Andrei Konchalovsky’s film depicts an artist full of ambition, paranoia, loathing, and regret.
In his deftly hewn new novel, The Silence, DeLillo disconnects us from our devices, wreaking havoc on our human fragility.
An unattributed work can catch you off guard, forcing you to drop your defenses and simply look.
Depraved, a soulful indie take on Frankenstein, proves the perennial relevance of Mary Shelley’s monstrous creation.
Osman’s suite of new sculptures might look like buildings, or the things within buildings: furniture, toyish tools, and strange-ified objects of interior design.
Sharon Butler’s new paintings based on iPad drawings are telling you, quite frankly, that surfaces matter.
Or did it?
The images that foreshadow the turmoil of the Cuban Revolution jar you back to the precariousness of our times.
A slew of new books rethinks the Renaissance in general and Leonardo da Vinci in particular.
The soldiers are killed, and the jesters change their names.
Fritz Böhm’s debut film Wildling is cloaked in mystery, dark and dank, occasionally bloody, sometimes shocking, and fantastically folkloric.
Didier William’s slithery forms surge forth and recede within a sphere of visual gravitas — heaving, throbbing, breathing.