Bruce Rubenstein was born and raised in New York. He moved to Los Angeles in ’85 where he currently resides with his wife and two daughters.
I’m here to let you know that Bruce Rubenstein is still at it. Forty years later. Still making art, and still making challenges for viewers (and reviewers) who like to pigeon-hole and oversimplify artists and their work, putting them into categories that are easy to deal with. Well, Rubenstein won’t stand for this. His artwork will always sneak away from categories, running away around to the back door and upstairs to the roof, or back to his studio, where they will tattle on categorizers to Bruce himself. And deservedly so. It doesn’t work.
I was going to say that his artwork defies regional categorization, but frankly, that doesn’t mean as much as it once did. Rubenstein himself, despite his years in California, seems very much still a New Yorker. He has a kind of nervous edge that you see in people on the NYC subway platform, late for work with no train in sight. But this is an honest, open nervousness, based less on angst and anger, than on simply wanting to get where one is going and on wanting to be part of all that’s happening in that big, congested, magical City.