Matthew Lutz-Kinoy
25 May - 07 Jul 2013
MATTHEW LUTZ-KINOY
Matthew's Secret
25 May - 7 July 2013
Matthew Lutz-Kinoy is the kind of artist for whom a bedroom could be cited as the principle material for a work. There's the bed, the desk, the video camera and books. There is also plenty of stuff that is not obviously useful, but infers the cultivation of an aesthetic. A box of golden thread (with pieces no longer than an inch), a bag of scrap cloth (but of pretty color), scraps of tissue (worth keeping).
These objects sit on his desk, waiting to get arranged into a collage. But he decides that the collage should include more than the pieces of material, and the paper alone. It should include the piece of paper and the desk on which it sits, with the lamp, and the bundle of colored pencils. The scissors and the glue - what comes together, what comes apart. It should include his hand, which works on it, and whatever else is around. Because, after all he is there at the desk, a body connected to a hand, wearing some clothes that he might have made, or altered or just chosen out.
While working he might need a nap, or desire to look out the window and so the collage is drawn out wider to include this path around the room - the desk, the bed, the window. He starts to video these miniature narratives as a performance carried out in private, an intrinsically precocious moment, that can never be bound in a single video but a practice, where these pieces of scrap, and this image, the whole desk, can be part of a more complicated montage with the things in his mind, mood, and imagination.
Matthew's work is about being able to place a tendency for abstraction within a more broad experience of life, and then to communicate this experience back into formalism through a deeply personal species of performance. One pushing the other, which then responds and re-in forms itself - dual impulses that drive a life of creativity and not just a discipline.
-James English Leary 2006
"Matthew Lutz-Kinoy" THE INVENTION OF SOLITUDE PUBLICATION, page 26,
published by Aston and Horrox, ISBN 978-0-9549748-1-6
Matthew's Secret
25 May - 7 July 2013
Matthew Lutz-Kinoy is the kind of artist for whom a bedroom could be cited as the principle material for a work. There's the bed, the desk, the video camera and books. There is also plenty of stuff that is not obviously useful, but infers the cultivation of an aesthetic. A box of golden thread (with pieces no longer than an inch), a bag of scrap cloth (but of pretty color), scraps of tissue (worth keeping).
These objects sit on his desk, waiting to get arranged into a collage. But he decides that the collage should include more than the pieces of material, and the paper alone. It should include the piece of paper and the desk on which it sits, with the lamp, and the bundle of colored pencils. The scissors and the glue - what comes together, what comes apart. It should include his hand, which works on it, and whatever else is around. Because, after all he is there at the desk, a body connected to a hand, wearing some clothes that he might have made, or altered or just chosen out.
While working he might need a nap, or desire to look out the window and so the collage is drawn out wider to include this path around the room - the desk, the bed, the window. He starts to video these miniature narratives as a performance carried out in private, an intrinsically precocious moment, that can never be bound in a single video but a practice, where these pieces of scrap, and this image, the whole desk, can be part of a more complicated montage with the things in his mind, mood, and imagination.
Matthew's work is about being able to place a tendency for abstraction within a more broad experience of life, and then to communicate this experience back into formalism through a deeply personal species of performance. One pushing the other, which then responds and re-in forms itself - dual impulses that drive a life of creativity and not just a discipline.
-James English Leary 2006
"Matthew Lutz-Kinoy" THE INVENTION OF SOLITUDE PUBLICATION, page 26,
published by Aston and Horrox, ISBN 978-0-9549748-1-6