Tim Hamilton

The Standard Hotel was the venue for Tim Hamilton’s presentation tonight, where he imagined uniforms for a future dystopian world. Considering the rigmarole getting through the door, that dystopian world didn’t feel far off.

Inside, a row of tattooed boys and girls stood at attention, perched on gold-soled black wedge boots behind a thin white line. The immediate vibe was computer-generated humanoids, wearing disproportionate outfits that paired cropped knits with fiercely tapered pants. Every five minutes a fresh batch of robotic youth filed in to take their place. The show notes suggested Aldous Huxley, but the choreography was more Tron Legacy.

Artist Ross Bleckner collaborated on the prints, a graphic and colorful respite from the all-pervasive black, gray, maroon and drab found throughout. In splashes of orange, red, sky blue and yellow, they were the highlights of what was otherwise a rather strange and disjointed collection—which perhaps was the point.

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