Of course it’s horrible. Why wouldn’t it be? Yet in comparison to Dan Colen’s NY Gagosian debut, Pruitt managed to actually keep the superficial perversity of Pop alive, or more accurately, exhume its corpse and prop it upright for at least month. Alongside the second, blah-ier version of his Art Awards, his exhibition at Gavin Brown presented art objects whose thought and consideration rivaled that of Miley Cyrus’ tweets. Shaped by the 21st-century spaces of American domesticity—that abundant nexus between cyberspace and the flea market—Pruitt’s gee-whiz artworks offered American decadence yet another material form tailored for the dignified hoarders of the collecting elite. And the biggest question lingers, is Pruitt’s affirmative Pop still art? Or has such a historico-cultural distinction been subsumed into the frenzied spirit of popular culture? Does his latest work artistically re-present the images and experiences of America’s hegemonic entertainment industry or is it simply another embodiment of one of its many totalizing facets? “To understand it is to understand why the terrorists hate us,” was film critic’s Armond White conclusive remark on Jackass 3D; that the same can be said of Pruitt’s 2010 contribution to American culture remains unclear, and perhaps disconcertingly so. However, there is no doubt that the title of White's review, "The Bland and the Bonkers," can fittingly describe Pruitt's celebutante playthings.
score: one large vegan BräschtWörst