The late New Yorker art critic admonished the stringent “aesthetes” of his time for their blatant dismissal of the social and political contexts in which art emerges.
Oh, to Be a Painter! collects nine of Woolf’s published art reviews, catalogue essays, and experimental texts from 1920 to 1936.
Making a place where critical thinking was at the center of everything was bound to be an uphill battle.
What happens if we take up both Corinne Robins’s recognition of the necessity of critique and Adrian Piper’s vision of generative collaboration?
Even if we believe in certain unspoken art criticism criteria that are involuntary but formed and informed by extended looking, nothing can be proved. We can always be wrong.
My biggest regret is that I tried a little too hard to fit in when I first began writing art reviews in 1977.
How did I learn to judge between one work and another? By looking and reading and looking and reading and looking.
The veteran art critic has played a formidable role in helping to shape the world’s perception of contemporary art in Los Angeles.
Art critic Seph Rodney considers on his reviews during the last few years and what he may have gotten wrong and why.
The words of John Yau continue to be read by those who want to know what is going on in contemporary art in New York and beyond.
Schjeldhal moves quickly to characterize an artist, like a cat pouncing on his prey.
In the 1980s I religiously read Indiana’s weekly, polemical Voice dispatches in which he described the ills of US society from the point of view of an energetic, radical, gay critic absent art bona fides.