From our friends at Glasstire, today we bring you Christina Rees’ review of Loris Gréaud’s current solo exhibition at Dallas Contemporary. Rees describes the choreographed destruction of the work and characterizes the show as “a partial and contrived ruin,” noting that neither the artist nor the visitors seem invested. This article was originally published on January 19, 2015.
I suppose in the event of a chemical attack or nuclear apocalypse, a crowd of Dallas Contemporary patrons would be as good company as any to be stuck with. They are certainly relaxed, orderly, and polite.
I found this out on Saturday night at the Contemporary. Halfway through the opening for the long-anticipated Loris Gréaud show, a group of actors disguised as party-goers walked into the building and began pulling works off the walls and flinging them to the ground, and kicking over plaster sculptures. Another group of actors disguised as security guards immediately began to wrangle the half-bemused, half-blithe crowd toward the exits. Lights flashed, a few sirens sounded. People kind of good-naturedly lumbered out.
On the way, a few dozen hands shot up holding cell phones set to “photo” or “video,” but not as many as I would have expected under the circumstances. No one tried to get around security to join in the destruction, just as no one tried to intervene. Though few people in attendance knew what was meant to go down, you’d think that everyone there had all seen it before, like a rerun of a classic episode of Seinfeld or something.