Loren Munk’s “SOHO Map” offers a visual record of a densely peopled art world.
As stores begin to reopen, the future of these artworks remains in limbo but one thing is certain: for the first time in decades, the Manhattan neighborhood is teeming with art again.
Molly Soda, Claudia Hart, and Faith Holland will discuss their work at a panel this week, The Artist Isn’t (Physically) Present: Women in Digital Art.
There once was a time when the resistance movements of New York pushed back against the regimenting, state-sponsored programs known as “urban renewal.”
That film is open to all sorts of escapes, inspirations, and incursions has long been the stuff of movies.
In 2013, artist Kelly Heaton had a vision of a magnificent bee appearing in the darkness, illuminated by an iridescent aura.
The Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art announced yesterday a major expansion of its current Soho space that will result in the near doubling of the young institution’s footprint.
One block of New York City’s Soho has had numerous identities over the past four centuries.
The Swiss Institute’s basement gallery space looks like the set for an avant-garde science fiction movie right now.
Lina Puerta makes ruin porn on an unusually intimate scale.
In the course of writing The Rise and Fall of Artists’ SoHo (Routledge), I read several earlier books about lofts and artists in lower Manhattan. The most embarrassing by far, in spite of some research worth crediting, was Sharon Zukin’s Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change.
“It is rather inspiring,” writes Peter Schjeldahl in the New York Times, “that in an hour of political crisis this art (despite its makers’ eschewal of revolutionary postures) has arisen to make possible a project like 112 Greene Street.” The year is 1970. The place is Soho, until recently known as the South Houston Industrial District. Here an unemployed artist can buy a six-story cast-iron ex-rag-picking warehouse, and huge chunks of sheet-zinc cornice can lie abandoned on the sidewalk at a demolition site until another artist bribes the garbage men to drive them to his studio.