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.
Renoir: The Body, The Senses makes some attempts, vain in my opinion, to present Renoir as a politically progressive artist, even a closet feminist.
Romantic love for Lisa Yuskavage is something we can deride as unrealistic, yet its sweet, naïve simplicity reminds us of a youthful ideal.
I remember David Zwirner Gallery back in the 1990s, before Chelsea, when the New York art world was much smaller and more manageable.
WALTHAM, Mass. — At root, Lisa Yuskavage is a portraitist. And while detractors still summon up the provocations in her work, focusing on the perkily carved breasts and openly displayed genitalia, those aspects are only a single, thin veneer atop the subjects she paints.
Lisa Yuskavage and Nicola Tyson have solo shows three blocks from another in Manhattan’s Chelsea art-borhood. Both focus on the appearance of the figure and how it responds to or appears in certain situations, both real and imagined. The results could not be more different.
This week is a grab bag of reviews, video clips, profiles and historic finds.