New York’s most important exhibiting institution without its own permanent collection is at present featuring a remarkably stimulating show about the act of collection and preservation.
n the conclusion of his 1983 review of a Lee Krasner retrospective held at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts, Robert Hughes wrote: “This is an intensely moving exhibition, and it will suggest to all but the most doctrinaire how many revisions of postwar American art history are still waiting to be made.”
Just about everything you need to know about Dennis Oppenheim and his work is expressed in the touching video piece Star Exchange (1970) on view in the indoor gallery at Storm Kingpart of the expansive indoor and outdoor exhibition of the artist’s work, Terrestrial Studio.
Just inside the entrance to Art AIDS America, Marlon Riggs’s fifty-five minute Tongues Untied (1989) is projected on a large wall within its own gallery, playing on a continuous loop for the duration of the show.
The Korean artist Chung Sang-Hwa, now in his mid-eighties, is best known as a participant in the Tansaekhwa, or Korean monochrome painting movement. He has traveled greatly in the West and spent extensive time in Paris, where he first moved in 1967 and likely picked up some of the abstract painting concerns facing Western artists at the time.
A cresting hill forces a sharp incline in the otherwise flat highway. Industrial grays and frontage greens fly by the window in the driver’s periphery. From over the hill, a figure emerges into view, a woman’s outlinean apparition sheathed in a sheer curtainimposes itself on the landscape.
Deep within the labyrinthine halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, tucked within a makeshift darkroom, Phil Collins’s how to make a refugee (1990) asks hurried visitors to pause.
In the great chain of being, brute matter has never fared well. Cast as cold, lifeless, and dumb, denizens of the rock, earth, and mineral worlds have long occupied the bottommost rung on the ontological laddera ladder that, having been fashioned by us, naturally has human beings somewhere at the top.
Tony Oursler: The Imponderable Archive consists of 680 items culled from 2,500 photographs, news clippings, books, and assorted objects from the artist’s collection.
If criticism manifests most strongly in the face of what is meant to move us forward as a species, one can only imagine what curator John Cheim was expecting for the onset of his most recent exhibition, The Female Gaze, Part II: Women Look at Men.
There’s a young woman sitting in a market stall. Behind her hangs a row of dresses. A small Turkish national flag is draped above one of them. She might be in Istanbul, recently arrived from the countryside.
With 170-plus examples of haute couture and ready-to-wear designs from the 19th century to the 21st, Manus x Machina largely lives up to its ambitious agenda of examining the symbiosis between traditional handcrafted work and technological innovation in fashion’s history.
How does an image transfigure? / How fast can it appear before consciousness?
It seems like a betrayal to perceive Gabriela Salazar’s exhibition with the eyes instead of the hands.
The basket, also pink, is of a dull and dusty plastic. Somehow it manages to appear soft, as if it could melt into the floor or jiggle with a touch. In a dream, the potatoes might climb out of the basket, don that porcelain crown, and ooze onto the sidewalk.