The Chinese painter learned the state-sanctioned style of Socialist Realism and then elected to unlearn it in order to reinvent himself.
Encountering Pierre’s dynamic, intensely colorful oil paintings, sculptures, and works on paper is like entering a spiritually charged, alternate world.
Despite all we know about the environment and what we are doing to it, Kim arrives at another, less palatable realization: As much as we call the Earth our home, we are strangers here.
Perhaps these paintings are what it feels like for the artist to be in a state of not being harried, anxious or in deep existentialist dread.
Fred Tomaselli’s incorporation of printed news in his paintings long before the pandemic now seems downright prescient.
Josiah McElheny’s glass vessels concentrate the ethereal and boundless into the finite and physical.
Ethiopian artist Elias Sime makes wall sculptures from castoff computer parts that evoke the toxic dumping of these materials around the world.
In the age of 40-character electronic announcements and Instagram, Kathy Butterly has slowed looking down to a snail’s pace.
Yun-fei Ji composes a seamless synthesis of Western and Eastern art in the service of his subject: the government-sanctioned erasure of entire villages in the name of progress.
Larsen’s dry, matter-of-fact humor and eye for the absurd are everywhere in her paintings.
Tabaimo is not interested in dumbing down her references to Japanese culture, or in turning her art into entertainment for a Western audience.
Byron Kim’s diaristic texts offer a bird’s-eye view of his life — the youth soccer games, the dinner parties, the glum and the optimistic moods, the children going away to college.