Recent books by Tim Lawrence and Douglas Crimp underline the close relationship between the New York art scene of the 1970s and ’80s and that most unjustly maligned of musical movements, disco.
The art organization Artangel has invited visual artists, writers, and performers to respond to Reading Gaol’s most famous inmate, Oscar Wilde.
When the slideshow of Nan Goldin’s The Ballad of Sexual Dependency flipped past pictures of her ex Brian, I finally understood why she had photographed him so much.
With America Is Hard to See, the exhibition inaugurating its luminous new Renzo Piano building, the Whitney has reclaimed its role among the city’s museums as the engine of the new.
The inaugural exhibition at the new Whitney Museum is not perfect, but it is pretty damn good.
PARIS — I used to abhor Nan Goldin’s “The Ballad of Sexual Dependency” (1979-1986), her famous 45-minute operatic show of 800 color slides set to a choppy 80s pop music soundtrack.
PARIS — This is a vision of a universalized eclectic global art in forward motion: a relational aesthetic that seems to hover over many exhibitions in France as a great correctness that cannot be questioned, only tampered with.
When we talk about Balthus what we talk about are perversities: a grown man painting erotically charged portraits of Lolita-like young girls with their skirts flapped up like flowers.
While at the landmark exhibition Hide/Seek: Difference and Desire in American Portraiture at the Brooklyn Museum, I realized I had to start my review with a statement that will look simple and quite possibly stupid: Hide/Seek is more than David Wojnarowicz’s “A Fire In My Belly.”
Don’t you love attending a high profile art opening on a Friday night and instead of getting a nice big glass of vino, being handed a plastic cup of imported mineral water? Forget about TGIF. Obviously, we all have to suffer if the artist is in recovery and the legendary bad girl photographer Nan Goldin, now 58 years old, is trying to stay off the stuff.
The photographer who documented real 1980s New York grit, Nan Goldin, now points her lens towards…peacocks, horses and shoes? In a new ad campaign for luxury shoe line Jimmy Choo, Goldin lends her signature to some awfully confusing images.
On November 30, 1994, choreographer Bill T. Jones’s experimental dance piece “Still/Here” opened at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The work featured live dancers performing in front of video footage of terminally ill people discussing their sicknesses. Nearly a month later, dance critic Arlene Croce blasted the piece in a now-infamous essay in the New Yorker. Announcing that she had never seen “Still/Here” and had no intention of doing so, Croce wrote, “By working dying people into his act, Jones is putting himself beyond the reach of criticism. I think of him as literally undiscussable.” She went on to classify that category of undiscussability as “those dancers I’m forced to feel sorry for because of the way they present themselves: as dissed blacks, abused women, or disenfranchised homosexuals—as performers, in short, who make out of victimhood victim art.” In many ways, the National Portrait Gallery’s current, controversial, and excellent special exhibition Hide/Seek feels like a resounding rebuttal of Croce’s thesis.