By John Thomason
By Benjy Caplan
By Artburst Miami
By Carlos Suarez De Jesus
By Daniel Reskin
Kastel yanked the plug on the video signal, knocking the kidnapper out of the picture. Karman Cubiña clapped her hands like a schoolmarm and the credits rolled at the Moore Space. "That's what I love about this type of work," she sighed. "It's so -- open-ended."
Pick a scab and it bleeds, I thought.
I headed over to the Collins Building for an art nightcap. Dacra had loaned the space to artist Jenna Balfe, who organized the "It's Been Ten Years Since Kurt Cobain Died" show for this installment of the Miami Design District gallery walk. Inside the space hundreds of angst-addled cherubim swarmed like flies atop a steaming pile of the abject. This was a scene out of Night of the Living Dead.
Artist Dustin Orlando peppered the walls with headshots of Cobain and strung up a shotgun over them. Luis Ruiz spray-painted over the vulvas of Barbie dolls and nailed them up in festive collages against the cinderblock walls. The words "Rape Me" could be read over one of the vulvas, together with glued Marlboro butts, razors, and lithium pills in a rainbow arrangement.
Luis Garcia hung photos of a bleary-eyed boy, sitting in the front seat of a Chevy, pulling on a roach in hemostats. Another photo showed someone finger-tapping a syringe before going mainline.
Wyndam Bucknell III displayed a piece of gum, a graveyard bouquet, a collection of diaries, and sundry memorabilia he associates with Cobain. Bucknell held forth, pitching his upcoming show at OBJEX artspace, "Why I Think I Am So Fucking Special," and comparing himself with William Blake.
Ed from the band SkiiMaul smashed a guitar on the concrete floor, inciting a riot of approval from his public. Artist Otto Von Schirach conducted a séance with a Ouija board and channeled the spirit of Cobain into Balfe. She made a sculpture from the guitar's remains and wrote on a mirror: "I love Kurdt Kobane."
Outside the building, a huge sign on the wall read: "Commercial space for lease."