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Even for a viewer largely ignorant of Tibetan Buddhism, the Tantra paintings at the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Art have a transcendent intensity. The central figures, remote yet radiant in their precision of detail and vibrancy of color, are pivots in a fierce, wheeling geometry that presents an image of dynamic cosmic forces the viewer is meant to internalize and take out into the world.
First of all, I would like to point out that I am more and more against criticism in general. Through my own experience, I have learned that at the end of the day criticism brings more bad than good energy to the table.
Today a few architects make architecture that looks like sculpture and a few artists are making sculpture that looks like architecture.
As an art historian, an art critic, and an émigré living in New York, I am used to seeing things through other peoples eyes. Two friends came to attend one of the openings at the new MoMA.
One is so grateful to have the familiar masterpieces of the collection back in Manhattan and available again that criticisms of the museum seem like hair-splitting.
By now, everyone knows that the renovated and greatly expanded Museum of Modern Art has re-opened, returning after a two and a half year residencyor exile, depending upon whom youre talking toin Queens. Leading the welcome home committee was The New York Times, which turned into The MoMA Times for the duration, reporting on every conceivable aspect of the projectbefore, during, after, stillomitting, it seems, only the brand of toilet paper available in the shining new bathrooms.
The re-hanging of the permanent collection at the Museum of Modern Art offers the opportunity to consider the framing and the re-framing of parts of the collection, which began even before the museum embarked upon its expansion.
Mobs of anxious East Village aficionados arrived by foot, bike, and taxi. Carlo McCormick was out front for a smoke break. I waited briefly before entering to see who would show up.
Leading from the painter Catherine Murphys home in Poughkeepsie, New York to her studio is a beautiful path of brown sand over a field of frozen snow made by her husband the sculptor Harry Roseman.
Maybe it was in 1972 that I first saw actual paintings by Agnes Martin, at Robert Elkon Gallery in New York.
In 1976 I arrived at Visual Studies Workshop in Rochester, New York, to study photography as language with Nathan Lyons. At that time, VSW was arguably the best school of photographic studies in the countryintellectually rigorous, competitive, and austere.