Family Affair by Ren Quinio

Anti-Scrambler Scrambler by Pow Martinez

“I am not an artist, i am a sewage worker.
I paint my inner landscape.
I work with reality, but I dont like reality
I work with rules and limitations
working with time limits,
working less than 2 hours.
I dont paint everyday.”



“In telecommunications, a scrambler is a device that transposes or inverts signals or otherwise encodes a message at the transmitter to make the message unintelligible at a receiver not equipped with an appropriately set descrambling device. Scrambling is accomplished by the addition of components to the original signal or the changing of some important component of the original signal in order to make extraction of the original signal difficult.”

Artists are usually ascribed the role of being a transmitter of reality. But to purport what sort of reality this is has to be defined or determined for the works that an artist makes is themselves a reality of its own as possessed of matterness with its own logic of pictorial plasticity. Some of these gets lost in translation, not because the transmitting device or language used is faulty, but more probably on the subjective bias of each individual viewer, which is another reality altogether. German poet Heinrich Blϋcher asserts that artists don’t really paint reality, not because it’s unnecessary making it redundant or that we’ve gone beyond the mimetic function of art, but rather the artist creates metaphors to perpetuate myths of the supposed qualities of form, in and of itself. Even the supposed “real” is merely reduced form, making them into non-things (as purely pictorial) to make them only conveyors of experience.

And what is to be experienced ? But the actual viewing of the art, and underneath that if it’s made apparent, the process of its making, as Pow had shown an accumulated suite of drawings done for three years, where some were studies for other paintings that had been previously exhibited, aside from the two paintings that are duplicates, or paintings in stereophonic – one in mono, the other in vivid Technicolor. Both titled Aesthetic Police, with 2 clay creatures blasting fire in a camouflage pattern field amidst a rain of regular broken white lines, it’s a play on reversals and suspension of belief, but they’re probably made so out of mirth for the absurd, the funneled dregs of so-called ‘reality’, multiplied and amplified, to drive the point, of not making a point, if there need be a policing still of what is and shouldn’t be seen or pictured. The limits and rules are largely self-regulated, yet within what the senses can fathom. Someone should tell this to real life aesthetic police Long Beach Police Department officer Asif Kahn who relegates as part of his duty rendering aesthetic judgment on pictures taken in Long Beach (as the cause of detention for photographer Sander Roscoe Wolff https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20110815/23584515540/police-say-they-can-detain-photographers-if-their-photographs-have-no-apparent-esthetic-value.shtml)

Anyo by Blic

Anyo, Tagalog for appearance, is a unique portrait of urban stories narrated with an inimitable visual language and icon. Blic’s icon- the hand- depicts life and the belief that every life is a story yearning to be told underpins Anyo’s message. By blurring the boundaries between real and imagined as well as perception and perceived, Anyo invites us to identify with a remarkable twenty-first century selfie. Blic’s second gallery exhibit is a significant milestone in a journey borne out of near paralysis and despair. He is a self-taught artist who, like Basquiat and perhaps all other artists, does not think of art when he is painting-but tries to think about life. And he likes to paint on streets. Blic’s inspiration appears varied and bewildering- growing up anxieties, the mundane struggles of life in a “megapolis”, an overgrown playground, a gummy-bear, furry animals or a strawberry smoothie? Regardless, the artworks depict near perfect geometry with attention to height, width and depth. The many forms do not ignore the proportions of skeletal structure- still or moving. As the eye in Anyo#7, with careful mix of color, the artist masterfully adheres to the rigors of light and shade. Anyo unapologetically violates conventions of specific genres. Blic has confidently placed on canvas his vivid imagination and style- demonstrating his maturity as an artist. He has charted his own course and shown that- in Picasso’s words- “If you imagine it, it is real”. To some, at first glimpse, Anyo may appear an eyesore- unworthy of a second glance. Yet Anyo asks the viewer to look again. The artworks challenge the limits of perception as it pushes us to see ourselves and others in the everyday- at a particular place or time. Anyo encourages us to shift our gaze away from the billboards and the handhelds. The blank areas on the canvas are for the viewer to fill in.

