Anselm Kiefer draws down the world upon his shoulders in a mood of what can only be described as apocalyptic excess.
A year of truth-telling and electric painting.
In the new exhibition Kiefer Rodin, Anselm Kiefer draws a straight line between himself and the grand old man of French sculpture.
PARIS — Anselm Kiefer’s swashbuckling, material-laden, paint-encrusted canvases and “alchemical” vitrines supposedly transport us into thick intellectual zones of passion for German history and land.
Anselm Kiefer bears a burdensome relationship to the written word.
2015 was the Year of the Whitney.
NORTH ADAMS, Mass. — Nearly eight years ago I wrote a review leading off with the question, “What is it about Anselm Kiefer’s art that inhibits unfettered admiration?”
MIAMI BEACH — In an apparent attempt to show more shiny baubles than all of the art fairs combined, the Bass Museum of Art last week opened One Way: Peter Marino, a perversely perfect complement to its other major exhibition, GOLD.
LONDON — Anselm Kiefer’s retrospective comes at an odd cultural moment.
Memories fade. That’s the one good reason, as far as I can see, to compile an end-of-year list. It’s sometimes startling to retrace what attracted my attention over the course of a year; it is also instructive to determine where such a miscellany of shows fits in with ongoing areas of interest, and which ones, in hindsight, merited the time it took to review them.
Anselm Kiefer has scaled back, way back, from his preposterously overproduced previous solo at Gagosian, but with Kiefer we are always talking about relative degrees of gigantism.
Sophie Fiennes’ new film, Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow, is a record of German-born artist Anselm Kiefer as he transforms the grounds around his sprawling hilltop-studio in Barjac, a town in southern France. The film is as much about Fiennes adulation of the artist as it is about Kiefer.