Jónsi hasn’t just utilized natural materials but has, one senses, collaborated with them, allowing them their own innate power.
While hardly about the pandemic, or any of the other crises so afflicting us, all are invoked in this exhibition, which is also often tender and profoundly soulful.
Many of the works in Iðavöllur are big and chock-full of issues and socially engaged ideas, like so much art elsewhere.
The Icelandic artist fashions sculptures and wall works from the primary substance of her volcanic and volatile homeland.
There are many in Kentucky who wish to get beyond the Breonna Taylor tragedy, but Amy Sherald’s magnetic portrait of Taylor insists otherwise.
Pensato favored pop culture flotsam marred by the real world, which she transmuted into adventurous artworks dealing with raw, real world concerns.
It’s hard to imagine how three minutes of Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro repeated for 12 hours can be so riveting.
Fred Tomaselli’s incorporation of printed news in his paintings long before the pandemic now seems downright prescient.
Fear — so pervasive these days — has long been an important theme for Neuenschwander.
This thoughtfully curated exhibition is evidence that much compelling and adventurous art is indeed being produced all around the country.
With their exhibition, Look, it’s daybreak, dear, time to sing, Richard Ibghy and Marilou Lemmens investigate the complex, cross-species relationship between birds and humans.
It is not surprising that a music star would have an exhibition at an art gallery. What is surprising is how compelling and meaningful this show, by Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi, really is.