One thing that comes across in the drawings of Rackstraw Downes is the austere, almost monastic life he has lived in order to make art.
In Danica Lundy’s paintings it seems that I can see two places at once, inside and outside my body.
With her portraits, Jenny Dubnau seems to be drawn to that psychologically charged instant of the momentary encounter.
The subject running through all of Tabata’s works is the meeting place of one’s inner and outer life, of psychic states and outward responsibility, and the different frictions that can arise in that gap.
One key to understanding Diao’s art is that he has long worked with a reductive geometric vocabulary, while always pushing back against any of postmodernism’s reductive narratives.
Despite all we know about the environment and what we are doing to it, Kim arrives at another, less palatable realization: As much as we call the Earth our home, we are strangers here.
Bischoff and Burckhardt questioned assumptions and conventions regarding abstraction and how we apprehend it. In fact, their questioning is what makes this a fruitful pairing.
While I have seen Goodman’s self-portraits numerous times, the unlikely combination of raw pathos and tenderness always stops me in my tracks.
The visual stutter of Mary Lum’s artwork invites us to enunciate the staccato repetitions of sounds we hear and see when we walk through the city.
Being bowled over by an unknown artist’s first one-person show does not happen often but when it does, it renews your faith that the art world is not just about buzz and hype.
In his new works, Gober pulled me into another world, one that was both illuminated by natural light and full of cold shadows.
Alexi Worth’s paintings demand a double take that allows viewers to look closer and begin dissembling the painting in order to understand what is being looked at.