s·sault life (ˌkärpā ˈdēˌem): or a template for grief in the 21st century
I felt sad today, earlier when I cashed that bowl in my truck. I thought about my ex and that Swede she’s dating now. I could crush him. I thought about my grandparents and how I never knew them and how sad that is when you really start to think about it. I thought about the Matrix and how Neo tries to jump the span of those buildings and falls short. When he hits the ground he is absorbed by it, as if the concrete and pavement were suddenly a trampoline. I thought, what if Paul Walker was in the Matrix? What if, instead of obeying the logic of the Fast and the Furious films, or even the laws of the natural world we briefly shared with Paul, that he had been subject to the rules of The Matrix? What if when he had gotten in his fatal crash that the physical properties of the tree and of the road could have changed? I saw a commercial like that, about safe driving or some shit like car insurance. In this commercial, a man was driving his sedan through the streets, but instead of concrete civil engineering, all the pillars and dividers were made of pillows. Everything was soft and no one could get hurt, no matter how fast they were going.
In this exhibition, Benny Thompson has created a dream environment laden with props from personal and adopted (sic) tragedy. Thompson connects the seemingly profane gestures of the recreational smoking of marijuana and other rites of inebriation as authentic rueful attempts to achieve spiritual harmony with the departed. Anton Yelchin, the recently deceased actor, is the focus. Yelchin occupies a rare and personal space to the artist. When purposely foregoing humility and imagining a film made about himself, Thompson believes his role to be played by the late Anton, the twenty something male somewhat the rogue.
Work by: Benny Thompson