A fireball pops from a dark background suffused with a dismal yellow glow. Below the red-orange orb, vague bluish masses border a deep-violet promontory. As one approaches this image, wavy patterns shimmer like mirages, confounding the eyes and interrupting the visual experience induced by Rosha Yaghmai’s painting, Afterimage, Red Eye, rendered in acrylic and ink on organza and cotton.
“I always want to do what I’m afraid of,” the late artist Kiki Kogelnik wrote in a statement she gave in the mid-1970s. She was referring to her parachute jump off the iconic steel tower at Coney Island, a moment when her desire for the unknown overcame her sense of danger and she leapt into space. But she was also remarking on the conditions of her art, indicating the boundaries she’d crossed both geographically and pictorially.
Each of Shire’s pieces embodies his true love for Southern California, and his own playful spirit, a sentiment that has given his work distinction within the international art world over his many decades of practice.
I began carrying a 35 mm camera and would take pictures on the street as I biked to and from the pool, cutting through the park. I was learning to see the city in a different way because of Anthony’s street pictures. I was learning how to look, how to observe.
Afterimages—those neon shapes that occur in our field of vision after staring at an image or object—are like a strange kind of haunting. A scene becomes warped, faint, and technicolor, like memories that fade over time even as the details of their retelling become exaggerated. Rosha Yaghmai’s new works at Kayne Griffin elicit this phenomenon in both form and title through dreamy, abstract fields of color that bleed and blur, disallowing any sharp image to emerge.
At Kayne Griffin on La Brea, Rosha Yaghmai’s paintings in her solo show “Afterimages” dance with vibrant moire patterns as you walk around them
In a body of work from 2018, artist Robert Irwin, an originator in the 1960s of the distinctive genre known as Light and Space art, did something simple but surprising: He switched off the lights in his art.
In our ongoing ‘At Home With’ profile series, we go home, from home, with artists to hear about what they’re making, what’s making them tick, and the moments that made them. Here, we speak to American artist Hank Willis Thomas about how a premonition in January 2020 led him to the forefront of one of the most overdue cultural reckonings of the last 100 years
The memorial, called “The Embrace” and designed by Thomas and architects at MASS Design Group, will honor the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Coretta Scott King.
Sculpture is a medium of art with infinite possibilities. Unbounded by canvas or wall, a sculpture is only defined by the space itself. Yet despite the limitless potential definitions, there is only ever one realized in the moment that the iron is cast, the glass blown, or the stone hewn. This decisive moment is what allows for a narrative to form, one which in masterful hands reflects the society that surrounds it. “Sculptures,” a group show currently running at Kayne Griffin Corcoran, illustrates this narrative by expertly linking works created over the last sixty years in beautiful conversation.
In 2009, Mika Tajima and New Humans transformed SFMOMA’s atrium space into a multimedia installation and open set incorporating live performance elements. This production-as-performance stage and film studio featured a collaboration with filmmaker Charles Atlas and various performers. Tajima’s edit, here, focuses on various configurations of rehearsal and performance, including an experimental lecture by philosopher Judith Butler.
Learn more about the artworks presented and see the full schedule for the #MuseumFromHome Online Screening series here.
Brooklyn-based artist Charles Harlan, whose sculpture Tree (2018) is on view in Celine’s SoHo, New York showroom, works primarily with materials associated with industrial fabrication and the quotidian. Tree consists of a portion of a tree trunk which had grown around and partially consumed a “Private Property” sign—one in a series focused on this phenomenon, known as edaphoecotropism. This group of works, Harlan tells me, embodies notions of hybridity—the “object” that results from this process “is neither ‘natural’ nor ‘man-made.’” His sculptures often take the form of readymades—a fishing boat, a wheelbarrow—and although many have a playful, Duchampian quality to them, their art historical lineage can perhaps more accurately be traced to “nonsites,” a concept developed by the Land artist Robert Smithson.
Known mostly for his work in film and television (Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Mulholland Drive, Twin Peaks), David Lynch’s surrealistic vision has also spilled over into a plethora of other mediums, including painting (he studied painting at Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and originally intended to make a career of it), music, and photography – which he picked up after establishing his name as a filmmaker.
Monuments are critical tools in shaping the values and identity of society. Most of what we know about many ancient cultures -- Egypt, Great Zimbabwe, Greece, Rome -- are through public monuments. So we have to imagine that much of what future generations will know about us is through the monuments we choose to put up and preserve.
There isn't that much public space dedicated to contemplation. Many of the images and objects we see outside are advertisements that are directing us to buy something rather than asking us to reflect on something.
In two of the public sculptures that I've created, "Unity," of an arm pointing skyward, at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge in New York City; and the forthcoming work, "The Embrace," a tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr. and Coretta Scott King, in Boston, I referenced incredibly common gestures that personify all of us.
The latest work to appear in Washington, DC is a guerilla project by Hank Willis Thomas and several collaborators, which covered the façade of the US Department of Justice building last night with a projection of writings by incarcerated and formerly incarcerated individuals before it was relocated to the Newseum after police arrived. The aim of the intervention was to highlight the impact of the coronavirus pandemic on US prisoners, which disproportionately affects African Americans.
