In Kutluğ Ataman’s fourth show at Lehmann Maupin he constructs a dynamic video portrait of Stefan Naumann, a young German man obsessed with moths.
Walk into David Altmejds exhibition at Andrea Rosen and there it is, in the center of the gallery floor: the ur-piece, his biggest sculpture yet, an inevitable explosion of his mysterious personal system of iconography.
With eyes resting on an old pipe in a small room in a monstrous gallery building on the west side of Chelsea, its painted coating ravaged with cracks and flaking, my mind wandered back into memory.
Of the quality of Vincent Katz’s confessional poetry on the walls of Bruno Marina Gallery, I am little qualified to judge, except to say that it is touching in its intimacy.
Cecily Kahn has been committed to the tradition of early American abstract painting for many years.
An embroidered scroll emanating from a fat papier-mâché kitten, a pop-up dungeon diorama, phone books twisted and turned into spiral waves, a flipbook of armpits bound in dirty tee-shirt cotton.
Cora Cohen’s recent paintings explore a theme that never ceases to challenge: the multiple paths within abstraction.
As you enter the first room of the Ubu Gallery, a large oil painting of a naked man listening to radio-headphones dominates the stage in a powerful painting by Kurt Weinhold.
The art of design often takes a back seat to explorations of art and architecture, fashion, or music.