Much attention is being focused on the paintings of the late Japanese Gutai painter and Tendai monk, Kazuo Shiraga (1924–2008), who for years has been collected throughout Europe, even as he has been virtually ignored in the United States.
In a recent interview, the Indonesian artist Entang Wiharso proclaimed: “I depict the condition of humans who are often divided by complex, multilayered political, ethnic, racial, and religious systems: they co-exist yet their communication is limited and indirect.”
I discovered the work of Ha Chonghyun in 2000 at an exhibition mounted at the Gwangju City Art Museum, curated by the art critic Yoon Jin Sup.
There are undoubtedly many stories attributed to the founding of ZERO in post-World War II Germany, as there were with the inception of Dada during the earlier Great War that raged outside the Swiss borders from 1914–18.
“You have to get close, then move back, slowly,” I tried to explain to a motley group of graduate students whom I asked to see the recent paintings and drawings by Cornelia Thomsen at the uptown Leslie Feely gallery.
In 1965, the French-born, Polish painter Roman Opalka came to an important decision. While sitting at the Café Bristol in Warsaw waiting for his wife to arrive, the idea occurred that he should begin to paint numbers that would progress sequentially from one canvas to the next for the duration of his life.
For many, Pierre Soulages was regarded as the Parisian counterpart to the abstract expressionists in New York. The only problem was that the French audience, in general, appeared less interested in his work than the Americans.
In recent years, the connections between architecture, art, and design have, in many cases, become inextricably bound to another in a kind of symbiotic relationship. For some observers, architecture appears relevant to the twenty-first century only when it emulates an abstract sculptural presence.
This show at James Fuentes, instigated by various artists associated with an exhibition in 1980 called The Real Estate Show, is a reconstruction of a spontaneous action that began in late 1979.
The exhibition Italian Futurism, 1909–1944: Reconstructing the Universe, presently on view at the Guggenheim, is the first important museum survey of work from this seminal utopian Modernist movement seen in New York since Futurism at the Museum of Modern Art in 1961.
Relatively speaking, Keith Sonnier’s interest in the connections between nature and technology has a long history. His early minimal-style, classical neons from 1968–1970 have a highly reductive, classical, nearly stoic appearance. The more recent formulations, though extravagantly tactile, were less evident in the beginning.