The sense of isolation, of being alone in the natural world, is pervasive in Frank Walter’s art, and yet one can also sense a muted calm.
Tree of Knowledge, a suite of eight paintings by the beloved artist and spiritualist, is up at David Zwirner Gallery.
This is Yuskavage’s great gift, turning upside down our settled ways of thinking and seeing and, with ease, transforming the vulgar and ridiculous into the sublime.
I have to credit David Zwirner for attempting to include the queer community, but I can’t help but feel conflicted about the whole initiative.
Suzan Frecon insists that art is a wordless experience, that paintings invites us to a plane beyond understanding.
Looking at the upcoming shows from Pace, David Zwirner, Gagosian, and Hauser & Wirth one hardly gets the sense that we are in a moment of acute crisis.
The Nazis had transformed Klee’s beloved land of Goethe and Mozart into an alien and threatening environment.
After surviving the Japanese occupation, the Korean War, and martial law, not to mention arrest, torture, and a narrow escape from a firing squad, Yun Hyong-keun developed a way of painting in which assertion and self-cancellation have become inextricable.
A pair of exhibitions at David Zwirner conveys the photographer’s skill at perceiving arresting visual juxtapositions, revealing a consciousness that is supple and keenly insightful.
Highly analytical, Mitchell was a master of setting off one form or color against another, advancing the idea that a painting can be made of separate but layered and entangled parts.
Mystified as ever by the rise of Josh Smith whose work resembles the efforts of a tipsy van Gogh in an art bar, seeing this show, my inner critic is confronted with mostly disagreeable choices.
I remember David Zwirner Gallery back in the 1990s, before Chelsea, when the New York art world was much smaller and more manageable.