In the 1982 television special “I Love Liberty,” Robin Williams channels the voice of the American flag.
Two years ago, at a Cildo Meireles retrospective in Madrid, I sat on a wooden dock that overlooked a paper sea and a vast, blue plaster sky.
“Anything becomes interesting if you look at it long enough,” Gustave Flaubert wrote in a letter.
“Today may be the last day of your juvenile delinquency, but it should also be the first day of your new adult disobedience,” John Waters recently told the 2015 graduating class of Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) in his commencement speech.
In his studio, an artist stenciled unicorns to disco music, while upstairs a poetry reading was taking place in the same room as a makeshift tattoo parlor.
I first saw a video of Maya Plisetskaya dancing when she died early last month.
This video allegedly records Lucian Freud’s last day of painting: July 3, 2011, roughly two weeks before he died at age 88.
After family dinners, Louise Bourgeois says of her childhood, everyone “was supposed to bring some kind of entertainment.” Dinner entertainment clearly came with a sense of obligation. It wasn’t, exactly, fun.
The notion of the moderno, or modern, in Latin America is more associated with a mindset than a particular style.
Apparently the price paid for Picasso’s “Women of Algiers” (1955) on Monday is not the most obscene thing about it.
Three years ago, Kansas City–based artist A. Bitterman proposed moving a vacant, dilapidated house, located in one of the city’s poorest neighborhoods, to the lawn of the Nelson-Atkins Museum.
Like her paintings, Alice Neel’s watercolors and drawings, now showing at David Zwirner, wobble and tilt out of proportion, only more so.