From time to time even I have uttered the magic words. ‘Let’s go to Brooklyn!’ There is new reason to rave about the Brooklyn Museum of Arts. Wangechi Mutu is her name. So quit rasterizing (fancy word alert) yourself on facebook and get a culture fix in the mecca of hip-hop and avocado flavored ice cream.
Mutu was born in Nairobi, Kenya and her art is deeply rooted in her beginnings. Hers is a very special type of abstraction. A multi-medium journey through the lands of blood and honey with color, texture and emotion that will make you start talking in proverbs. Since the mid 1990s she has been spilling her imagination into the good warm world to our benefit.
Large scale collages (darkly colorful), video works, sculptural installations. Slightly witchlike! Condemning civilization for tolling our nerves and robbing us from some grace in life. Anti-war, -poverty, -consumerism, -political dysfunction, you name it! The world is broken and needs mending.
The world of Ms. Mutu is fluid, shapeless, colorful, random, dancing, parroting away the worries of humanity. Ramshackled urbanization growing by prestige buildings commissioned as displays of power. A cold gray world – corporate America, capitalism, condescending politics. Better to design carpets as a rabbit on LSD!? In the name of the color pink, yes!
(The fine blades of my pink knife (tongue) sometimes get carried away.) But! Ms. Mutu makes me grind and grind. Helmetless head on (Hemingway like). All the terrors and horrors of the world housed in her canvases is what we are paying for. The news! The blank spaces between canvases? They do mean something! Reflection! If they were filled with art then art would be meaningless.
What an emotional show in Brooklyn. It’s all one and the same, mass and energy (according to Einstein). I believe Ms. Mutu creates for the same reason I wear neck ties (and write) to keep sane. Well! It is an insanely good show that makes me wonder… Does god has nothing to do or too much to do? If you wonder yourself you will find your reflection in her works. If not you can still eat your jacket potato. Bon voyage!
