“How is art to react? By persisting in its freedom.”
Serra’s new works are the ultimate billionaire’s art.
A new book of conversations between the noted artist and art historian captures a complex body of work that continues to challenge the conventions of sculpture.
I remember David Zwirner Gallery back in the 1990s, before Chelsea, when the New York art world was much smaller and more manageable.
Connors has arrived at a synthesis of what, up until now, has been a stylistically identifiable but rather diverse output.
The first painting I saw in 2016 was “Cockman Always Rises Orange” (2015): we can’t say we weren’t warned.
The lobby gallery at the Skidmore, Owings & Merrill-designed midtown office tower at 1285 Avenue of the Americas, with its partitioned walls flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows on the north and south sides of the building, is unusually well-suited for both casual and concentrated encounters with art.
A visit last weekend to Dia:Beacon, the vast repository of Minimalist art on the east bank of the Hudson River, brought home once more the complexities and contradictions of a movement whose goal was to be as plain as the nose on your face.
In a small, über-blue chip stretch of 21st Street in Chelsea, three adjacent galleries are concurrently running exhibitions that feature a series of monumental art pieces that move between refined, processed, man-made materiality to earthen structures, and plant life that grows from the soil.
And then there’s Richard Serra, whose double-gallery blowout at Gagosian is Exhibit A for material-intensity-meets-overwhelming-scale. There’s nothing else like it.
Today New York’s City Council voted on a proposal to co-name the block of Stuyvesant Avenue between Lexington Avenue and Quincy Street in Brooklyn “Do the Right Thing Way” after the Spike Lee joint that was filmed there in 1989.
2015 marks the 30th anniversary of Jorge Luis Rodriguez’s “Growth” and the public art program that initiated its creation.