Art history often seems to be an interpretation of events that follow each other nicely and chronologically, with proper explanations and reasons for every step along the way. A met B. B painted C to create D. D was collected by E, who brought D in contact with F, who showed it at G in H in 19-0-I.
By turning artists into verbs, nouns or objects, this story offers an alternative perspective of art history. What would happen if art history wasn’t a series of dry facts, but instead went out last night and got terribly wasted?
This text was originally written for the exhibition Confetti at Small Projects in Tromsø, Norway in 2013, and was turned into a booklet in 2018. In the summer of 2022, it was presented on the window of the project space Ahoi, in Luzern (CH) during their holiday break: they were apparently drinking On Kawara’s in the Eliasson, a local specialty.
Dude, last night was so fucked up, man i’m telling’ u, we had been drinking these On Kawara’s since two in the afternoon, sitting in the Eliasson all noon long with no Van Gogh in between, just straight on to Bock and afterwards where Tom, you know Tom right? went all Pollock on our ass with these double Serra’s, fuck! man, did you had those? we all Willem De Kooning’ed completely after that, Jesus Christ. then after those we went to this Mccarthy joint, you know the really Emin one? Cindy and Andy where there all Judded up, doing this Duchampian thing in the backroom, Miro’ing over the dance floor with these crazy Vasarelies. then for sure Reinhardt went all off, disappearing somewhere with Vladimir, you know how Vlad is right? well,…i say no more, hehehe, anyway, so after that, you know, i think, i think i’m gonna go home with these Koons right? so we go up to this Van Lieshout and i’m telling you i’m Turrel as fuck, with those really Struthian broads, Hirsting away, in that Princed-up Demand over there, you’ve been there right? didnt you take those Kippenbergers there? it got so Richter, i’m tellin’ u man, i’m tellin’ u, we’d been doing that Barney all night long, til the Rothko shows up and the Manzoni looks all Seurat. i was so Twombly after that, i really, really need some Mondriaan in my life these days… shit!