Paintings I
Fire. Dirt. Body hair. Bleach. Glue traps. Melting ice. Space travel. T-shirt scraps from an Ab-Ex master. And oh yeah: plenty of paint, too. View over 700 paintings, in 18 Conceptual series, meant to visually please, intellectually provoke and innovatively push the materials envelope.
Elementals
Humans, and our cousins, have been making art for hundreds of thousands of years, but never, in all that time, has art been created solely from the 4 elements: earth, fire, water and air. It’s elemental, and undone. Until now. 50+ works in the series.
Think of Jackson Pollock, and you immediately see him in his iconic white T-shirt, dripping with paint splatter. Unbeknownst to most art historians, when he was done with a day of drip painting, Jackson would whip off his shirt and rip it to shreds, obsessively saving the scraps in a plastic bag. After he died, his wife, Lee Krasner, gave the colorful fragments, now in a dozen bags, to a family friend, who stored them in the back of a closet in his apartment in the West Village of Manhattan, an apartment that Rousseau would move into some 40 years later, where he discovered these essential relics of art history. After careful assembly of these near-holy objects, he presents them now to you, as Jackson the Ripper. 60+ works in the series.
As the series title so succinctly puts: In these works, the mixed media is the message. Each work has a minimum of 3 media, often more. There are 80+ paintings in the series.
David Foster Wallace and Yayoi Kusama walk into a bar… 40+ works in the series.
Mantras from the monks of Mars. 125+ works in the series, dozens for under $100.
Unbeknownst to even most art historians, Giorgio Morandi, the celebrated Italian-Argentine Modernist-Minimalist, had a favored cousin who would hang around the studio in Bologna, doing small errands for the star of the 20th century still life. The cousin, Giuseppe Morondi, also wanted to be a painter, but, alas, was neither very talented nor very ambitious. His never-quite-finished works ultimately wound up at a New York City flea market, where Rousseau, spotting a kindred spirit, snapped them up and, respectfully, added a few finishing touches of his own, enough of an intervention that, in the end, he felt justified adding his own signature to the works of his self-taught soul mate. … 16 works in this series.
Andy’s ungulate. 25+ works in the series.
Foursomes are the Pu Pu Platter of Contemporary Art, with a painting, a drawing, and a photograph (each an original from another Rousseau series), plus a bonus poem. 30+ works in the series.
Plates from other planets. 25+ works in this series.
Inspiration or imitation? Imagination or abomination? 50+ works in this series.
Whoops. I did it again: knocked over a bottle of Wite-Out. 20 works in this series.
Paintings of other planets’ sunsets (POOPS): As part of its interplanetary documentary program, NASA invited artists to accompany its missions to distant galaxies so they could paint these magnificent new worlds. But there was a problem. No traditional artistic media could survive the grueling effects of space travel: oil paint, acrylic, gouache, pencils, crayons, pens and even photographic film all deteriorated beyond use.
But after trial and error, one medium that could withstand the lightyears-long flights was discovered: Frozen ice cubes, dyed with food coloring. So NASA knew it had no choice but to recruit Rousseau, the foremost ice cube artist of our age, to use these chilly blocks of color to depict the alien landscapes at dusk.
Each painting records both the planet’s local name (closest pronunciation possible in human sounds) and its NASA-designated space number. 22 works in this series.
No Gimmicks. No gussied up high concept. Just good ol’ fashioned abstract art. For under $130. 50 works in this series.
The coolest colors ever. Created from melting ice. 75+ works in this series.
Dude! Making paintings is surprisingly hard work! All those decisions about subjects and compositions and colors can seriously cut into beach time. So sometimes, when I’m feeling a little lazy and eager to catch some rays, I’ll put on my flip-flops, grab my board and just slosh some bleach onto a canvas before I head down to the sand. And by the time I get back, I have a beautiful abstraction waiting for me, all courtesy of chlorine.
A standard and a story.
Can’t decide between a painting, drawing or photograph? Why choose? Have a threesome!
Which way would you go?