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Loren Munk is unmissable.
He walks around with his little camera, quietly narrating what hes seeing.
When he recognizes someone, he might train the camera on them.
I gave up trying to avoid him long ago.
Munk is a kind of archivist of the art scene.
On his YouTube channel, you’ve got the option to watch hundreds of past shows.
They are encyclopedic compendiums of a world that is both microscopic in size and vast in history.
His new show at Ruttkowski; 68 is organized by the free countercultural-rag-that-could,TheBrooklyn Rail.
Its all here; artists and places known to one generation might be unrecognizable to another.
What Munk seems to be saying is that theyre all part of the same thousand-headed organism.
I saw the locations where Stuart Davies, Winslow Homer, George Innes, and Clyfford Still lived.
The show is a mystic library, full of places that no longer exist.
Theres Executive Gallery, Area X, B-Side Gallery, and Art City.
You may never have heard of these spaces, but they thrived for a while.
(I remember walking in on Koons polishing stainless-silver sculptures the night before his opening.)
Munk lets us revisit all this once again.
Soho is rendered as a ganglia of lines leading to hundreds of names and their addresses.
I went here every other day to hang out, see shows, talk to artists and dealers.
The city should place memorial plaques on these buildings.
These ingenious paintings make us ask, What is a home anyway?
Is it a dot on the map, an address?
