“The piece has the logic of a dream, the unconscious,” Poppers says. In a way, White Snow, or WS, makes us feel privy to McCarthy’s darkest, strangest thoughts. The silicone casts, which also employ paint, hair, wood, and glass, figure Poppers’s nude body in various positions so realistically that it’s hard to remember it’s not real. Soon after, McCarthy approached Poppers about posing for Life Cast, a series of sculptures currently on view at Hauser’s uptown location on 69th Street. First came Rebel Dabble Babble, which originated as a contribution to **James Franco’**s 2012 Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles show based on the 1955 classic film Rebel Without a Cause and has since been expanded into a standalone work (that film debuts at Hauser & Wirth’s West 18th Street location June 20). Two years later, Poppers has worked with the artist on three different projects-enough to consider her McCarthy’s latest muse. So I bought tons of art supplies and, basically, started trying everything.” She finally fell upon acting, her “first love,” and auditioned for McCarthy like at any other casting call. “I had always thought of myself as someone who wrote about art and loved being around art, but never as an artist. “I started to think about creativity again,” Poppers explained. As _New York’_s Jerry Saltz said at last night’s opening, “’s going all the way.” The film’s entire narrative, edited by McCarthy’s son Damon, comprises no less than seven hours of tape on four screens. Later, the gang is joined by Walt Paul (played by McCarthy himself playing Walt Disney with a Hitler mustache) and together they all but destroy the set-a replica of the artist’s childhood home. A few minutes later, she is naked on a bed while “dwarves”-nine rather than seven, ranging in size from under four feet to over six feet-surround her, moaning incoherently. Snow White, a brunette who would be classically beautiful if it weren’t for her grotesquely protuberant nose, is defiling herself. First, one notices the exhibition’s other visitors, who inevitably stare, awestruck and often mouth agape, at the video projected on the walls above. Nor is it any of the various interior scenes that look like film sets hit by a natural disaster. The first thing one sees upon entering WS, **Paul McCarthy’**s overwhelming installation that opens today at the Park Avenue Armory, is not the primeval, plastic forest, lushly lit from above in teal and fuchsia and yellow.
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