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Raymond Pettibon by Robert Storr

ronanmcd's review against another edition

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5.0

So it turns out my feelings about Pettibon's work are echoed in my judgement of him; arresting but tempered with a vague air of aloof cynicism.
His work is somewhat clearer having read this book, with little thanks to the profoundly directionless texts. The book reinforces that the art exists in a space between image and text. Always. The words are sourced, ordinarily from literature, and the images inventions. There are no links between word and image, but somehow by diving in and following the meanders we arrive at some kind of understanding of how this work explores the world we inhabit. There is no aha moment, the magnitude of the works must flow. It is the sum of all its parts.
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