Jenna Spevack’s current exhibition at Mixed Greens seems take a shot at this popular preoccupation. Eight Extraordinary Greens is part public service announcement, part experiment in farming and part installation.
Howard Hurst
All articles by Howard Hurst
Howard Hurst
Last weekend I visited Regina Rex in Ridgewood, Queens, and it felt like a relief to be able to spend time in a gallery that also inhabits a studio building, which means being surrounded by artists rather than dealers.
In the last several years, the term “pop up” has become ubiquitous in the art world. The majority of these related, newfound endeavors — brief exhibitions, stores and happenings — make charming use of relatively sparse, small storefronts. In this vein, I’ve come to expect a bit of space-maximizing ingenuity from the pop-up crowd. And yet I couldn’t have been more pleased to find the exact opposite at No Longer Empty’s latest temporary exhibition, This Side of Paradise. The sprawling show occupies more than 20 rooms of the abandoned Andrew Freedman Home in the Bronx and takes its name from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s first novel, a fitting tale of greed and social ambition.
MoMA’s latest thematic exhibition Print/Out aims to examine the ways printing has expanded and molded contemporary art practice. Is it successful?
This week I had the opportunity to check out the newest exhibition at Brennan and Griffin Gallery, “Guy Goodwin: Recent Works.” It’s one of those exhibitions you feel good about from the moment you enter the room.
Franklin Evans is a Brooklyn-based artist. You might have heard of him as a result of his involvement in PS1’s 2010 installment of Greater New York. I knew little about the artist until I walked into his current exhibition Eyes on the Edge at Sue Scott Gallery. He is a painter and installation artist of the self aware/self conscious brand. Upon entering the gallery the visitor is forced to walk across a Plexiglas-faced bookshelf installed on the floor. Resting on the upturned shelves is a carefully installed library — presumably the artist’s own.
Lebbeus Woods is probably the most famous architect you’ve never heard of. Although, perhaps the word architect is limiting. Since the beginning of his career at a number of highbrow firms in the 1980s the architect, theorist and (I will venture) artist has weaved his off kilter brand of design in and out of a variety of mediums. He has become most famous for his temporary installations, pavilions, interventions and proposals that play with existing spaces, designs and systems.
The beginning of January marked the opening of Hoodwinked, a two-man show featuring Richard Prince and Mike Kelley at Nyehaus gallery in Chelsea. I had the pleasure of visiting the exhibition several times and the unnerving but positive opportunity to revisit it after the artist’s death, as the gallery extended the exhibition in lieu of the circumstances.
I recently curated an art show at Number 35 Gallery on the Lower East Side. I am admittedly a frequent and outspoken critique of the curatorial process. I’m the first one to harp on a curator, perhaps, admittedly, to the discredit of what is often times totally great artwork. I would feel hypocritical if I didn’t address the process myself.
This week, the guys over at NYPL Labs launched their Stereogranimator, which promises to revive interest in the 40,000-strong vintage stereograms in their collection.
