Description
In "Milk & Cookies: This Present," Matt Kane intricately weaves the tapestry of today's milieu where echoes of yesteryears harmoniously merge with contemporary beats. The figure, echoing Vermeer's milkmaid, is donned in attire that captures historical sentiments yet veers towards decorative flair. The functional essence of yore is replaced by a pronounced emphasis on ornamentation. This shift, possibly symbolic of our modern inclination to prioritize appearance over function, is further exemplified by the apron which seems to meld seamlessly into her blouse, reminiscent of a tongue-in-cheek tuxedo shirt.
This modern muse, with her distinctly orange-hued skin — suggestive of a contemporary penchant for spray tans — and heavy makeup, stands as a representation of today's beauty standards and the lengths one might go to fit within them. Yet, her attention is not on her immediate environment, nor on herself. Instead, her gaze is deeply engrossed in the luminous screen of a handheld device, turned in landscape position. Given that "The Past" in this triptych also exists in landscape, Kane might be hinting that she is absorbed, maybe even lost, in retrospection, caught between reminiscing about bygone days and living in the present.
Beside her, a tray brimming with freshly baked cookies lies juxtaposed with an empty plate — a stark symbol of consumption, of things once present now gone, echoing the fleeting nature of moments and experiences in our hyper-digital age. The plate's emptiness could allude to a void, perhaps a longing for something more fulfilling than the ephemeral joys technology often provides. Candy and cookies do not make for longterm sustenance or growth.
Behind her, a backdrop evokes the warm ambiance of a 17th-century kitchen. Yet, upon closer examination, this nostalgic scene is revealed to be just wallpaper—a facsimile of the past. Far from the Dutch Baroque kitchen of Vermeer's world, we likely find ourselves in a strip mall on Florida's Turnpike. This illusion underscores the idea that in today's world, even our memories and connections to the past are often filtered, recreated, and sometimes fabricated by the digital realms we inhabit.
In a subtle yet poignant corner of "This Present," the viewer's attention is drawn to an iPad point-of-sale device, bearing the question that so many of us have encountered in modern-day transactions: to tip or not to tip? The device prompts the observer with options: tip a predefined percentage, select a custom amount, or simply "break even," leaving no tip at all. Yet, intriguingly, the price displayed on the screen is "FREE."
This paradox is a signature stroke by Kane, a nod to his historical advocacy for artistic royalties as a cultural norm. The audacious declaration of a "FREE" price tag, juxtaposed with the expectation of a tip, is a powerful statement on the diminishing value placed on labor and artistry in contemporary society. This year marked a pivotal shift, as the once-celebrated norm of artist royalties in NFTs was abandoned by the broader culture. Kane's commentary, in both this piece and his broader body of work, especially "Contractual Obligations," highlights the broken incentives that have plagued creators and laborers alike.
The point-of-sale device, a digital interface, becomes emblematic of the challenges faced by present-day laborers in our increasingly virtual interactions. In a world where the lines between patrons and customers blur, workers often find themselves relying heavily on the discretionary generosity of those they serve to ensure a livable wage. Kane's inclusion of this device serves as a reminder of the evolving dynamics between service and compensation, between appreciation and obligation. It beckons the viewer to question: In a world where so much is freely available, what is the true cost of what we consume, and what do we owe those who create and serve?
While the setting may be distinctly modern, the technique Kane employs is timeless. Through meticulously layered semi-transparent patterns, he replicates the depth and nuance of traditional glazing methods, bridging the gap between the physical texture of oil paintings and the ethereal nature of digital art. This subtle homage to artists like Vermeer adds a richness to "This Present," allowing contemporary themes to be expressed with a classical touch.
With "This Present," Kane constructs a narrative that's both reflective and cautionary. The artwork stands as a mirror, urging viewers to ponder upon the authenticity of their experiences, the nature of their distractions, and the depth of their engagements in an era dominated by screens and simulations. Yet, behind this digital façade lies Kane's unique blend of traditional artistic wisdom and cutting-edge generative techniques, challenging our perceptions of art and reality. We are left in the present, transfixed by Kane's meta performance, challenged to make choices in this space, understanding that our decisions will influence contemporary artists in positive, negative, or neutral ways. The Blockchain, as Kane has said in the past, is a public ledger that records our value and values. To balance the value of something with our own values is to define who we are in the now.
— CuratorialGPT