In my spare time, I have taken to cataloging local examples of contemporary penis-and-testicles-based artwork, in the hopes of one day releasing a comprehensive review of the genre. Here is my latest compilation – a series I call simply “Coq et Bal: Whither Jizz?”
Owairaka Park, April 2012 | Ink on Playground Aparatus
A confronting piece. Note that one testicle has hairs while the other remains bare – a gripping commentary on the dual nature of man. Are we doomed to pursue our bestial side, or can we ascend our base origins, to emerge shorn of rapacity and corruption? The answers are known to none, save what gods there may be – and they remain silent.
A playful work, with nevertheless dark undertones. At first glance, we may even be seeing flying saucers, or perhaps a collection of sombreros – it is only on closer inspection that their true nature is confirmed. The fattest been placed directly underneath a sticker of a grinning Hamburglar – at once a statement on society’s attitudes towards the “criminal classes” and a reaction against the mascot of a corporate giant. The density of meaning in the piece is a statement in itself.
In viewing this piece, one is initially forced to confront one’s own sense of self in the distorted reflection offered by the “canvas”. Is this how one is perceived by others? Is this how one perceives oneself? Compounding the existential disquiet is the fact that the elevator has doors on both sides – at some point one has no choice but turn one’s back on the piece, offering one’s own posterior to the rampant cock of nihilism. Will it be on ingress or egress? Powerful.
Ellerslie Overpass, January 2009 | Spraypaint on Concrete
It is with no hyperbole that I describe this work as a modern masterpiece. Compared to the minimalism of the previous pieces, this work stands fully complete – cock, balls, veins, hairs and even a lovingly rendered spermatozoa. Fully two meters in length, removal by conventional methods proved impossible – at the end of its exhibition the entire footpath was simply painted over. It could not be erased from the world; instead the world was forced to contrive a veneer of respectability, in denial of the primal forces that lurk mere atoms beneath its surface. An unqualified triumph.