I was in Brooklyn last weekend and checked out the Ron Mueck exhibit with my brother. Mueck is not an artist that you ever want to drop acid and look at. I was freaking out in a sober state and I can’t stop thinking about it.
His pieces are realer than real. Every little detail is perfect. and not perfect like a porcelain doll, but perfect in the way that humans are. The scars, the wrinkles, the visibility of veins underneath skin, toenails, arm hair, pubic hair, elbows—everything was human-looking and scary as hell.
There was a 20-foot-long freshly born baby (with umbilical cord) that looked like she was about to roll over and start crying. A tiny couple spooning in bed - their flesh sagging in just the right way. I wouldn’t have been surprised if any of the pieces got up from where they were and started walking around.
I think the issue I have is how far these sculptures played with my perception of reality. In the room next to the sculptures was an Annie Liebowitz exhibit. Now her photographs are beautiful because of the detail and the depth of the prints - how much essence of the subject is captured in two-dimensions. Because it’s 2-D, I’m pretty confident of the line between subject and viewer - I know where I stand in relation to the people she has photographed. I can stand 2 inches away from them and I know they aren’t going to reach out and grab me. Mueck’s work has just as much depth and passion as Liebowitz’s but it’s in 3-D, the lines are blurred, and I’m not so sure if his subjects are friendly. creepy
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