Each canvas follows its own off-beat rhythm.
We know precious little about the painter’s life, and we know even less about his work’s meaning. A new book argues that the artist wanted it that way.
Banhart’s first solo show in Los Angeles is at turns intimate and grandiose.
Carter’s paintings gesture toward unknown realms, whether death or nonhuman consciousness.
Pusey’s cursive marks sit in that zone where writing becomes drawing and vice versa.
The change in hue and density from painting to painting struck me as simultaneously methodical and intuitive.
It took me years to find the language to tell this story.
Prachakul paints friends and acquaintances who, like the artist, are part of the Asian diaspora.
Gentry was one of a number of Black artists who had to navigate the art world’s demand to emphasize their racial identity in the “right” way.
The artist describes each small painting, created in the style of the ex-voto, as a sign of resilience.
Mary Weatherford’s new paintings confront us with a sense of place, a remembered moment, a hidden story.
Legend has it that no one took notice of Jackson Pollock’s first exhibitions in Paris, but an anonymous Hungarian immigrant named Judit Reigl did.