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In the catalogue essay that accompanies the exhibition, Barry Nemett discusses Kevin Kearney’s work:
No one eats Cézanne’s apples. No one swims in Turner’s seas. And no one sits in Kevin Kearney’s seats. The people who live in Kearney’s well-appointed, well-ordered homes proudly proclaim their station. These canvases represent an American, twenty-first-century version of seventeenth-century Dutch painting. Vermeer, not Van Gogh. Embroidered slippers, not wooden clogs. Ingres’ fine gowns, not Chardin’s peasant aprons.
The ten-foot tour de force, Red Wall with Wind, the viewer passes through the house into a picture-perfect day. The spanking-new hinges on windows and doors are small but front and center. Kearney, a builder, appreciates the importance of hardware. He’s also a storyteller, so he appreciates hardware’s role in grounding his tales with telling details. The view looks through the Mondrian-like geometry of doors and windows to a body of water that’s never swirled to a J. M. W. Turner storm. Interiors/exteriors, Kearney’s still, timeless paintings move us back and forth.
In Kevin Kearney’s work, there are everyday chairs from which the viewer sees the world realistically. And there are magical thrones from which the viewer imagines haunting creatures on patterned carpets floating through cerulean skies above cerulean seas. His red walls and surreal ceruleans look tranquil enough, but beware, any minute, a tsunami could erupt.
Red Walls, Surreal Ceruleans, and a Tsunami, paintings by Kevin Kearney is on view at the Ice House Gallery (405 East D Street, Petaluma, CA 94952) through September 21, 2019.
“Black infants in America are now more than twice as likely to die as white infants—11.3 per 1,000 black babies, compared with 4.9 per 1,000 white babies, according to the most recent government data—a racial disparity that is actually wider than in 1850, 15 years before the end of slavery, when most black women were…
In 1850, when Dr. Robert W. Gibbes commissioned J. T. Zealy to make daguerreotypes of persons held in slavery in and around Columbia, South Carolina, for Harvard Professor Louis Agassiz to use in support of his theory that African people were a separate species, daguerreotypes were at the height of fashion.
The show, which honors the 50th anniversary of an exhibition history once ignored, continues a series of projects documenting Wilmington’s contemporary art scene.
he ownership of images has a long and nuanced legal history, which has evolved dramatically in recent years as cultural standards and photographic technologies have rapidly advanced
Renty and his daughter Delia. Renty was an enslaved African, kidnapped from the Congo, sold and forced into slave labor on the South Carolina plantation of B.F. Taylor
Two K-12 art teachers will each receive a $1,000 cash gift and an additional $500 to put toward classroom art supplies. Nominations are due October 31.
As a scholar of African American history and photography whose work has focused on the status of violent images in museums and archives, I fully support the validity of Ms. Tamara Lanier’s claim and the amicus brief.
The daguerreotypes of Renty Taylor, Delia, Drana, Alfred, Jack, George Fassena, and Jem remained in an unused storage cabinet until 1975, when it was discovered by an employee of the Peabody Museum.
I am writing in support of the amicus curiae brief submitted by Professor Ariella Aïsha Azoulay of Brown University for the full restitution of the daguerreotypes of Renty Taylor and his daughter Delia, currently held by Harvard University, to their familial descendant, Tamara Lanier.