixed to it. On the palette, in black plastic letters, is the question: "What's It All Mean...
...everything from minimal art to maximum drip. On the walls hang dreamlike, deft pen-and-watercolor landscapes, depicting logs, brooms, brushes and other oddments, poking fun at the high turnover in art vogues, or the foibles of collectors. Modern Sculpture With Weakness combines a log nearly chopped through, a plastic wheel with a slice removed and aluminum tubing tied with string. The whole kids Roy Lichtenstein's slick abstract "Modern Sculptures" and a high-flown review that attacked their "weakness...
...manager wandered on stage, looking more like a dancer than any of the troupe who were resting on stage in a variety of comfortable "Not Dance" positions. The dancers meandered on and off stage. The bewildered audience was at times presented with no dancers, just the transparent and decorated plastic envelopes of the set, and the rattle of the score. One by one the audience drifted out during the five minutes that ensued. Those who remained applauded wildly as the dancers reappeared, deadpan as ever...
Italy's Alberto Burri, who began by charring panels of wood, now creates haunting images by scorching skeins of plastic; after all, since nature is in a state of constant metamorphosis, fire, which transmutes plastic's clarity into murk, is a legitimate artist's tool. Philip McCracken offers a long, narrow Plexiglas case, with five light bulbs lined up inside, four of them shot to bits and bullet holes piercing the case on either side of them. The piece seems to ask the question "When?" as the eye canvasses the damage already done and the mind awaits...