Bruno Peinado has about six different approaches. Some of his works come out of Japanese paper-cutting (and do goofy shit with “Asian” visuals), others with reflectivity (like Jeff Koons but not annoying or trite), still others with material chunkiness, a Beuysian love for texture. All of it plays with scale and presence, alternately dominating a room or squatting bloopily in a landscape.
The hook about this guy is that he’s an anti-copyright reappropriator, but that’s a fairly trendy thing to assert these days and those who pay too much heed to the fact that he’s putting those elements in play risk overlooking their more compelling effects. A shared taste for plastic and common forays into Jordan-land means that he needs to have a beer with Brian Jungen, pronto.
Among his too-rare ventures into commentary on Africa, the US and Europe, there’s a reworking of the Michelin Man as an afrocentric cult item. While Bib is frequently seen in North America as a harmless history-of-design landmark with a winning personality, it’s worth keeping in mind that he’s the kind rubber face of an enormous conglomerate, a sort of European Mickey Mouse (did I fail to mention that Disney gets it too?).
Bruno Peinado at galerie loevenbruck