Andrés Serrano

Andres Serrano is possibly the most misunderstood artist of his generation.
Serrano may be travelling over pre-discovered terrain (Koons, Goldin, maybe even Pierre et Gilles), his deliberate construction of a frequented vocabulary modifies what we expect from such subjects presented statue-like in deep silky hues. There is no evidence either of titillation or kitsch in the presentation of Serrano’s subjects and their acts. And the artist watches without judging, de-romanticising life while simultaneously incorporating the beauty of luxurious fabrics, 19th century wall murals, and the gleam of decorative tile. And while ‘life’, as pictured in this semi-sumptuous work, may seem mostly anaesthetised from pain and pleasure.
Is this Serrano’s dispassionate, resigned view of life - the flipside to his elegant pictorial note-taking on the mysterious beauty of death?

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