Lucy Coggle — I´m a better talker

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The contradiction of I'm a better talker, is that in spite of this boast, the patter of the exhbition is exceptionally stupid, banal and repetitive (in order R-L from the door): there is a half-hearted nonsense definition, the inspid assurance ‘friendly' cascading to the floor, and the inoffensive expletive ‘bugger' built up to an epic landscape. Even discounting writers and comparing this solely with the work of other artists, it seems hard to identify the function of language as we see it operating here: we are not offered the vernacular of Richard Prince, the narrative of Sean Landers, the verbosity Raymond Pettibon, the precision of Ed Ruscha, or still less the polemic of Barbara Kruger. Instead, I'm a better talker seems pointedly to set image and text at odds: what it is saying and what it is doing are in constant contradiction, and like the duck-rabbit of the original master of language games, Wittgenstein, the work seems to flicker back and forth between its two states.