We’re nearing the point at which one fiction blockbuster could outsell the entire nonfiction bestseller list . . . just a moment.
Just a moment. I think I just found it. . .
A novel of unusual penetrating power, polish and accomplished mastery of riveting narrative prose. I think you've come a long way, Dave
Haussmann’s Boulevard
Strange. I've seen her face before. Footsteps echoed in the dark. Rainy night. She follows me alone. Rubber squeals on the stones. Like a drone - stealing for its prey. In the dark all street cats are grey.
Rafman emerged in the international art world in the 2000s, mining the stranger corners of internet culture before social media changed everything.
He has described himself as a kind of flâneur of the fringe web, comparing Baron Haussmann’s remaking of 19th-century Paris – which helped destroy the street culture Charles Baudelaire’s flâneur wandered through – to the corporate takeover of the internet by Meta, Twitter and Google.
His subjects are gamers, trolls, online obsessives and lonely digital wanderers. His worlds are bleak, but extremely funny, and as seductive as the trashiest of ’90s-era daytime TV.
His works recall Jean Baudrillard’s provocative postmodern idea that reality has become inseparable from the images and simulations around us.
Like a Goya of Google, artist Jon Rafman fixates on the internet’s perverse pleasures
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