There is so much information handed to us in the exhibition, Eileen Agar: Angel of Anarchy that we risk forgetting what we might think if we came fresh to a painting.
Caldiero’s language experiments are rooted in the land and anchored in his body, at the junction between his brain and his larynx.
Emily Segal’s novel provides a wickedly sharp depiction of the socioeconomic and cultural conditions of New York’s creative community.
Nearly 50 years ago, Choong Sup Lim left South Korea for New York City in search of freedom in art and life.
The legacy of Cinque Gallery demonstrates that the work of Black artists between 1969 and 2004 was as diverse as its mainstream counterpart.
Hepper welcomed absurdity in her juxtapositions of the organic and the fabricated, unafraid of making sculpture that could raise a laugh, or an eyebrow.
This week, a giant mural by Nina Chanel Abney, taking down ALL statues, the Ivy League cartel, the trope of the old woman artist, artwashing and extractivism, and more.
You could say that Nina Hamnett fell victim to her own reckless self-mythologizing.
Gyun Hur’s and Shoshanna Weinberger’s installations emphasize poetic innuendo rather than overt autobiography.
The Benjamin Files by Fredric Jameson explains everything by reference to everything else, in a way that often makes the narrative all but impenetrable.
Johns has repeatedly used one motif whose source has never been identified.
Armstrong’s paintings explore the role of Black athletes as agents of social change even as white fans push back.