The Regime
(1998–2003)
The series is as much a statement as it is an inquiry into our militarized present
“Today a fascinating language is spoken worldwide, using words such as campaign, target, strategy, which have a persistent military flavor: a sort of metallic ketchup to camouflage the taste of grind meat.”
Between 1999 and 2003 RP Browne worked on NN — THE REGIME, a critical series of large acrylics on the subjects of war, mechanization and imposition of a globally marketed society. Very aware of the hidden implications of the so called “globalization”, the artist delves into the darkest pools of the 20th century (including that of his own country’s) to retrieve a whole set of shocking imagery. The resulting series is as much a statement as it is an inquiry into our militarized present.
NN — THE REGIME — texts by RP Browne
The war appeared when I was barely five years of age. Many names disappeared along with it and a No Name generalized: NN.
This war arrived by importation, and not just here: like sesame seeds landing over a round bun, the blue globe was sprinkled with white stars and red rivers.
The gray matter for this process came in long anticipation from the North Sea, transported in the shadows by a submarine, or specially invited by some American country. As for the red one, indispensable for the gear to work properly (that is to say, at all times), it was bought cheap, obtained at point-blank or even delivered as a gift.
Everything turned out perfect, according to a meticulous plan prescribed by the Regime. Today a fascinating language is spoken worldwide, using words such as “campaign”, “target”, “strategy”, which have a persistent military flavor: a sort of metallic ketchup to camouflage the taste of grind meat.
The most delirious dreams are the easiest to sell; it just takes a few million souls full of hunger and illusion. Everyone will give away some hope and obediently put it in the waste bin, from which the texts for a magnetic and moving speech will be extracted. The Big Mother calls out for dinner.
The XX century is over. The most important structure it left behind (perhaps for another thousand years) is an astonishing Steel Counter, visible even from the moon. Unlike the Iron Curtain (its innocent predecessor), it doesn’t really matter on which side one stands: from now on there’s only one. It is our duty, as inhabitant-employees of The Regime, to keep the floor shinny so on its glowing reflection the illusion of a medal looks double.
Manager General
Why would enough be enough, when EVERYTHING could be possessed? Just organize a Regime: efficiency, efficiency, efficiency. Whatever else is irrelevant. Sharing? Stimulating? No use. Crumbs will always fall off the table, while the capital as a whole remains upon. Neither it matters that the meat gets corrupted, or…isn’t the wrapping more important that the contents?
The instrumentation of the Regime is only possible through the triumph of the will. We should trespass the borders that separates US from what belong to US (the extension of our being), and by the way, of our body. The price is minimal: a blitzkrieg combo, to be paid by our neighbor.
History books are never wrong, least of all those which review it. A lot has been written about the Conference of Yalta, but sadly very little about the one in Hamburg, during which the foundations of a happy new world where dug. Although trust wasn’t in much abundance, memorable moments where shared and jokes where told… That’s what clowns are in it for.
There’s an urban myth referring to hamburgers being made out of worms. How could such slick creatures be a part of our diet? Every explanation seems irrational: by means of a genetic experiment, for tidiness nonobservance, or love of nature. However, here lies the key: everyone is a cog within a natural mechanism, concerning of course, the same species every time. The machine never stops.
Should a Father of modern global marketing be appointed, the distinction could fall on Dr Joseph Goebbels’s bony shoulders. His work for the insane cause was brilliant; he managed through studies and efforts to convince an entire nation that the Golden Arches of Valhalla were around the corner — or Poland. Credit should not be given, despite certain indications, to the rumors insisting that he had a called dog Pavlov. Rather, it should go to those who said that he sincerely loved his children, who played with uncle Adolf until the very last day. This deep love for The Homeland, for propaganda (his vocation) and for his six offspring was demonstrated for posterity in a last and heroic act prior to his suicide: in collusion with his wife Magda, he gave them a dark, sweet and poisoned drink that extinguished each six innocent lives.
THE REGIME NN - Credits: -The BIG MAChine animation: Juan Ignacio Pérez Dos Santos — Curatorship at the Shoá Museum Buenos Aires: Irene Jaievsky - Sponsorship Management for the exhibition: Raquel Dos Santos - Antiwar Rally Support and photographs: J.I.Pérez DS- Axel Springer- Ezequiel Diaz Ortiz
Copyright RP Browne 2017 — For Information regarding RP Browne’s work please contact the artist at info@rpbrowne.com