The Museum of the City of New York is inviting artists from NYC and beyond to submit to an open call for works.
The video installation akingdoncomethas is an epic montage of sermons and performances from Black churches.
Jenkins’s videos do more than talk back to a racist screen.
Video art was something you watched “with the lights on,” as França insisted, without pretenses of high art.
MoMA’s exhibition Neelon Crawford: Filmmaker is a retrospective of his experimental work documenting machinery, travels in South America, and more.
The Museum of Modern Art’s retrospective exhibition Liquid Reality showcases how Kubota turned video art into sculpture.
The intention behind the seemingly bizarre combination was, according to Attie, “to give visual form to the shared American and Brazilian reality of nationalistic divisions that defines our political present.”
In a series of PSA-style videos, Paul Pescador poses questions about government that quickly unravel into a nightmarishly complex knot of existential crises.
Fifty years ago, poet Heberto Padilla was forced to publicly denounce himself and his friends as counterrevolutionaries.
“Devil You Know,” a video essay by Don Edler, looks at the emergence of artificial intelligence systems in political discourse and civic life.
In March, Chang put out an open call for our fears and made a video out of them. Watching it eight months later, I hoped it would help name whatever it was I was feeling.
In Stanya Kahn’s earlier films, Los Angeles seems ready to spark a revolution at any moment. But in the newest adventure, the urban sprawl creeps into the inhabitants’ states of mind, and everything languishes.