On this week’s art crime blotter: a cow sculpture gets tipped, Warhol prints get ripped, and Lil Wayne’s collection gets raided.
News broke last month that celebrity Lindsay Lohan would soon be getting her own “docu-series,” aka reality TV show, on OWN, the Oprah Network. Now that she’s out of court-ordered rehab, she’ll sit down with Oprah for an exclusive interview about all things LiLo, airing August 18th; her reality TV show will begin in 2014. Lindsay is the American celebrity “bad girl,” and no matter how many times she fucks up, she always does it well.
The dust has now begun to settle in the wake of the release of Spring Breakers, director Harmony Korine’s highly anticipated and now much-debated crime drama about four college co-eds who go on a crime spree during a holiday in Florida. By now, even if you haven’t seen the movie, you probably know a few things about it.
I find it exciting when fine art fuses with fashion, and Louis Vuitton’s recently announced collaboration with Yayoi Kusama may produce some spectacularly spotted goods. Interestingly, this pairing coincided with former LV collaborator Takashi Murakami’s newly unveiled installation at Qatar Museums Authority, which witnessed a departure from the Japanese artist’s signature Superflat subject matter.
What happens when the suave gentlemen of the New York-based womenswear and accessories brand Proenza Schouler cross paths with the provocative trash-humping auteur Harmony Korine? This shit, apparently.
Dedicated to legendary filmmaker Jonas Mekas, Korine’s “Curb Dancing” (2011) video feels like opening a trunk in a strange attic to discover an unfinished short story and a dusty music box.
Harmony Korine is known chiefly as a filmmaker, best for writing Larry Clark’s 1995 cult hit Kids. His most recent movie, Trash Humpers, was variously decried and praised for its unabashedly gritty commitment to a certain kind of disturbing, voyeuristic realism. Bill Saylor is an artist who works in a surreal vein of the American visual vernacular remixing ideas of the great West, motorcycle culture and 60s psychadelia into a seething new whole. The pair have collaborated on a recently released zine, called Ho Bags, that springs from a similar milieu: messy, dirty, smudged drawings present the psychotic essence of the unrealized and over-idealized American Dream.
Tired of all the chatter about Nada being the next big thing, I decided to see if this year’s display would be everything the PR and press promised it would be.
Honestly, it was. Even if the solo artist booths in Richelieu hall were generally a little dull and pedantic, the Napoleon hall was filled with a diverse range of work from galleries that obviously loved what they do.
I found the painting at Nada particularly strong and it was nice to see a love of color in so many that ranged from large-ish-scale abstractions to small intimate pieces with rich surfaces. The tread for most of these paintings is that they tended to be done in a gestural mode of representation veering towards the abstract, but I can live with that.