Among the most confounding things about the work of Marcel Van Eeden is the odd compulsion to own a dozen or so. Tall order for most of us, given the $2600-plus price tag, but the compulsion is a pretty compelling natural extension of the work itself: Van Eeden's project is tied to producing a new work every single day. 365 days a year. Do the math. Or don't bother: That's $949,000 a year -- in accounts receivable, anyway.
As an art project, it's absolute commercial genius. Granted, given the pace, some are better than others. And it's safe to assume not ALL of them sell (though at his opening at the Clint Roenisch Gallery on Friday night, no less than 20 were already spoken for). Thankfully, Van Eeden's genius is far from merely commercial. Put the pace aside a moment and consider the work: Dark, repressed humour pervades. Oblique glances, stolen moments unfurl confounding mystery narratives without resolution.
Through it all, the tonal element is grippingly consistent, thanks almost entirely to Van Eeden's central
gift, which is the rendering of light. From afar, the pieces have an almost photographic precision; a few steps closer and the roughness emerges, confounding your intuitive expectation that they'll sharpen as you approach. I don't know how long Van Eeden can keep up the pace (or how long his growing legion of collectors would want him to) but for the moment, at least, his daily adventures on paper are worth savouring.
Thanks for writing this.
Posted by: Dianthe | April 26, 2009 at 11:41 PM