A three-person exhibition featuring the works of Pete Jimenez, Jason Moss, and Jose Tence Ruiz.
Nutrition by Attrition
One of the defining attributes of Osmosis is that it works because of water. It works as a quiet flux. Imagine now, as if there were ever any epoch spared of it, an epoch where Chismis, rumor, falsehood, fake news flowed like water. All epochs have had their share, but ours has hit a set of new highs in the channels of Lyotard’s fabled mediasphere. We are awash, floating, in an unending flux, streams, torrents of data, a big part of which may be false. We, in this captive flotation, may not escape absorbing this, a “Chismosis,” as it were, and thus find our sense of certainty, our sense of assurance, our sense of knowing some things are indubitably true diluted, waterlogged, wrinkled like the fingers of an overstaying swimmer.
If knowledge is a source of growth, of psychic nutrition, then our intake is spiked by attrition, by the possibility of deceit, by the toxicity of tort, by just being painfully misled. 2020 in this developing nation we all cherish, is, aside from everything, a flood of this toxin of untruth. Who is to tell which is true or not? Honestly, that’s a complicated question. Without necessarily answering it to everyone’s satisfaction, we deal, we cope, survive, we hope to live to fight another day. The works that Pete Jimenez, Jason Moss and Jose Tence Ruiz offer for this show, “Chismosis,” are like children sucking as much oxygen as they can in a fog of nitrous oxide. They suck it in, hold their breath as long as they can and plod on. Jimenez concocts material metonyms from debris to suggest lawlagging legislatures, daring transport cyclists, and social media cliches. Moss applies a trenchant eye on shallow, even degrading entertainment, apocalyptic paranoia and downright hallucinogenic misrepresentation, all coming to us with the fees that we have invested in Television and Social Media. Tence Ruiz calls out command hypocrisy, the tangle between humans and their self-destructive desires and the scorched earth despair that chaperones the simple wage earning majority.
“Chismosis,” while trying to be cute, often wrings acerbic. But even in a caustic chemical blitzkrieg, the onus is to duck, hold one’s breath, avoid dying at all costs and prevail. The three artists of this show uncover their survivalist notions and hope, god forbid, they have chosen correctly. Most of us will have to do with coping from this crisis to the next, finding a flicker of form and beauty in between, like a rusty but well wrought filigreed talisman.