Art is often an act of venturing into the unknown, of starting something without knowing the outcome.
From February 1-29, NYC’s apexart will accept submissions for its Franchise Program, welcoming proposals from anyone, anywhere.
From a certain angle, the premise seems almost cruel: invite prisoners on death row to design their own memorials — ways for them to be remembered after they’ve been executed.
From October 1–31, NYC’s apexart will accept submissions for its Unsolicited Proposal Program, which welcomes exhibition proposals from anyone, anywhere.
This is going to sound absurd, but: who watches the watchers of the watchmen?
From 18th-century dollhouses and contemporary architectural maquettes to ancient Egyptian reliquary artifacts, taking pleasure from peering down on diminutive worlds seems to be a universal human delight.
Sound maps of rivers and songs for cicadas are two examples of a new kind of music inspired by 19th-century German physicist Hermann von Helmholtz.
On February 1, 2015, apexart opens its 8th annual Franchise Program, a call for exhibition proposals from anyone to be presented anywhere except New York City. No prior curatorial experience necessary.
apexart is thrilled to announce the 3 winning exhibitions of its 18th Unsolicited Proposal Program.
On October 1, apexart opens its NYC Unsolicited Proposal Program, a call for exhibition proposals from anyone, anywhere, with any background.
“The hitherto impossible in photography is our specialty,” was the motto of early 20th-century photographer George R. Lawrence’s Chicago studio. Among Lawrence’s great experiments was the use of kites for aerial photography.
“Billions and billions of stars.” Carl Sagan’s awestruck if indeterminate census of the universe became a comic catchphrase in the wake of his 1980s PBS series Cosmos. Johnny Carson would intone the line, exaggerating the astrophysicist’s sing-songish repetition of billions and we’d laugh. Not because Sagan’s estimate was so low (estimates currently put the figure at between 10 sextillion and 1 septillion), but in part because the mere idea of billions of suns and consequent solar systems like our own is a patently impossible notion to comprehend. Contemplating god (as a bearded chap on a throne or some vague organizing “force) is water off a duck compared to the mental rearrangements required by the proposition that everyone alive and who has ever lived amounts to nothing more than a mote of cosmic dust. Now that’s hilarious.