Even though the show brings together a few unusual tricks, they are disjointed and leave little for the eye to linger on.

This is the work of a mind that, having needlessly spent years in therapy, became hooked on ennui or of an artist who wasted time misreading Lacan.

Rothko’s abstractions are said to have induced tears in viewers overwhelmed by abstraction. Staring at the sun here, however, barely causes blindness.

Only in flights of anger does this vision come close to becoming believable.

The party slumps into a half-voiced political complaint and never recovers. This is what happens when instead of living culture, we ‘celebrate’ it.

Conanico’s slight structures look like they could take flight at any moment.