I fear that the visual culture in which these works were admired is now one of those distant “you had to be there” moments, which are impossible to reconstruct.
It’s hard to identify precedents for Christopher Wilmarth’s sculpture, which uses its banal modern materials purely abstractly.
To manipulate the historical record, I would think, is to abandon the search for truth.
Wiley shows us that a Black man can indeed take the place of Napoleon.
All that I saw were some small and medium-sized paintings, mostly very dark, almost indistinguishable. How could I review this show?
Now and then, I suspect that an honest art writer might feel as if he or she is losing it.
Who would have thought that still lifes would create such a strong reaction?
Kirchner was the anti-Matisse.
Imagine Gustave Courbet’s materialism joined to Max Beckmann’s aggressive color, with a dash of Caspar David Friedrich’s visionary panoramas thrown in.
Set the works of El Greco alongside those of Paul Cézanne, Edgar Degas, or Pablo Picasso, and you can see why they admired and copied him.
I want to resist any temptation to interpret these pictures, to reveal ‘meanings,’ instead of acknowledging the ways they underscore the strangeness of the workaday world.
Because the contemporary art world is such a secular place, there hasn’t been much attention given to Warhol-the-Catholic, until now.