THE VILLAGE VOICE
Best In Show
by R.C. Baker
'NeoIntegrity'
Ahhh, a summer salon show with a vengeance—nigh on 200 artists presenting sculpture, painting, photography, video, and comix, the famous and not-so hung six high up the walls. Speaking of hung, there's a dude in horn-rims sporting a major erection, his stiff posture against a stucco wall more evocative of dissolute '70s hedonism than even his Supertramp T-shirt. This 2007 photo is complemented by a life-size painting of Nancy Sinatra in those high white boots, surrounded by fab, Vegas-scale lettering. Among the numerous treats are a feverish abstract painting of salmon-colored circles; a touchingly humble sculpture of a water bottle, dowel rod, and red drips; and the startling image of a burning car done in silk-screened chocolate—plus a flamboyant pyramid of pipe cleaners and feathers, its drag vibe tempered by a poignant photo of a pink arcade crane (the type where you maneuver a claw to pluck up a stuffed animal) rusted and listing on the street, awaiting its date with the garbage truck. The juxtapositions are keen, the manifesto is heartfelt—"Commodity is not the reason to produce or appreciate art"—and the joint's air-conditioned. If you need more, go back to wherever it is you came from. Derek Eller, 615 W 27th, 212-206-6411. Through August 24
Best In Show
by R.C. Baker
'NeoIntegrity'
Ahhh, a summer salon show with a vengeance—nigh on 200 artists presenting sculpture, painting, photography, video, and comix, the famous and not-so hung six high up the walls. Speaking of hung, there's a dude in horn-rims sporting a major erection, his stiff posture against a stucco wall more evocative of dissolute '70s hedonism than even his Supertramp T-shirt. This 2007 photo is complemented by a life-size painting of Nancy Sinatra in those high white boots, surrounded by fab, Vegas-scale lettering. Among the numerous treats are a feverish abstract painting of salmon-colored circles; a touchingly humble sculpture of a water bottle, dowel rod, and red drips; and the startling image of a burning car done in silk-screened chocolate—plus a flamboyant pyramid of pipe cleaners and feathers, its drag vibe tempered by a poignant photo of a pink arcade crane (the type where you maneuver a claw to pluck up a stuffed animal) rusted and listing on the street, awaiting its date with the garbage truck. The juxtapositions are keen, the manifesto is heartfelt—"Commodity is not the reason to produce or appreciate art"—and the joint's air-conditioned. If you need more, go back to wherever it is you came from. Derek Eller, 615 W 27th, 212-206-6411. Through August 24