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Aquarius (January 21–February 19)
Imagine, Aquarius, that you’re the director of a major US museum and you find out that President Trump wants a work from your collection to hang in the Oval Office. Would you quietly loan the work and hope nobody notices? Would you put the decision to your board? Your staff? Your entire community? Would you flat out refuse? You need to cut down on toxic relationships this month, so, astrologically speaking, you should tell Trump to get bent.
Pisces (February 20–March 20)
Now is not the time to invest your hard-earned savings in the ostensibly stable Old Masters market, Pisces. We say this partly because the stars are uncharacteristically specific on this point — now is not a good time to be making major investments — but also because that market has been wracked by a still-growing forgery scandal. That surprisingly affordable Parmigianino could just as easily turn out to be a Parmigiani-not.
Aries (March 21–April 20)
Have you seen Marilyn Minter’s retrospective Pretty/Dirty, Aries? Your romantic outlook for February is weirdly similar to that popping exhibition, with periods of intense desire, pleasure, and sensuality juxtaposed with stretches of great loneliness and pain. Try to stay as emotionally flexible and fluid as you can for the next four weeks; being a stick in the glittery goo will only get you hurt.
Taurus (April 21–May 21)
Don’t let Bob Ross make excuses for you, Taurus. Yes, the beloved public television painting instructor often told his pupils that “there are no mistakes, only happy accidents,” but that was a sweet, sweet lie. You’ve been getting sloppy lately, and if you make any mistakes in the current, hyper-competitive cycle, you will pay dearly.
Gemini (May 22–June 21)
There are so many artist-designed anti-Trump posters and banners. There’s the whole series Shepard Fairey designed. There’s Anish Kapoor’s Joseph Beuys remix. There are all sorts of works by Barbara Kruger, the Guerrilla Girls, and others that could easily be adapted for the anti-Trump cause. But this month you will achieve the most success when you abandon existing models and strike out on your own. We like your original anti-Trump art the best, Gemini.
Cancer (June 22–July 22)
We’re going to give you some advice that we’ve been dying to give to the Bronx Museum, Cancer. You’ve been in this relationship for a couple of years now, and you’re not really getting much out of it. You’ve bent over backwards, putting lots of time, money, and emotional investment into promoting exchange, without getting anything in return. Meanwhile, your friends and colleagues are worried you’re getting played for a fool. It’s time to help yourself and walk away.
Leo (July 23–August 22)
Now is not the time to take on a big project, Leo. Whatever offers of major exhibitions, large-scale commissions, or the like come your way this month, try to delay final decisions until March. In the interim, focus on the seemingly peripheral — updating your website, getting your studio assistants up to speed, testing out new (and old) materials, and the like. It’s unsexy work, but it will help you in the long run.
Virgo (August 23–September 23)
Everyone should see the Noguchi Museum’s new exhibition, Self-Interned, Virgo, but it seems especially apt given your astrological forecast for February. As you respond to the current political cataclysms in your work and in your personal life, you can draw great inspiration from Isamu Noguchi’s decision to join the displaced Japanese American citizens who were held at the Poston War Relocation Center in hopes that he could make their conditions more humane. Sometimes the best way to respond to a problem is to go to the place where it is playing out most openly.
Libra (September 24–October 23)
Our relentless monitoring of museums’ acquisitions has us wondering: what’s the next hot frontier in institutional collecting? The Museum of Modern Art is going all in for Latin American geometric abstraction, it seems, while the Detroit Institute of Arts is making work by contemporary African American artists a priority, and the Smithsonian’s American Art Museum seems to be staking a claim to the folk art canon. Will a major institution try to preserve in situ street art? Ice sculpture? Conceptual skywriting? Some things were meant to be ephemeral, Libra; you’ve got to learn to let go.
Scorpio (October 24–November 22)
Oh wow, did you see who’s curating the public sector at Art Basel Miami Beach this year? And did you see which galleries will be exhibiting at the Armory Show next month? Crazy, right? And did you notice all the galleries that will be participating in their first Frieze New York fair come May? Unbelievable! At times like these, Scorpio, the pointlessness of what passes for “news” in the art world becomes all the more glaring. Stay focused on what really matters this month.
Sagittarius (November 23–December 21)
How tolerant of cold temperatures are the members of your immediate family, Sagittarius? No, we’re not about to suggest a family retreat to the Antarctica Biennale (although … ), it’s just that your astrological forecast is weirdly specific this month: you should go on an outdoor excursion with members of your immediate family. That said, it seems a bit chilly for a trip to Grounds for Sculpture, but maybe you could compromise and pay a visit to Spencer Finch’s miniature forest (and then go for Shake Shack).
Capricorn (December 22–January 20)
What will you do if President Trump actually tries to abolish the National Endowment for the Arts, Capricorn? Chain yourself to the White House fence? That’s not very creative. Begin a 24/7/365 durational performance as Trump’s benevolent twin, Ronald Trump? Definitely creative, but too easy to tune out. Stage a national tour of pop-up exhibitions and performances at every Trump property in the US? Now we’re talking. It’s time to get avant-garde with our acts of civil disobedience.
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.