V. Arkhipov is thin and stubborn and unpublished. He has always been confused by man’s tendency to dress his leaders up like gods. Halos frighten him as do talk of rugged individualism, spectator sports, and atomic bombs saving lives. He can’t help but wonder about men who claim to speak for the masses. He is completely willing to admit that this confusion and fear may stem from his lack of education and moral fiber. Most of his conversations end with sighs and shrugs.
Some have said that V. Arkhipov just doesn’t get it. He does not deny this charge. He shrugs.
As a man so far removed from reality and good taste, V. Arkhipov has been called many things:
He has been called a Bolshevik.
He has been called a plagiarist.
He has been called a pornographer.
He has been called a spy.
He has been called an opportunist.
He has been called a threat to religious liberty.
He has been called a pervert.
He has been called a Tory.
He has been called a utopian.
He has been called a ‘policy wonk’.
He has been called the privileged elite.
He has been called a queer.
He has been called an anarchist.
He has been called ‘a person of interest’.
He has never been compared to a bald eagle or a mountain or a battle ship or a shepherd or a lantern or a working-class boxer who defies the odds.
When asked what it means to be an American in 2017, V. Arkhipov responded: “To blindly subscribe to the notions that all dogs go to heaven and that poor people just need to work harder”.
Opening Reception Saturday, June 3rd 2017 from 8pm-12am. On view through July 3rd by appointment.