blurring the fable

In the fantasy land of Beninati much is cobalt, viewed through streamers of color and ribbon curtains of paint drips. Thinned but not (emotionally) diluted. Palm trees are multi-colored, they crop up in the foreground of a bathroom (WTF?). Rampant jungle flora through tinted, prismatic lenses. Allegorical and dreamlike, these paintigs are fairy tales for moderns. Each one tells such a lovely story rife with possibility, one wants to settle down with a good cognac and listen. So hark: up north, where the aurora borealis is screening, looms a naked, pink tree. Your spectacles are streaky, the light is marbelized. It's
paradise, in the cool of the evening; a classic case of the semi-awake dream. And at 80"x63", it's big enough to cozy up to and forget the rest of the rest. The nightmares are reserved for the drawings: dead rats and a hare with a goatee vegetate under the sun's radiation, on the horizon a mushroom cloud develops. Bowie's "Hunger City", bucolic version.
This is a strange, sumptuous show.

Funny about this gallery. They've been showing alot of work that deals with altered states. I like it, I like it.

Manfredi Beninati, at James Cohan
533 W. 26 st.
212-714-9500
www.jamescohan.com
through March 17