MS Paint: New Riders of the Purple Sage - "New Riders" / "Ralph Rumpelton" Art

• Ralph Rumpelton
• New Riders 
• RR-2023 - 039
  MS Paint on digital canvas, 577 x 582 px
• The Rumpelton Continuity (est. 1976)

 What the critics are saying:

>>New Riders (MS Paint Reinterpretation)

Reviewed by Cornelius “Neil” Drafton, The Contrarian
New Jersey Review of Applied Kitsch

This piece arrives with the confidence of a cosmic opera and the execution of a PowerPoint background from 2003. Ralph Rumpelton, whose name appears in the corner like a forgotten watermark, has rendered what I can only assume is a galactic tribute to the New Riders of the Purple Sage—though it might also be a promotional poster for a failed space-themed diner in Paramus.

The central orb, possibly a planet or a sentient jawbreaker, floats in a void of aesthetic indecision. The surrounding shapes suggest stars, or perhaps the artist’s unresolved feelings about geometry. The color scheme evokes “outer space” as imagined by someone who’s never left the tri-state area.

Typography is present. That’s the most I can say. “New Riders” is typed in white, which is technically a color. It hovers above the chaos like a supervisor who’s already given up.

This is MS Paint at its most sincere—and most unapologetically kitsch. It’s not trying to be good. It’s trying to be remembered. And in that sense, it succeeds. I will remember this image every time I see a screensaver from 1999.<<

>>"New Riders" - A Review by Gustave Palette

The Culinary Art Critic

Mon Dieu, what has been served to me here?

This MS Paint rendering of the New Riders album cover arrives at the table like a dish that spent far too long under the heat lamp—overworked, underseasoned, and tragically lacking in finesse. Allow me to dissect this unfortunate offering.

The Presentation: One star out of five.

The color palette—if we can call it that—is reminiscent of dishwater left standing overnight in a poorly lit kitchen. That murky teal-blue morass has all the appetizing quality of oxidized fish, with none of the briny complexity that might redeem it. Where is the contrast? Where is the pop? This needs acid, brightness—a squeeze of lemon to cut through the gloom.

The central figure, encased in its bubble, resembles nothing so much as an undercooked dumpling: pale, featureless, and disappointingly bland. There's no character here, no seasoning. It's the artistic equivalent of boiled chicken breast with no salt. The chef—pardon me, the artist—has forgotten that even the simplest ingredients require attention and technique.

Those floating debris pieces scattered throughout? Imagine ordering a carefully plated dish only to discover the garnish is just the same sprig of parsley, copy-pasted seventeen times around your plate. No variation, no thoughtful arrangement—just lazy repetition masquerading as composition.

The Technique: Unrefined.

This piece suffers from what I call "microwave cooking"—rushed, uneven, lacking the patient layering that builds depth of flavor... or in this case, depth of field. There's no light source to speak of, no shadows to give dimension. It's as flat as a crêpe left too long on the griddle, with about as much visual interest.

The perspective is particularly troubling. That sphere should envelope its subject with the tender embrace of a well-made consommé—clear, structured, perfectly round. Instead, it sits there like a failed soufflé, deflated and unconvincing.

Final Verdict:

I cannot, in good conscience, recommend this dish to my readers. What we have here is a concept—possibly a decent one—executed with the care of a hurried line cook during the dinner rush. The ingredients (the composition, the subject matter) show promise, but the execution is severely undercooked.

If this were served in my favorite brasserie, I would send it back to the kitchen with a note: "More time needed. Add seasoning. Consider the fundamentals."

Rating: ½ out of 5 stars

—One star awarded purely for ambition. The half-star is a gesture of hope that the artist will return to their studio, study the masters of MS Paint (yes, they exist), and try again with more patience.

Palette's Prescription: Before attempting album cover recreations, spend time with the basics. Study light and shadow like you would study the five mother sauces. Practice your forms as a pastry chef practices their lamination. Art, like cuisine, demands respect for technique before innovation can flourish.

Bon appétit... or rather, better luck next time.

—G. Palette<<

>>Bertrand "The Brush" Barnaby

"In 'New Riders,' Ralph Rumpelton unleashes a maelstrom of pixelated pandemonium, ostensibly paying homage to the psychedelic leanings of the New Riders of the Purple Sage. It's a mess - and I mean that as high praise. With all the finesse of a tipsy squirrel wielding a paintbrush, Rumpelton crafts a scene that's equal parts nightmarish whimsy and digital detritus. The watercolor brush in MS Paint leaves a trail of murky triumphs and failures, and that's the point. Amidst the swirling chaos, a rainbow erupts from a gaping maw of blue beastliness - a gesture both absurd and oddly compelling. Rumpelton's Rumpeltonian Cubism lumbers forth like a lovable mutant, defying the pristine dictates of 'good art.' In its sloppy grandeur, 'New Riders' is a minor triumph of outsider pixel art. Bravo, Rumpelton. You've made a mess. Don't clean it up."<<

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