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Hyperallergic’s horoscopes offer astrological advice for artists and art types, in art terms, every month.
Virgo (August 23–September 23)
It’s your month, so why are you being so jealous and mean? You’re envious of and aggressive toward your closest friends and colleagues, but can’t see that the person you’re most angry with is yourself. Like a confused gallery-goer coming upon one of Michelangelo Pistoletto‘s reflective wall works, you’ve mistaken your own image for someone else. We’re talking about the man in the mirror, Virgo! Make that change.
Libra (September 24–October 23)
Neo Rauch only finishes a few paintings a year. Collectors are lined up around the block for works by the Leipzig School leader, but he just keeps at it, slow and steady, and it seems to be working out for him. Keep Rauch in mind this month, Libra, as you’ll have opportunities to take down your most bothersome rivals, but only enough time and energy to successfully carry out one or two such attacks. Plot your moves carefully, conserve your energy, and play the long game.
Scorpio (October 24–November 22)
For their 2006 piece “Clamor,” the artist duo Allora & Calzadilla built a military bunker out of plaster and foam then had a brass band perform a pan-historical medley of music used in various military conflicts from inside the sculpture. It was intended as an absurdist investigation of, among other things, the ways that music can be put to nefarious uses, like signaling troops to attack or retreat. Consider this your cue to retreat, Scorpio, because everything will go wrong for you this month. Make yourself a killer playlist, find a bunker, and stay there through September 30.
Sagittarius (November 23–December 21)
Artist’s block is a bitch, Sagittarius. Anxiety of influence can be paralyzing, but, you know, just because Marcel Duchamp, Andy Warhol, Yayoi Kusama, and whomever else have already done it doesn’t mean you can’t do it better; those artists had off days, too.
The above is what we would be telling you any other month, but if you’re feeling uncertain or tentative in September, there’s probably a good reason. Back to the drawing board!
Capricorn (December 22–January 20)
Have you spent much time with Bruce Nauman’s “Clown Torture” (1987)? It’s pretty fun, albeit in a nightmarish sort of way (especially for the clowns). If you’re not familiar, it’s a room-size installation with multiple projections and televisions all showing footage of clowns being tortured in various ways, some clown-specific — like the clown who has to use a cane to keep a plate pinned to the ceiling in order to prevent it from smashing — while others suffer more general torture tactics. You will live through your own private version of “Clown Torture” this month, Capricorn, but don’t worry: you’ll get through it if you are extremely creative and spontaneous. Be like Bruce.
Aquarius (January 21–February 19)
We realize there are thousands of exhibitions opening in the coming weeks in New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and every other major art city, but trust us, Aquarius, when we tell you that you should spend as much of the rest of the month as possible at home. Venturing beyond your burrow (never mind your borough) will spell romantic and professional disaster, so hunker down and queue up some art documentaries. See you in October!
Pisces (February 20–March 20)
We have a phrase we like to throw around at the annual general meeting of the HAWUSA (Horoscope Art Writers, USA chapter), and it describes your situation in September to a T, Pisces: make this a “Pointillist month.” No, we’re not suggesting you attempt to synthesize a radical new way of thinking about and making art, culture, and life (we call those “Dada months”), just that this is a time to focus on minutiae, repetitive tasks, and small projects because anything more ambitious you undertake will fail.
Aries (March 21–April 20)
Choose wisely when planning a date at an exhibition opening, Aries. September is both chockablock with receptions and an astrologically ideal time for you to be taking your loved one(s) on romantic outings, so the impulse to combine these activities is understandable. Just, you know, maybe Hermann Nitsch’s bloody abstract expressionist works at Marc Straus will kill the mood? Dana Schutz’s funny, awkward, and dirty paintings at Petzel will probably set a better tone for your evening out.
Taurus (April 21–May 21)
Remember Megumi Igarashi? Last year the Japanese artist was arrested (twice) for distributing 3D models of her genitals as a crowd-funding reward for a project to make a kayak in the shape of her vagina. Follow Igarashi’s example this month, or rather, the example of her vagina kayak, and just go with the flow. Rocking boats, proverbial or actual, is not a good idea right now, and standing trial on obscenity charges — or facing comparable hardships — is not the sort of ordeal that will play out in your favor this month. Smooth kayaking awaits, Taurus, in October.
Gemini (May 22–June 21)
Who do you think you are, Gemini, Wolfgang Beltracchi? The prolific German art forger, notorious for, among other things, his aesthetically promiscuous ability to make convincing fakes in the styles of Max Ernst, André Derain, and other modernists as well as the Renaissance masters, remains adamant about his polydactyl painting skills. You, similarly, have been pursuing many often-contradictory projects with gusto, but at some point you’re going to have to come to terms with their incompatible imperatives. A word of advice: whether you’re headed for a multi-million dollar forgery bust or a mere aesthetic crisis, your friends will offer invaluable help.
Cancer (June 22–July 22)
Have you seen the video “Flooded McDonald’s” (2009) by the Danish art collective Superflex? We can’t watch it without squirming, the rising waters setting off our inner neat freak as they slowly fill up the entire fast food franchise facsimile with a flotsam of trash. If only the line cook or the drive-thru operator had noticed the leak before clocking out, we think ineptly whenever we watch it. Snuff September’s many professional problems out before they overwhelm you, Cancer. Doing so will help distract you from catastrophic turns in your friendships and romantic prospects.
Leo (July 23–August 22)
Can you imagine the insane pressure endured by auction house specialists, Leo, to secure the best artworks from the top collectors season in and season out, and then see the lots through to successful sales on auction day? We’re reminded of former head of contemporary art at Sotheby’s, Tobias Meyer, weeping over the ordeal of securing Warhol’s “Silver Car Crash (Double Disaster)” for a sale in 2013. That type of stress must seem familiar because you’re also currently dealing with the unreasonable expectations and demands of an unfeeling boss. Don’t look for a quick fix to this situation — nobody’s holding an auctioneer’s gavel over your head, it just feels that way.
Poussin and the Dance is a valiant attempt to break into Poussin’s staunchly academic oeuvre and provide a relatable point of entry, highlighting the exciting elements of revelry and movement despite impenetrable and unemotional rendering.
Anarchist illustrator N.O. Bonzo produces decentralized media in a highly bureaucratic cultural landscape. Their illustrations, murals, and literature emerge in unexpected places, from the streets of Portland, Oregon, to the far ends of Reddit and Twitter, addressing relations of labor and identity in the workplace and on the streets. Growth and care are central themes…
This exhibition explores how images of the human body were used to provoke profound physical and emotional responses in viewers from the 15th through 18th centuries.
With scavenged materials, Amanda Maciel Antunes constructs a motherland.
Where are the directors taking the stage to acknowledge workers’ demands today?
The collaborative handmade paper- and printmaking center at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts publishes new works by Liz Collins and Sarah McEneaney.
There is a debate whether the memory of Little Syria should be seized upon to tell truthful and positive stories about Arabs in the US, or whether any conflation between its history and contemporary politics is inappropriate.
The profile includes works by Egon Schiele, Amedeo Modigliani, Peter Paul Rubens, and a prehistoric Venus of Willendorf figurine.
These horrifying dolls definitely won’t murder you in your sleep.