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Hyperallergic’s horoscopes offer astrological advice for artists and art types, in art terms, every month.
Cancer (June 22–July 22)
There’s big money to be made from being a famous artist’s lookalike, Cancer. Vincent van Gogh is the most obvious example, but we believe there’s a major market of untapped capital in professional artist dress-up. Who wouldn’t hire a cantankerous Caravaggio double to come speak to a high school assembly about the dangers of bullying and alcohol abuse, a Frida Kahlo impersonator to cheer up teenage patients at a children’s hospital, a dead ringer for Georgia O’Keeffe to put in an appearance at a flower market, or even a Jeff Koons double to spout profound-sounding platitudes at a hedge fund’s general meeting? It’s time to figure out which art historical great you can convincingly ape, because being yourself isn’t going to work out very well this month.
Leo (July 23–August 22)
So much of today’s purpose-built underwater art is incredibly tacky, Leo, but one of the happy consequences of climate change will be that some of the world’s best museums will soon only be accessible to scuba divers and snorkelers. Imagine splashing about in the lobby of the Pérez Art Museum Miami, diving into the entrance of the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boson, or jet-skiing through the front door of the Louvre Abu Dhabi. Sometimes — like this month — you have to focus on the long-term benefits of lousy situations.
Virgo (August 23–September 23)
Now that the movement to get magic designated an official art form by the United States Congress is gaining momentum, we’re moving on to the next campaign to expand the frontiers of aesthetic exploration: getting Magic: The Gathering
Libra (September 24–October 23)
YouTube is full of super cuts, but only a select few are artworks. What elevates an exhaustive montage of related pop culture moments to the status of fine art? Is it the fact that they were made by Cory Arcangel or Christian Marclay? Not really. Is it because they’re presented in an art context? Maybe. But it’s also about coming up with just the right high-low balance. You’ve been getting a little high-minded of late, Libra, and you’re at risk of alienating those closest to you. Maybe it’s time you spliced dozens of funny cat videos together?
Scorpio (October 24–November 22)
“Riiiiiiichter!” “Riiiiiiiichter!” “Warhol!” “Warhol!” “Weeeeeeiner!” “Weeeeeeiner!” Is that the sound of a Christie’s evening sale crashing and burning? No, it’s Louise Lawler’s hilarious sound art piece “Birdcalls” (1972/1981). Pro tip, Scorpio: considering how ubiquitous they are, there’s really a striking shortage of birdcall art, and who better to remedy that shortage than you? When you’ve become a world famous birdcall artist and they ask you where the idea first came from, tell them a little birdie told you — nobody takes people who read horoscopes seriously.
Sagittarius (November 23–December 21)
Are you joining the art world’s annual summer migration to the Hamptons, Sagittarius? There’s certainly plenty to see, between the splashy museum shows, pop-up exhibitions, and beachy art fairs, to say nothing of the parties and galas. But amid all the glitz, glamor, and gaudy beachball art in your immediate future, there’s an ominous shadow looming over your star chart that seems poised to strike around the end of the month. We don’t want to contribute to shark attack hysteria, but try to stay out of the water until August.
Capricorn (December 22–January 20)
Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s “Floating Piers” had the potential to be exactly the type of magical, large-scale artwork that brings a transcendent experience to the masses. But ultimately, Capricorn, the wholesomeness and success of Christo’s aesthetic ends rest on the purity of the enormous means he used to achieve them, and the fact that the project was made possible thanks to the support of a major arms manufacturer will ultimately sink the “Floating Piers.” This month, if your plans don’t turn out the way you’d hoped, it’ll probably be because you betrayed your own principles somewhere along the way.
Aquarius (January 21–February 19)
You know, Aquarius, a movement as vital and spontaneous as Fluxus could never happen nowadays. People would constantly be on their mobile devices, sabotaging the immediacy of the art by taking videos and selfies, monitoring related hashtags, and LOLing at the posts of other people at the exact same event. What do you think? J/k! The first two sentences of this horoscope are a conceptual art piece called “Trolling the Olds” (2016), and if you found yourself agreeing with those sentiments, you really need to lighten up.
Pisces (February 20–March 20)
Mixing your art life and your love life can be dangerous — just look at Camille Claudel and Auguste Rodin. (Too soon? OK, then look at Jeff Koons and Ilona Staller.) However you cut it, Pisces, it’s a risky proposition. That said, your astrological forecast suggests things are going to be so overwhelmingly positive in your professional sphere this month that those good vibes might blossom into a full-fledged workplace romance. This is especially relevant for artist’s assistants who’ve been putting in a lot of extra hours or, conversely, artists with one really hardworking assistant. Just promise us you won’t sleep with your dealer — that is never a good idea, no matter how favorable the star alignment.
Aries (March 21–April 20)
Have you ever gotten right up close to one of Sherrie Levine‘s bronze re-creations of a historical work by a famous male artist? Really right up against their perfectly polished surfaces? They’re as sharp and unassailable as the politics of feminist art historical appropriation that informed them. You will face much hardship this month, Aries, but as long as you remain steadfast and present a pristine, Levinesque exterior, you’ll be just fine.
Taurus (April 21–May 21)
If finances and logistics were of no concern, Taurus, what giant sculpture would you wrap in a Carsten Höller slide? His upgrade of Anish Kapoor’s London tower opened the day after the Brexit vote, bringing a touch of brightness to a dreary morning, but we see this as the beginning of a worldwide slide art revolution. The Washington Monument, the Statue of Liberty, the St. Louis Arch, the Atomium in Brussels, the African Renaissance Monument in Dakar — there is nary a modern monument that couldn’t benefit from having a slide slithering down it. It’s a surefire way to bring some verve back to something that’s become kind of routine and unexciting, which is exactly the challenge you’ll be faced with this month.
Gemini (May 22–June 21)
Every group or collective of artists faces hardships and threats to its cohesion, Gemini, from the hard-drinking Parisian avant-garde of the early 20th century to … the hard-drinking New York avant-garde of the postwar years. Your group of friends, colleagues, and cohorts will be tested this month and risks descending into internal warfare, but you have to be the bigger person. Don’t stoop to dirty tactics, petty bickering, and ugly name calling. Keep your cool and find a new group of friends.
While staying as a house guest, a naked Le Corbusier defiled Gray’s minimalist, color-blocked walls that were only restored in 2015.
Keep your friends close and your bad art friends closer.
Hear from Holly Jean Buck, Carolina Caycedo and David de Rozas, Simon Denny, Elizabeth Hoover, Renee Kemp-Rotan, Joseph Kunkel, and more at this free public event.
In his new book, Tyler Green argues that landscape was Emerson’s method of glorifying territories shaped and bordered by white men.
“The 52-hertz Whale,” which sings a song at a frequency no other whale uses, is a social media phenomenon. But this film shows that the phenomenon says more about us than whales.
EFA Open Studios offers a portal into the creative habitats of over 65 artists working in Manhattan’s longest-running studio program, including Dannielle Tegeder, Wafaa Bilal, Cui Fei, and Anina Major.
The unvarnished photographs celebrate the lives, beauty, and resilience of an oppressed group at Chile’s social peripheries in the 1980s, and the series was recently acquired by MOCA in Los Angeles.
51 international publishers and galleries showcase their latest editions in prints and artists’ books at this free public fair, which is fully online this year.
The University of Virginia researchers wrote that the data “provides compelling evidence that these symbols are associated with hate.”
We are waiting for spectacle and when the quotidian, yet incongruous actions occur I wonder whether there is any real payoff coming.
Tanega’s approach to mark-making comes across as stream of consciousness, as if she’s engaged in a conversation with herself.