A few weeks ago, right after the election, I asked readers to respond to the current mishegoss in our nation’s government (“mishegoss” is a fairly common Yiddish word meaning craziness or senseless behavior). So the competition became known as the “Mishegoss Contest” among some who entered. My choices for first, second, and third place, as befits the temper of the times, are simply based on personal preference and in no way reflect the talents or ingenuity of the artists (I know we’re stretching criteria a bit by including works from the first Trump fiasco). The grand-prize winner gets a choice of three books; second-place can pick between what remains; the third gets what’s left over. (If I have somehow carelessly missed anyone because of poor record keeping and an inability to make folders on Gmail, please forgive me and send your entry posthaste to me at ajlandi33@gmail.com.)
But the good news is everyone gets a book because I have so many brand-new review titles to give away. So send me an address (I’ll remind you via email) and I will mail everything out after the holidays because I hate standing in line at the post office.
Wherever possible, I added what description the artists chose to supply, though in many cases I think the works don’t need much explication.
Drumroll please….
First place goes to Tom DiCillo for Devotion (2024), a digital photo (I assume manipulated, but maybe not that much), 8 by 11.
In second place is Cheryl Gross, a long-time member of Vasari21, who writes: “I created this piece back in 2018 as part of a three- book large-scale graphic novel, The Karpland Chronicles. This is the cover of book three, Lullaby of Karpland. The title is Sometimes the first step to forgiveness is understanding the other person is an idiot.
In third place is Pacha Wasiolek’s The Businessman (2023), encaustic on panel, 24 by 18 inches. “This isn’t a portrait of an actual person, just a take-off from images in the newspaper, but of course the businessman became very Trump-ish after the election,” she writes.
And the runners-up, in no particular order:
Sandra Filippucci’s Armor Up (2024) is an as-yet-unpublished digital print in which she envisions the heroine of her years-long exploration of the theme of Joan of Arc. Here the Maid of Orleans is an older and presumably battle-weary veteran of wars against tyranny.
Christopher Rico writes: “After over two decades as a non-objective abstract painter, I introduced figurative elements into my work this year. It was absolutely a response to the cultural/political moment, perhaps even a bit of a foreshadowing, if I'm honest, as most were painted in the spring and summer.
“All empires fall,” he adds. “I see the horse as a symbol, as a metaphor for power and State. Within the peril and anxiety of the image I believe there is also hope, vulnerability, and maybe even transcendence. I can't help but feel that hope is the great thing that makes humans unique; both to our credit and sometimes our demise.”
In this Land (Death Don't Have No Mercy), 2024, acrylic on canvas, 54 by 48 inches.
Greta Young, another early supporter of the original Vasari21, says her piece Political Gold was inspired by a New York Times headline and shows “the nutsiness of our times.” The medium is oil stick, gesso, and gold glitter on paper, 47 by 32 inches.
Timothy Nero’s aggressively abstract (except for the crown and flag) P-25 is made from wood, steel filings, acrylic medium, fabric, found object, metal leaf, 12” w x 9”d x 8.5” h
Resa Blatman’s installation, called Pretty Sad was made in 2017 and “uses a few of Trump's own words, along with several of mine, to create a snapshot of the man who became our 45th president and now our 47th.” The work is made from hand-painted machine-cut paper and fake flowers and reads: "very, very sad misogynist, racist, narcissist, lying cheeto."
Laurinda Stockwell’s Smoke is acrylic and oil on canvas, 24 by 20 inches. ”I'm worried about everything but especially the escalating problems of climate change under the orange monster,” she writes.
With the health-care system much on everyone’s mind these days, Brian Allan Skinner’s Exanimation Room (that’s not a misspelling) shows some scary characters whose operations are probably not in your best interest.
Below, the books to choose (you can Google these or check them out on Amazon for more about the contenst). So, please, Tom, let me know your pick (and your address) asap.
That’s it for now. I am hoping to get out a post next week, but it’s the Sunday of the closing party for the Wright Contemporary, and I may be up to my elbows in cocktail meatballs!
Great work. Great idea. Glad to be entering this space. Grateful to see work that gives vision to the panic I feel. Thank you.
Amazing - and glad you sound so much perkier/feistier than before. Thanks indeed for displaying this work.