PhilipMueller

Carbon 12
PHILIP MUELLER – “DREAMS IN BLUE.
THE YEAR PHILIP MUELLER DIDN’T WAKE UP”
Monday, 18. January 2016 | 6 pm
19. January — 6. March 2016
Unit D37, Alserkal Avenue, Street 8,
Al Quoz 1 P.O.Box 214437, Dubai, UAE
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“Cafe Zartl BFSB” Oil on canvas
200 x 230 cm 2015
Carbon 12 is proud to announce their 50th exhibition, “Dreams in Blue. The year Philip Mueller didn’t wake up”, with the new works of Philip Mueller.
A confrontation with the enormity of a gestural Mueller work is an introduction to what it means to be painterly. Every stroke and drip of paint layered upon itself adds an inescapable sense of space into the two-dimensional format, which for this exhibition, has moved towards evenly cut and stretched canvases. While the clean presentation does not appear to immediately mirror the figures that fill the compositions – individuals of the Black Flamingos, an imaginary gang with hedonistic appearances that belie their desire and belief of their own sophistication. Riding horses, a timeless method of transport, idolizing themselves in portraiture on surfboards (because one is not a real Black Flamingo until they have acquired portraiture status)…so assured in their refinement that they insist upon wearing masks to hide themselves from envious glares. This is the first taste of something amiss.
PM
“Espressorosini BFSB” Oil on canvas 160 x 200 cm 2015
A confrontation with the enormity of a gestural Mueller work is an introduction to what it means to be painterly. Every stroke and drip of paint layered upon itself adds an inescapable sense of space into the two-dimensional format, which for this exhibition, has moved towards evenly cut and stretched canvases. While the clean presentation does not appear to immediately mirror the figures that fill the compositions – individuals of the Black Flamingos, an imaginary gang with hedonistic appearances that belie their desire and belief of their own sophistication. Riding horses, a timeless method of transport, idolizing themselves in portraiture on surfboards (because one is not a real Black Flamingo until they have acquired portraiture status)…so assured in their refinement that they insist upon wearing masks to hide themselves from envious glares. This is the first taste of something amiss.
The Black Flamingos are outlaws free of convention, spending their time in the Alpine countryside (hence the use of surfboards as canvases, the ultimate symbol of freedom). Yet their desire to be rogue is undone by their self-imposed structuring: the uniformly worn masks, their insistence on riding horses or a hatred of the inherent arrogance of swans so strong that they can only overcome it by eating them, although, only swans below four months old, lest the taste become too “ugly”. Something is indeed amiss; observe how their ‘well-trained’ horses unseat their riders, aware of the farce. This domestication is neither real nor permanent, it is a facade, and the horse, the symbol of heroic regality, uncouthly dumps these false idols on the ground. A return to nature. A return to their true behaviour. A return to the face beneath the mask.

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