Max Hooper Schneider has witnessed the birth of life, and he’s witnessed its death too. The American artist got a place on a scientific expedition to deep sea hydrothermal vents, where fungi and bacteria are spewed out, giving life to the seas. But he’s also been to the reefs of Fukushima, where life has been obliterated by nuclear holocaust.
His sculptural work here is art for the end times. He makes grisly, oily, grimy little dioramas of life after ecological collapse, after the death of the planet. Each is a dystopian, cyberpunk world unto itself; one is an arcade bathed in sickly green light, the screens of its machines shattered, weeds growing through the cracks in the ground. Another is a bar, its stools empty, its drinks un-drunk, its tiny screens all showing episodes of ‘Cheers’. There’s a library that has become an oil well, a room which has become encased in mushrooms and cereal.
In the biggest work, a crayfish has become a mini model train, running on tracks around screens showing images of deep sea creatures. It’s surreal, dark, miserably funny. All the detritus of modern life, the pop culture, the entertainment, the consumption, left to rot forever.
The copper sculptures are a little generic looking and art fair-y, but the dioramas are great. Like Mike Kelley doing post-apocalyptic Polly Pockets.
This is life after the fall, after humanity has retreated to the earth’s crust in a desperate bid for survival. This is what we’re doing, what we have done, to ourselves. This is our future, our imminent demise, and Max Hooper Schneider’s vision of it is as terrifying as it is brilliant.
