Rock n’ Roll, Drugs and Sex
Charcoal on paper by Randy Twaddlein “Randy Twaddle: Reversal Drawings”
D. Berman Gallery, through April 5
A huge charcoal drawing looms on the wall of D. Berman Gallery; gray-black billows, splotches, and smears meander across it like a plume of post-apocalyptic smut. Upon closer inspection, the texture of the piece reminds this viewer of industrial waste products: factory smoke, coal dust, oil stains on cement. Thin lines run through the background of this bleak scene, simultaneously evoking those ubiquitous bar codes on supermarket products and film streaks that appear onscreen at the beginning of old rundown black-and-white movies. Floating through the grime is a curling banner printed with the words “rock n’ roll, drugs and sex.”
The background world of Twaddle’s drawing is covered in tired filth. Even the phrase the viewer may initially think she’s seeing, “sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll,” has been worn to dull gray with overuse. By reversing the phrase and placing it at the center of this burned-out scene, Twaddle draws our attention to it, making it an example of verbal recycling in an otherwise wasted landscape. Sure, “rock n’ roll, drugs and sex” sounds off and a little out-of-the-loop, like something a conservative Christian preacher, or first-semester English as a Second Language student, might say. But it’s new, and it offers a strange sense of whimsy and hope to this otherwise gloomy work. Rock n’ Roll, Drugs and Sex offers a glimpse of innovation for those tired and sick of this hackneyed world.
This article appears in March 21 • 2003.