IN THE THIRD PERSON;
Maisie Corl (b. 2002, New York) is an artist based in Chicago, IL. She is currently earning her BFA at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
IN THE FIRST PERSON;
it’s sort of a new world where white lies and embellishments can be truthful, a science-fiction space-fantasy where how it felt and what it was were the same thing. in speech, in advertising, what you said you were doing just tells a lie about what you hoped might happen as a result. in the paintings there’s no dialogue, we can only communicate through action, feigned or genuine. The only predators are other cuteified animals. It's not so simple who is hurting who, their sparkling eyes filled with fear/malice/anticipation. All tears are crocodiles', all pounding is rabbits' feet, like; I didn't mean to be unkind, I just wanted to know if you bleed. No hate, just the curiousity of a thousand wide-eyed cains/neanderthals/hominids smashing each-other with rocks. Their simplified faces allow for a domino mask of plausible deniability. Supergirls and amateur wrestlers circle each other in perpetuity, each too prideful to learn who is who.
I'm looking at you expectantly.
U-pick, i guess; you said. ‘But you've ne'er even drawn a crocodile.’
in my perfect diary, we were the same beast.
Maisie Corl (b. 2002, New York) is an artist based in Chicago, IL. She is currently earning her BFA at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Corl reclaims girlhood from the commodifying impulses of internet culture. Returning to her girls a capacity for
cruelty and a fascination with darkness, Corl’s paintings suggest alternative narratives to the tropes of cuteness we see and consume. In Corl’s work, girls are both the consumed and the consumer, the fetish and the gaze, the agent of force and the agent of resistance. Corl’s visual vocabulary of girlhood is grounded in one that we readily recognize, but thickly
layered paint and tense linework offer the girls masquerades—they get to decide if and how they want to be seen. Tension is concentrated in the figures’ hands—elongated and sharp, they touch, pick, and grasp. Corl’s shadowy scenes allow femininity to indulge in desire, monstrosity, catharsis, and control.
-Tiffany Wu, for hardboiled, 2024.
-Tiffany Wu, for hardboiled, 2024.
IN THE FIRST PERSON;
it’s sort of a new world where white lies and embellishments can be truthful, a science-fiction space-fantasy where how it felt and what it was were the same thing. in speech, in advertising, what you said you were doing just tells a lie about what you hoped might happen as a result. in the paintings there’s no dialogue, we can only communicate through action, feigned or genuine. The only predators are other cuteified animals. It's not so simple who is hurting who, their sparkling eyes filled with fear/malice/anticipation. All tears are crocodiles', all pounding is rabbits' feet, like; I didn't mean to be unkind, I just wanted to know if you bleed. No hate, just the curiousity of a thousand wide-eyed cains/neanderthals/hominids smashing each-other with rocks. Their simplified faces allow for a domino mask of plausible deniability. Supergirls and amateur wrestlers circle each other in perpetuity, each too prideful to learn who is who.
I'm looking at you expectantly.
U-pick, i guess; you said. ‘But you've ne'er even drawn a crocodile.’
in my perfect diary, we were the same beast.