Jasper Johns’s art has been accused of being cool, detached, aloof, and remote; nothing could be farther from the truth.
Explore nearly six decades of work by one of America’s most influential artists in this dynamic career survey.
Jasper Johns breaks down the image of a broken man.
Despite all the changes that Jasper Johns’s art has undergone since the mid-1950s, he has repeatedly returned to the theme of brokenness.
In these works, we are looking at a merging of organization and dissipation, an image of our destiny.
When I visited Johns a few months ago, I saw two works that led me on a search for paintings that did not neatly fit in with his larger oeuvre.
Who gets remembered and how?
From an exhibition about the first superstar curator to Pacific Standard Time’s performance festival, there’s strong work aplenty on the horizon.
He pushes back against the widely accepted view that the artist’s primary goal is formal innovation.
The first painting I saw in 2016 was “Cockman Always Rises Orange” (2015): we can’t say we weren’t warned.
Sometimes an exhibition, propelled by its clarity of purpose and emotional force, will lead you to a point that feels genuinely cathartic. And sometimes an exhibition will hit that mark and then shift into overdrive.
I want to focus on Jasper Johns’s three recent monotypes based on a Vietnam-era photograph of an emotionally shattered soldier, which are included in Jasper Johns: Monotypes at Matthew Marks.