Abramović’s interests lie more with perpetuating herself as a product than with what she actually expresses through her art.
The emergence of spiritual circles online in the face of COVID-19 strikes me as the opposite of viral — a place to be still in the face of viral turbulence on the streets and in the air, and viral turbulence on social media and the broader internet.
Artistic allusions to rising waters can be found across the Venice Biennale this year, and they strike home with a particular power given the ongoing destruction of the natural world.
An unholy alliance has formed between Catholics protesting debunked conspiracy theories linking Abramović to Satanism, and the Polish dance community, who have been complaining of mistreatment and unfair wages leading up to her career retrospective The Cleaner.
Tonight’s episode, “Waiting for the Artist,” is the perfect introduction to this odd and wonderful show.
Heather Rose’s novel The Museum of Modern Love takes the events of Abramović’s The Artist Is Present to show how art influences our lives, but in many ways, the writing leaves the reader with a sense of dissatisfaction.
Abramović was leaving a book-signing event when her assailant approached with a self-made portrait of the performance artist, suddenly smashing it over her head.
The Serbian performance artist reimagines The Ugly Duckling, the classic children’s book by Hans Christian Andersen.
Marina Abramović responds to a New York Post story questioning what she has done with the $2.2M she raised to build her institute.
This project joins thousands of other follies of contemporary art.
Acute Art aspires “to explore and enable the transition from art in the physical world into the new, disruptive realm of VR,” something artists have been doing for years.
Blurred Lines: Inside the Art World, showing at the Tribeca Film Festival, is a successful crash course in the forces shaping the art market that fails to go deeper.