January 30, 2025
John Miller
Total Presence
Various Small Fires
January 4 - February 8, 2025
John Miller
John Miller is a conceptual artist as well as a writer and theorist. He is best known for works painted in what has become his signature color: burnt sienna. There are numerous scatological references associated with his use of this color which has appeared in his works since the 1980s and has manifested itself in numerous ways.
While the pieces in the exhibition Total Presence are photographic, they are augmented by impastoed swaths of hand painted burnt sienna. The somewhat banal color photographs depict fragments of the urban landscape — places where concrete, brick walls, graffiti and signs come together. Miller creates trompe l'oeil illusions by painting shapes in random places on the photographs (inkjet prints on canvas) to cover what is below with precise rectangles in expressive shades of brown. These additions rise off the surfaces and often have drop shadows added through Photoshop to create a sense of depth. Miller's painted additions are purposely awkward, interrupting the integrity of the image below. They do not belong and do not necessarily cover anything "important," nor do they conform to the architecture in some cases. The tondo shaped painting Painted Grapes (2024) is a cropped collage of various urban wall fragments that juxtapose interior and exterior markings with a section of painted brown.
Three different series comprise Miller's exhibition. The trompe l'oeil paintings in one room are seen in relation to a 2020 video The Trip in another. Here, a 3D modeled male mannequin with tousled brown hair and a gray suit seen from just above the shoulders rotates slowly against a monochrome background that transitions from red to yellow to blue to green as the camera moves in closer to his face. Among ethereal electronic sounds, a male voice utters, "I'm spinning, I'm spinning around again" for the entire thirteen minute duration. At the very end, the sound and spinning of the figure reduces to slow motion, the face fills the frame against a blue-purple background. The screen then goes black and a text appears that states: "I'm spinning around my friend" leaving viewers somewhat perplexed by this subtle change.
The third work in the exhibition is a room-sized photographic mural, An Illusion of an Illusion (2024) that spans two walls and a corner of a square room. It combines images taken in New York and Seoul, juxtaposing fragments from two distant cities. Miller documents aspects of everyday life — receding streets with delivery trucks, doors and door handles, stickers, posters and official signage. The montage moves from close up to distance shots creating the illusion of a panorama. While life-like and to scale, the composited scenes are strangely uninhabited. The white letters of a blue window sign on a New York street proclaiming "We've moved" prompts questions about location, dislocation, gentrification and the constant movement of urban life.
Thinking about the spinning mannequin translocated from the confines of his shifting monochrome background to an urban setting, be it New York or Seoul, it is possible to imagine him (or one) ambling down city streets, regarding textured walls and marveling at strangely painted surfaces that resemble the texture and style of his hair.
Total Presence
Various Small Fires
January 4 - February 8, 2025
John Miller
John Miller is a conceptual artist as well as a writer and theorist. He is best known for works painted in what has become his signature color: burnt sienna. There are numerous scatological references associated with his use of this color which has appeared in his works since the 1980s and has manifested itself in numerous ways.
While the pieces in the exhibition Total Presence are photographic, they are augmented by impastoed swaths of hand painted burnt sienna. The somewhat banal color photographs depict fragments of the urban landscape — places where concrete, brick walls, graffiti and signs come together. Miller creates trompe l'oeil illusions by painting shapes in random places on the photographs (inkjet prints on canvas) to cover what is below with precise rectangles in expressive shades of brown. These additions rise off the surfaces and often have drop shadows added through Photoshop to create a sense of depth. Miller's painted additions are purposely awkward, interrupting the integrity of the image below. They do not belong and do not necessarily cover anything "important," nor do they conform to the architecture in some cases. The tondo shaped painting Painted Grapes (2024) is a cropped collage of various urban wall fragments that juxtapose interior and exterior markings with a section of painted brown.
Three different series comprise Miller's exhibition. The trompe l'oeil paintings in one room are seen in relation to a 2020 video The Trip in another. Here, a 3D modeled male mannequin with tousled brown hair and a gray suit seen from just above the shoulders rotates slowly against a monochrome background that transitions from red to yellow to blue to green as the camera moves in closer to his face. Among ethereal electronic sounds, a male voice utters, "I'm spinning, I'm spinning around again" for the entire thirteen minute duration. At the very end, the sound and spinning of the figure reduces to slow motion, the face fills the frame against a blue-purple background. The screen then goes black and a text appears that states: "I'm spinning around my friend" leaving viewers somewhat perplexed by this subtle change.
The third work in the exhibition is a room-sized photographic mural, An Illusion of an Illusion (2024) that spans two walls and a corner of a square room. It combines images taken in New York and Seoul, juxtaposing fragments from two distant cities. Miller documents aspects of everyday life — receding streets with delivery trucks, doors and door handles, stickers, posters and official signage. The montage moves from close up to distance shots creating the illusion of a panorama. While life-like and to scale, the composited scenes are strangely uninhabited. The white letters of a blue window sign on a New York street proclaiming "We've moved" prompts questions about location, dislocation, gentrification and the constant movement of urban life.
Thinking about the spinning mannequin translocated from the confines of his shifting monochrome background to an urban setting, be it New York or Seoul, it is possible to imagine him (or one) ambling down city streets, regarding textured walls and marveling at strangely painted surfaces that resemble the texture and style of his hair.