Thirty-seven years after the artist’s death, a new exhibition proves that Oppenheim’s furry teacup was just one of her many daring artistic statements.
Despite a career spanning six decades, Jaramillo’s rigorous, original work has largely been overlooked by museums and markets — until now.
While artist’s career has consistently invited interpretation based in institutional critique and real-world tumult, it is equally constructive to consider her work from a psychological, rather than political, vantage.
HOUSTON, Texas — In this long, hot summer of violence, election-campaign anxiety, and widespread malaise, seekers of relief might find solace in music, movies or visits to museums — that is, in art in general, not so much for escapism, but for art’s reassuring messages about the endurance of the human spirit in the face of adversity.
On this week’s art crime blotter: thieves take Taco Bell painting, vandals critique Kant, and a man mistaken for Banksy sues six NYPD officers.
The first rule of social networking is that it’s very hard to make things private. It’s a decent bet that almost everything you post online is in some way accessible by people you don’t necessarily want to see it. This leads us the related first rule of art vandalism: if you did it, don’t claim it on YouTube or post about it on your Facebook page — unless you want to get charged.
Poor Picasso. His “Femme au fauteuil rouge (Woman in a Red Armchair)” (1929) was vandalized last week at Houston’s Menil Collection and the artist claiming responsibility for the action, Uriel Llanderos, has essentially been bragging about his bravado on his rather sparse Facebook page. But the story doesn’t stop there.
Picasso’s 1929 painting “Conquista La Bestia” (“Conquer the Beast”) was vandalized last week at Houston’s Menil Collection by a man with a can of spray paint. According to the city’s Local 2 news, he stenciled the image of a bullfighter killing a bull with the word “conquista” underneath.