Gallery Visit: Nick Mauss at the 303 Gallery

I chose this gallery exhibit because I liked it the least of everything I'd been to that day (including a crowded and stinky McDonalds). It's more interesting for me to explain why I dislike something than it is to explain why I like something, so here goes.

Let me quickly describe the gallery. A cage hung suspended from the ceiling. Nearby, a tall and wide canvas stood, a simple geometric shape painted on it in black and white, with a large, physical rip going half-way through it.

Surrounding these two floor pieces were seven paintings hanging on the wall. These were paintings on wood, totally gray, but the paint was put on thick, making the paintings resemble slate.

The only thing I learned in my Contemporary Art courses is that sometimes I'll miss the "depth" of a piece of art until it's explained to me. So I thought about that as I tried to read these paintings that look like pieces of my sidewalk. After a wasted series of thoughts went by, all I could think was "So what?" There's a cage that elicits zero emotion, a half-ripped painting that I'd like to rip completely, and a handful of paintings that remind me of a walkway I trip over every morning. There's nothing to read into or thought about.

Maybe Nick Mauss made this for his own emotional fulfillment. I can see him congratulating himself while gallery visitors try to make themselves sound smart by intellectualizing this shallow work. Enough buzzwords and he may even start to believe it. I disliked this gallery though, and I can't imagine myself being convinced that this is anything other than a pretentious display.