A pastel rainbow of brash, geometric lines are contaminating a disquietingly familiar landscape. Sharp streams of light are pouring down upon us now like extra-strength silly stream, firework trails fading into the night– precariously dangling fiber-optic cables transmitting the secret signals of an impotent global conspiracy. Jules de Balincourt’s artwork is fixated on depictions of an America on the verge of collapse, contrasting the dark drone of a disaster premonition with the relentlessly colorful spurts of his bright abstractions. Pitting nostalgic depictions of luxury vacation resorts against comically ominous text and the threat of a natural world in crisis, Balincourt’s work often feels like a smiling pastiche of political art– but you get the feeling that his concern for the future is entirely genuine. Terror and humor overlap in a bewitching duality of the kind that only a Frenchman living in New York could hope to produce.
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