One thing seems pretty clear about both groups: they separated themselves from mainstream culture, including the art world. This is practically unheard of today.
Jordan Belson wanted the viewer to see only what was in front of his or her face — to scrutinize his paintings from up close.
For DeFeo, Surrealism was not a technique, but a state of seeing and experiencing everyday life.
Delirious at the Met Breuer is an exhibition filled with beautiful but comparatively polite works by habitually transgressive artists.
Shortly after coming to San Francisco, Conner formed what he christened the “Rat Bastard Society.” Conner told the curator Peter Boswell that the name was fitting for “people who were making things with the detritus of society, who themselves were ostracized or alienated from full involvement with society.”
It is disheartening to see this 50th anniversary of the seminal exhibition Funk pass by without so much as a nod from the art world.
The Whitney Museum’s Dreamlands gathers a century of immersive moving image art, cutting across time and technology.
Throughout his life, Bruce Conner believed that even if you could not beat them, that didn’t mean you had to join them.
To say that Conner was an outsider who also wanted to belong is to barely scratch the surface of his paradoxical persona.
A mix of blue-chip names and energetic younger artists on the Lower East Side is further evidence of the increasingly blurred boundaries among Manhattan’s art districts.
PARIS — Though almost entirely lacking a female presence — artist Jay DeFeo and poet Diane Di Prima being the exceptions that prove the rule — the Centre Pompidou’s airily laid out retrospective of the Beat Generation is otherwise flawless.
Working in painting, drawing, assemblage, film, photography, photograms, performance, collage, and printmaking, Bruce Conner (1933–2008) made more discrete bodies of work across more mediums than any other postwar artist.