Robin Rhode's Living in Public (review)

^ ^ ^ ^ uth African National Gallery - t hrough Oct. 7,20000 Robin Rhode's press release for Living in Public ( oh, ah, yes, ah, t hat 's avail abl e t oo! ), reads like a rap t rack w i t hout t he obsceni t ies. And he's sl ight l y bet t er read in t he subt l et ies of art crit icism. Rhode has become somet hi ng of a minor cult i con wit h his perf ormance dr awings and penchant f or Bl ack Label beer, al ways br i ngi ng his own (quart s) t o openi ngs. The show has a gl oss of pl ayf ul ness t hat shoul d not be mist aken f or a lack of ser i ousness . Wit h an openi ng t hat f eat ured Ready D on t he decks, a posse of f riends as Rhode's support ing cast , a bat h f ul l of Black Labels, and a f ully st ocked and f unct i onal ci gar et t e vendi ng machine inst al l ed in t he gallery f or t he durat ion of t he exhi bi t i on, t he show provides poi nt s of access t hat are one hundred percent i nvest ed in t he real worl d. The real worl d, according t o Rhode, incl udes his com m uni t ies, t he media, t he pursuit of pleasure, and soci al cr i t i ci sm —i n short , l iving in public. His com muni t i es compr i se his f amily, bot h bi ol ogi cal and social , in Bosmont , and t he art wor l d, whi ch Rhode t reat s much like a bad j oke. He engages wit h it as a series of cunni ngl y veil ed one l i ner s—and t he j oke's al ways on Ar t -w i t h-a-capi t al -A. Havi ng said t hat , Rhode i s t ot al l y commi t t ed i n t he pur sui t of a w or ki ng pr ocess and met hod t hat engages wit h bot h personal , i nt i mat e experience, and broaderbased concerns. What emerges, whet her it be a drawn library shel f t o w hi ch ar t i st s must donat e act ual books, or Rhode perf orming deat h-def yi ng st unt s on a bicycle mapped out in chalk on a car park, i s an exhi bi t i on t hat has as much relevance t o his soci al f amil ies as it does t o his art com m uni t i es—and beyond. Ascendi ng t he st aircase t o t he main gallery, t he f irst t hi ng one encount ered was an advert isement f or Absol ut Vodka (who di dn't sponsor t he show ) , t he bot t le chai ned up and subt it l ed Absolut Securit y. Turning right , a line of shoes nailed t o t he wall and f l oor read like loit erers on a st reet corner, in an alley way, or perhaps j ust t he regular crowd of f reeloaders at a gallery openi ng. Appr oachi ng t he crowd, a domest ic securit y l ight above was t r i gger ed, t hr ow i ng onesel f unw i t t i ngl y under scr ut i ny. Looki ng up, a line of broken bot t le necks st ood side by side al ong a hi gh shel f t hat spanned t he ent ire right wall of t he space. Secur i t y, w eapon, p i p e —t h e ubi qui t ous bot t l eneck si gni f i es all of t hese...