The critic and art book publisher Lemuel Aleazor had packaged Siklab. Twenty years ago, Aleazor had proclaimed a new school of painting epitomized by Siklab as “evolutionary postmodern De-Colonialism.” He had academics enthuse over Siklab’s “deconstructions of photographic historicity and advocational reconstruction of a purgatorial portraiture with hyperbolic intensifications and variations of color and linear construction.” Then there were the long-winded dissections of the “craftsman-like individuality that is intrinsically Colonialist with fauvist sensibilities and processed ad hocism c*m intuitive sensational sensualities” and his “post-modernist conscientizations of aesthetic praxis and catharsis.”
Aleazor had such a formidable PR machine that no one who mattered had ever been brave
