“I am trying to keep the immediacy of my emotional experience while I’m painting.”
Wrestling is less a physical act than a psychological space in Mark Yang’s paintings.
Unless you were already familiar with Bey’s documentary work, the horror he refers to might not be recognizable to you.
The intention behind the seemingly bizarre combination was, according to Attie, “to give visual form to the shared American and Brazilian reality of nationalistic divisions that defines our political present.”
In a world delighted and entertained by displays of material excess, Diane Simpson shows that there is another possibility.
The animal carcass sculptures are gruesome yet their materials — the artist’s own discarded clothing — lend them some gentleness.
Poussin and the Dance is a valiant attempt to break into Poussin’s staunchly academic oeuvre and provide a relatable point of entry, highlighting the exciting elements of revelry and movement despite impenetrable and unemotional rendering.
N.O. Bonzo’s illustrations, murals, and literature build on radical art traditions, addressing relations of labor and identity in local communities and protest movements.
With scavenged materials, Amanda Maciel Antunes constructs a motherland.
For Calderón Ruiz’s first exhibition, artists Esteban Ramón Pérez and Jaime Muñoz plumb the depths of Chicanx identity.
Council often uses humor as a political tool to expose systems of power and inequality in a society in which even death carries a high price tag.
An exhibition at the San Francisco Opera House pairs the work of incarcerated artists with Beethoven’s story of unjust imprisonment.