Contrary to the laconic distance experienced among Eisenman’s works, Boadwee’s radiates a frenetic energy that stimulates the senses.
Messy and tender, like a summer fling, Sillman’s drawings embody both the sense of decay and unyielding hunger for life that marks our current times.
An intriguing meditation on the flawed two-party system, the power of Katchadourian’s Monument to the Unelected lies in its ability to confront us with alternative histories.
Morgan Bassichis’s The Odd Years is a visual, poetic diary that is perhaps best read as an endurance piece.
Leading up to the July 1 election — which would allow Vladimir Putin to remain president through 2036 — queer people have been disturbingly targeted.
Irena Haiduk materializes the fictional spaces in Mikhail Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita, imbuing them with her own imagination and creating the alternative realities Bulgakov’s Stalinist government so feared.
In Zineb Sedira’s work, archival material is not dead and past, but is active, suggesting that there is no such thing as “frozen in time.”
French artist Pascal Convert, known for his commitment to cultural heritage, utilized recovered khachkars to create drawings and prints about destroyed Armenian heritage.
When did explicitly naming queerness become a bad thing, preventing people from feeling “welcome” at the museum?
Swinton’s photography exhibition at Aperture, based on Woolf’s iconic novel, Orlando, does not challenge our imperious need to classify bodies, but is definitely one worth seeing.
Boffin explained in a 1991 radio interview that she was trying to put lesbians back on the political agenda, but her risqué performances frequently drew criticism from inside the LGBTQ community.
Schor’s extraordinary paintings and drawings, produced during her time at CalArts in the 1970s, redefine female “wildness.”