In an exhibition that consists of mostly small-scale black and white works on paper, viewer engagement almost magically awakens the sleepy room.
With explosions of color and materiality, Cave has his own enigmatic ways to funnel the funk through histories of adversity.
Kruger never seemed to mind that the very world she critiqued co-opted her style and spit it back into advertising.
Yoakum had said repeatedly that the drawings were “spiritual unfoldments,” meaning that faith guided his patterns and passages.
In Quarles’s paintings, boundaries dissolve as the artist grinds up the fixed binaries of Black/white or male/female.
Alice Neel: People Come First yielded a work I had never seen and that I will never unsee.
Part of the John Michael Kohler Art Center, the new institution celebrates the ingenuity of a long undervalued form of art making.
Birds and airplanes soar, horses gallop, purples meet yellows, cerulean blues tango with magenta in geometric patterns, foliate designs crash into damask.
People say you should talk to the dying to reassure them, but words felt too pedestrian for this profound space of transition.
I had questions for Pepper, but I arrived too late.
Interjecting the power poses of Western art history with heroic Black revolutionary figures from the Caribbean, Barontini’s work manages to be seductive yet also ceremonial.
In Soles of My People, Khari Turner channels elements of Midwestern waterways into figures awash with global histories of triumph and struggle.