Kirchner was the anti-Matisse.
With Franz Marc and August Macke: 1909-1914, the Neue Galerie implicitly argues that the two artists belong among the pantheon of Europe’s modern masters.
By returning to the details of life embedded in bodies, objects, and the earth, the artists featured in Before the Fall at Neue Galerie conveyed the hope that the world might reassemble itself.
The talent and tumult of Richard Gerstl’s work beg the question of what would have been had he not ended his life.
The first US retrospective of the works of Richard Gerstl provides a detailed profile of the painter who is known more for his tempestuous personality and his tragic death than for his artistic innovations.
Winfrey bought “Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer II” (1912) at Christie’s in 2006 for $87.9 million, which remains the auction record for a Klimt.
The uncannily contemporary aspect of Gustav Klimt’s painting is that it was always in flux.
The central question of portraiture is how to best turn its subjects inside out — how to best manipulate an inanimate medium so as to capture an animate sitter with a hidden history of invisible experience.
Despite its inclusion of more than 130 works on paper and canvas, the ravishing retrospective Egon Schiele: Portraits, occupying the third floor of New York’s Neue Galerie, leaves you hungry. Not for more art, because there’s plenty of that, but for something else, something to make whole an ineffable absence — a deficit attributable not to the artist, nor to the exhibition or curator, but to time and fate.
Skimming through various museum sites for their fall schedules, the first thing that caught my eye was a notice for The Art of the Chinese Album at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
It’s not often that a museum gets to directly respond to front-page, bolded-headline media coverage with an exhibition that both nourishes the public’s curiosity about the reported phenomenon and expands the perception of it as well. Deliberately or otherwise, Neue Galerie couldn’t have timed it better.
A cloud of criticism, apology and embarrassment hangs over the oeuvre of Ferdinand Hodler, the prodigiously talented Swiss painter who was born the same year as Vincent van Gogh (1853) and died, like Gustav Klimt, in 1918.
Hodler’s work bridges the academic neo-classicism of Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (his teacher’s teacher) at one end and the Viennese Expressionism of Klimt and Egon Schiele on the other, a coupling that accounts as much for its manipulative magnetism as for its overdetermined artifice.