Walker Evans, image via<\/a><\/p>\n Panoptos is an interactive installation with 150 works taken from the Henry’s collections that cover the walls, not salon style as much as storage. The lighting is bad, and there is no information about any of the artists, including even their names. Making matters worse is a long vertical apparatus with an LED light that travels in front of everything on view, offering a final and fatal distraction. <\/p>\n Looking gets the audience nowhere. To see what’s allegedly there, they have to leave the gallery and proceed down the hall, where they can operate a joy stick to focus on individual works, again, with no information. <\/p>\n Museums are where we go to see originals. If we want to see reproductions, we can stay at home. The 150 artworks are thus negated to the apparent pleasure of the curator, who is charged with their care. <\/p>\n I can’t think of a more disrespectful show since Marcel Duchamp’s Mile of String<\/i><\/a> in 1942. Asked to participate in a Surrealism retrospective, he draped everyone else’s work in string. Duchamp, of course, intended the insult. Do SuttonBeresCuller? Does it matter? Reverse what they say their intentions are and we’ve got a winner. Either way, I’m on the side of the 150 artworks. From Duchamp to the Seattle trio, subverting the art of others leaves a sour taste. <\/p>\n![\"HarryShearerSeanHannity.jpg\"](\"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/anotherbb\/HarryShearerSeanHannity.jpg\")
Surrounded by dead air, they slump and grow slack. I’d love to see Shearer’s video series paired with Walker Evans<\/a>‘ subway photos from the late 1930s and early 1940s. Concealing his camera, he took pictures of people who hadn’t bothered to arrange themselves for presentation, even to themselves. <\/p>\n![\"walkerevanssubway.jpg\"](\"http:\/\/www.artsjournal.com\/anotherbb\/walkerevanssubway.jpg\")
Another kind of dead air inhabits SuttonBeresCuller<\/a>‘s project with the title, Panoptos<\/i><\/a>, taken from panoptic, which means a single, clarifying view. I’d like to think that the horror here is conscious. Alas, listening to the artists hold forth and reading curator Krajewski’s brochure, I fear a sunny-side-up intent. <\/p>\n