Dogmatic Gallery, Chicago (1997-2008)

His Name Is Not Kimsy

Dogmatic, what is a Dogmatic?

Dogmatic opened in 1997. Its first show was, His Name Is Not Kimsy. 1822 S Desplaines is a mixed use residential building located in Chicago’s Pilsen neighborhood. The building houses between 2 and 5 occupants at any time. In addition to the exhibition area its residents also have ample living, studio and shared workshop space on site. Dogmatic was founded by four artists, Paul Chan, Aviv Kruglanski, Andrew Natale and Michael S. Thomas, the current director. The gallery's name has nothing to do with dogs. Siebren Versteeg, our web designer is responsible for the anthropomorphism of the gallery’s name. Dogmatic shows it all however site specific work is what the space is best known for. Dogmatic is a platform that artists, writers, and musicians are encouraged to make use of. We maintain that it is crucial that artists remain unedited and that the public not be ridiculed in order to reach a mutually beneficial understanding of this works cultural significance. Typically a show at Dogmatic is open for four weeks after its opening reception. Dogmatic is open to the public on Fridays and Saturdays otherwise appointments can be made. Dogmatic has a website at www.dogmaticchicago.com (the site will be undergoing some significant changes in the coming months) Dogmatic does sell limited term use franchises to artists to interested parties.

Images of early Dogmatic

Images from Dogmatic Advertising

Images from, Made at Work: What Artists Do When They Are Being Paid To Do Something Else (1999)

Comments

Totem

Tonight is old. It's wett but current and bored. I'm watching nothing but stars in the often sky that happen... do... tonight is lame like old, young like song, even as blue... Equal after the sun, noon or scripted yellow you are to me... A we (as sound)

Songlet is Best

fig.0231) FizzGraf MT. "Magical, like a chorus of like minded souls in a froth of cotton fumes." Over fake doors, under refurbished ladders, gypsum board and bent yellow pipes offering us an unmade bed and a stained window. Our one chance at tomorrow. Magnetic guts from at least a thousand cassettes are strewn across the room. Hee-Haw style, fancy dress shoes cling to the floor like it's '86 all over again. Hee-Haw, goes the sound. Hee-Haw, we're closer then we were. Hee-Haw, it's hilarious. Listening for trains, leaning out over the rails like two people with no time at all. Better maps, that's what we need. We could use a melody for singing with this chorus; in whose curious presence more patients wait to be found. With hands over our heads, someone passes by and asks, "gender?" There's stars in this sweet tooth of mine and some atoms left from the sky, Tonight the whole angle of heaven sleeps without light. Ordering its coffee darkest, t

Whiskers, chanting, "swap me, swap me!"

Fig.32) Aging poorly We're just together, taking ourselves for a tidy sum of walk and now our toes are wet and cool in the Lak, beside a cool stone that could drive a modernist to their flint. There's a listening experience that feels prepared, "our's for now, ours it says! Here's the hammer and it's wrapped in its own design already. A union in time-space, this card is our greetings, our massive, our very patience is reflected in this resolve." Suddenly, there's a cut away and she's wearing the pants that I've made for her, slow blue like painted smoke . I'm thinking about her hunched over the kitchen table, something that's stuck. There's a carving knife in her hand but from here, it's the same as an old spoon. From here my computer is sitting on my guilty seat, I'm thinking about champagne and comparing it to a thick wad bees and wondering whats in it for me? It's an anxious season, filled with not enough of anythin

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