Anyo disrupts our self-perception and judgment. Perhaps Anyo#1 says “Shit Happens”. However, by asking the viewer to interpret, Blic says “Shit” does not matter- you do. Anyo uncompromisingly peels away the layers of character and masks- is Anyo#2 a Filipina beauty or lustful lover? And paradoxically, whilst jarring our conscience, Anyo provides an escape from life’s stark realities. Anyo helps understand better the process of creativity as a biological tendency and as a release from inner demons. In doing so, the artworks are not out of place anywhere. Anyo#4 – typhoon or Pasig bathers?- may belong in a child’s bedroom, in a gallery and on the streets. Like graffiti, the artworks do not beg for legitimacy and inclusion- the viewer may find Anyo#6 beneath the sign ‘BAWAL UMIHI DITO’, buffered subsequently by Barangay officials and the ‘vandals’ reprimanded. With Anyo, Blic presents a splashing, clanging, banging, groaning, screeching, thump-thumping, thud-thudding and sometimes silent visual ode to Manila’s inhabitants. Reminding us that they- not the neon, glass, concrete, metal and spaces- are its soul.

Before you walk on by, stop for another look.

-Jeetendra Marcelline

Seduction of the Innocent by Skinner

Over the last two months I have been working on paintings for my show at Vinyl On Vinyl in Manila, Philippines. 10 paintings that were to combine my love of silver age comics, the aesthetic style of it influenced from different kinds of comics at the time of the silver age. A little before or after as well, KIRBY/DITKO bombast and action, E.C. Comics creepiness and sci fi weirdness as well as pre silver age stuff of the likes of L.B Cole.

I set out to do some weird comic book panel art that would be fun and easy to do for the show in Manila. It was fun and indulgent even, but something happened as I was painting these.. I was listening to Jack KIRBY interviews on YouTube and after I listened to all of those I was referred to Alan Moore interviews and grant Morrison interviews. The Jack KIRBY interviews fascinated me because I love Jack Kirby and what he has done is sort of mentor me from beyond the grave by providing the most incredible example of blue collar work ethic not to mention how weird and impressive and beautiful his imaginings always are. He’s not called the king for nothing.

Well the Alan Moore and Grant Morrison interviews really set my mind off into a kind of interest in the psycho mental and spiritual involvement that creativity can invoke. A sort of journey beyond the normal dimensions of story concepts and art as an imaginative astronaut willing to take on a mental freedom no matter how bizarre it could be. A few Alan Moore interviews really got me thinking about how important socially active and antagonistic art is. That it is at its best when it is for the people, not the status quo standard of self-congratulating upper art echelons not available to the average joe. It renewed my sense of this, although my modus operandi is to put my art in the hands of anyone if I can.

I then was in a mutational stage of silver age comic book social antagonism, which is ridiculous enough but then I started on the Robert Anton Wilson and Terrence Mckenna interviews. Which completed my journey by bolstering my love of the absurd and the freedom it brings by overthrowing any current form of social niceties and standards as well as kind of opening my mind to the spiritual shift that human beings are capable of spiritual awakening through drugs and consciousness. So of course whatever paintings I was working on by the time I was listening to Terrence McKenna, were completely taking an aggravated stance towards mentally inhibiting institutions, the church, military industrial complexes, etc.

Of course I had to buy a couple of ounces of mushrooms so I could take them when I get back from my trip over seas. Summer is good for hiking and spirit morphing! Haha!! So as I was painting this batch of weird paintings, I realized that a lot of what I was commenting on in these paintings were very Americanized themes and concepts, some emotional and some political. I then thought of how the show was in the Philippines, which is a country that I hear loves aspects of our western culture. I thought of Fredric Wertham who wrote a book called " Seduction of the innocent" in 1954, which all but destroyed the comic book industry in the late 50's. It put EC comics out of business, and the book claimed that comic books were influencing children with horrific themes and violence to be terrible, twisted future criminals. It struck me that what really turns us into twisted versions of what could actually be, a peaceful beautiful organic occurrence on earth, are our warlike behaviors, our social conditioning and standards, our subjugation and mental enslavement via stupid religions of ourselves and others. (There’s a lot more to touch on but let's stick with only a few for now) Comic books don't make for a shitty world. People doing the same dumb shit for generations and continuing the stupidity and lazy minded selfishness because we are addicted to things that work for us as an individual but put others back. We can't evolve if only a couple of people can afford it.

