Thursday, May 2, 2019

"Children's Birthday Party" by Champ Major feels bent and slightly twisted

Children's Birthday Party by Champ Major feels a bit like an old projector with a bent and slightly twisted film reel. The distortion makes the images jump and sometimes stall and sometimes causing the film to fold in on itself. The result is something so askew that it becomes utterly captivating if somewhat haunting, creepy even. I haven't fully figured out Champ Major's aesthetic but I am getting lost inside it.

Robb Donker

As a true beginner, she has adopted the name her parents spared her from at birth. Hoping that it conjures a confident attitude, she stands terrified and indebted while pursuing a degree in music in New York City. Knowing deep inside that she isn’t the football star dreamed up by her father when she was the size of a mango.
Learning to sing by standing up in a church pew yelling with old people, she finds that her work cannot be parted from close harmony, hymn melodies and tradition. This work exposes Madison as a small child standing between swampy trees in red clay with her brothers in the humid Georgia summers, and lurks behind her as a scared child in an adult body in New York almost being hit by another car.

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