In Josef Albers: Midnight and Noon, Nicholas Fox Weber, Elaine de Kooning, Colm Tóibín, and more discuss the artist’s seminal Homage to the Square series.
Al Taylor’s painting practice — an undertaking whose success was tied to its degree of artlessness — seemed to court, if not the “death of painting,” then a refutation of the traditional hierarchy that places painting at the top of the heap.
Fred Sandback could be considered, and not without reason, as the purest and most unsparingly geometric member of a rigorously formalist generation, a cohort that included Donald Judd, Dan Flavin, Richard Serra, and Sol LeWitt.
On this week’s art crime blotter: a cycling-themed cow statue goes missing, one art dealer sues another over a Jeff Koons sculpture, and a former guard takes the Metropolitan Museum to court.
Isa Genzken is not a Dadaist.
To create translucent sculptures in the colossal proportions he desired, De Wain Valentine needed a new type of plastic.
Join me as I wander the streets of Chelsea and bring you the first in an as-yet-only-theoretical series of gallery pen reviews.
The turning point for Suzan Frecon happened in 1989, when she saw the exhibition of the Swedish artist and mystic, Hilma af Klint: Secret Pictures at PS1.
LONDON — Back in the 1970s, England, the home of such pioneering researchers in the outsider art field as Roger Cardinal and the late Victor Musgrave, played a significant role in calling attention to a subfield which, at that time, was still emerging within the art world’s international terrain.
I have been waiting to see a large selection of James Bishop’s paintings since the mid-1970s, ever since reading John Ashbery’s appraisal in a secondhand copy of Art News Annual 1966.
For his solo show at Pace Gallery in 2010, Thomas Nozkowski made the decision to hang his work in pairs, with an oil painting on canvas board or panel alongside a related work on paper, setting up a contrast between density and light, slow and fast, rumination and riff. This comparison came to mind repeatedly while wandering through Paintings on Paper, the effervescent summer exhibition at David Zwirner.
Coming from the deserts of New Mexico, where he lives in Sante Fe, Doug Wheeler’s visits to New York, seldom and auspicious, are greeted with the sort of awe usually reserved for mystics.