So I named the show "Seduction of The Innocent", an art show of my wacky and critical commentary on some of our collective struggles as well as social/political institutions that I think will never get enough spankings, and laying it out in my favorite art form style, comic books. It has been an incredibly fun exercise into trying new things and pushing myself to do things I never had the discipline to mess with. (I’m looking at you, insane old timey comic fonts) the show starts on March 25th. A few days after my opening in Japan at Mishka Tokyo, which is where we are showing my new window display/installation for them on March 20th. If anybody can come out and see me I’d love to see your face!

Thank you for reading my long pontificating description on how I arrived in a place of total confusion. -Skinner

Tropes of Expectations by Manuel Ocampo, Javier Arce, Juan Carlos Quintana, Carlo Ricafort, Timo Roter

When Private Ricafort, Private Quintana, Private Arce, Private Ocampo and Private Roter met the first time in 1965 it was the hottest December day in the history of Vietnam. Not knowing that there was no right and wrong they were still fighting with General Nguyen, whose nickname for them was Sgt. Sio-Mai, against the intruders.

The 5 were the only guys digging tunnels that time in Cú Chi, listening to b-52's (the band!) when they accidently hit a wormhole with their shovel which threw them into an alternate universe.

General Nguyen was a wealthy man so he cloned the 5 and sent them back home to their places.

Through the telepathic knowledge the 5 got when they entered the alternate universe they are now able to operate and direct their clones and let them paint what they see in their Galaxy.

After 50 years the original 5 met the first time, they are sending now their clones to Manila to have their first groupshow at Vinyl on Vinyl.

False Assault by Patch Quinto

Usually after spending academic years, whether you've failed it or not, questions raised about life and how to live it, transforming learning to mainly just earning, bringing yourselves toward the promise of what has been subliminally dictated to you as "the good life".

You wake up, you check your clock. As a weird sedating consciousness latches onto your head, with its central incisors making its way to your cranium as it tears your thin scalp. Your jaws lock, eyes  twitch as a rapid sequence of images is about to enter your automated condition in the mundane fills your brain. Struggling with routines, tangled between the weaves of work assigned to you as a peons in the service to whatever company you are tied to, striving for each quota-per day required, flowing in a unison as a member of the labor force. You drown in your right thoughts and clouded judgement as you try to live up to this striking consciousness that crossed your mind and you find it impossible to mobilize because of the uncertainty of where this consciousness would lead you.

It's Patcho's second solo exhibition, the expansion of consciousness appears to be malignant in offering us severed details in relation to what he encounters as an active participants of the labor force. Unsettled though limitations and confinements defined his job as a graphic designer for websites a continuous progression on his art practice results to a non-secular type of production that includes basic elements composed of repetitive lines, shapes and outburst of colors illuminates multi-layers of amalgamated images creating a monotony of satirically animate/inanimate subjects. The inclusion of popular visual tropes draws his viewer towards analyzing Patch's critique about the effect of popular media in a larger spectrum. Anatomically grotesque representation of dissected human flesh raises discussions and coherent inquiries of the basis of questioning human perception and behavior. Moreover, his familiarity of using lines as a continuous transgression from each subject to another consistently projects the whole series of works.

Importantly, lest we forget the artist exhibition of his recent works must be examined in acquiring his own solutions on his capabilities in transforming significant observations and progresses based on his daily routines rooted in his art-making. It's not product itself produced as a graphic designer or as an artist but how he manages and still enjoy to co-exist between to similar dichotomies.

Art Unfair At The Leenk by Romeo Lee