CHICAGO — There’s always some sort of surprise awaiting you in the basement. Consent is not necessary here; you are allowed to freely descend the stairs of Woman Made Gallery, where two solo exhibitions by Brenna Conley-Fonda and Robin Hustle await. Both of these artists implicate their bodies and bodily experiences in their works, asking questions about how consent operates and, more importantly, who has control over the laws surrounding bodies.
Gender browser provides a “multiscale view of gender representation across multiple domains of scholarly publishing.” The picture ain’t pretty.
CHICAGO — This week’s selfie series is curated entirely from submissions that you, dear internet reader, sent to me through the selfies [at] hyperallergic [dot] com email address. I was wondering if you’d accept the challenge to write, and indeed, you did. Thank you. You are fearless.
Apparently we do. From an art critic, of all people.
In last week’s Village Voice, critic Christian Viveros-Faune wrote what would have been a great review of the current Llyn Foulkes retrospective at the New Museum — if he hadn’t started the piece with an inexplicable three-paragraph screed against outsider art.
LOS ANGELES — Rudolph Schindler was ahead of his time. A protégé of Frank Lloyd Wright and an early adapter of modernism, he introduced a revolutionary form of architecture to Los Angeles in the early 1900s.
Unfortunately, at the time, no one cared.
Many people love art for its power to transport, whether through a painting that brings us to the banks of the Seine in 19th-century France or an installation that immerses us in a fanciful and imagined alternate world. But what about when art refuses to carry us away, offering instead only blank space, an empty frame staring back at us?
Why isn’t everyone laughing?
How are artists who have been systematically denied fair wages and access to basic services like healthcare and unemployment protections gaining access to those things today?