The innovative sculptor Beverly Pepper was a resident artist with the Visiting Artist program in the Quad Cities in 1981. Over a dozen works were created during her time here. Four of them remain in the Quad Cities, of which three are available for the general public to view. Her sculptures, many of them monumental in size, have been exhibited in major museums throughout the world including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Brooklyn Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, the Centre Pompidou in Paris, the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art, and in many locations throughout Italy where she resided for many decades.
Artist Robert Irwin, who is known for his pioneering experimentations with light and space, will have his first solo exhibition with the Los Angeles–based gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran in September, the same month he will turn 92 years old.
When Maggie Kayne’s gallery, Kayne Griffin Corcoran, temporarily locked its doors, the native Angeleno decamped to her sprawling farm in Washington’s North Cascades mountains. Like the rest of us, she’s pivoted to new technologies to stay in touch with gallery artists, which include the likes of Hank Willis Thomas, James Turrell, and Mary Corse, and to connect with clients around the world.
The artist Hank Willis Thomas is taking a stand on behalf of the world’s incarcerated population, many of whom are suffering as the coronavirus pandemic ravages prisons, with a new installation of his work, The Writing on the Wall. On Sunday night, the artist and Baz Dreisinger, executive director of the think tank Incarceration Nations Network, projected texts written by people in jail onto the facades of buildings tied to the criminal justice system in lower Manhattan.
Curator and writer Neville Wakefield (founder and artistic director of Desert X) caught up by phone with photographer Anthony Hernandez in isolation in Fairfield, a remote town in the middle of the prairie in Idaho, to talk about his revelatory Rodeo Drive 1984 photographs, what caught his eye, and his process for capturing the photographs. As Rodeo Drive emerges from closure due to Covid-19, you might enjoy this look at the fashions and hairstyles on show on the three-block retail stretch in one of its many heydays.
As an underground comics artist in the 1970s, Kominsky-Crumb pioneered a style that was equal parts confessional and caustic, deeply honest, and darkly funny. Unapologetically autobiographical, her work has chronicled her stifling childhood on Long Island, her first sexual encounter as a teenager (and her many subsequent run-ins, both good and bad), and her relationship with everything from wine to wrinkles to Robert Crumb, her famous cartoonist husband. Her work is unflinching and radical, and paved the way for generations of artists to tackle what it means to be a woman, without a filter.
In the years since Guerrero’s trip, this smiley face has appeared in several of his paintings, including two that were on display in the artist’s first exhibition with Kayne Griffin Corcoran. Canyon de Chelly, Arizona (all works cited, 2019), a nine-foot-tall painting of the rock arrangement, revisits the artist’s 1989 gesture with a kind of ironic reverence—pitting the painting’s grand size against the small, temporary, and informal gathering of stones. The smiley face is easier to miss in A Desert Road, but it’s there, on the ground, pictured between a winsome, classically rendered European nude and a kachina (wearing a mask representing a bear) locked in a de Chirico–esque High Noon standoff. Blooming saguaro, a frog, a roadrunner, a Walmart truck, and a line of black ants also populate the scene of this supremely weird and satisfying painting.
I love to share the story about how the youthful Mary Corse created this paint, first by seeing a problem to solve and then looking closely at the world around her for a creative solution. In this extended time of looking together, our curiosity has been piqued by listening to each other’s perspectives, sometimes hearing quieter classmates for the first time. This artwork calls us to slow down and to notice, to pay attention by being present — never knowing what gifts may abound when we take the time to look — closely, and together — tightly knit.
If the empty streets of America have taken on a distinctly Lynchian feel during lockdown, David Lynch himself hasn’t noticed. The writer-director of such eerie art house classics as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive and whose Twin Peaks: The Return on Showtime earned nine Emmy nominations in 2018 has been holed up inside his Hollywood studio during the COVID-19 crisis, busying himself with painting, music and film projects. He credits his positive state of mind to his longtime Transcendental Meditation practice; his David Lynch Foundation is now bringing TM to stressed health care workers with an initiative called Heal the Healers Now.
“We are trying to imagine new ways of communing and being generative in a time of isolation and crisis. Notions of productivity and usefulness have drastically changed. Having shifted to a remote work environment where I spend most time working alone, I am sharpening my ideas, making new connections, widening my researching and thinking of new forms..." - Mika Tajima
In a series of spinning circular paintings inspired by Marcel Duchamp’s ‘Rotoreliefs’ (1935/1953), Guerrero activates symbols from the prehistoric Hohokam and Mimbres societies, who once lived in portions of the Sonoran Desert. Inverting the Duchampian attempt to enhance the two-dimensional into three, Guerrero’s spinning works distil two entities into one. In Mimbres: Road Runner and Coyote and Mimbres: Tortoise and Hare, each symbol is reliant on the other for meaning: the tortoise is only slow because the hare is fast. As the paintings spin, the hunter is no longer discernible from the hunted, the beginning indistinguishable from the end.
Thomas’ show has eight austere wall pieces featuring flat fields of color, often laid out like a TV color bar test pattern. At first glance, they look like run-of-the-mill Minimalist or color field paintings, composed of solid, hard-edged squares or stripes of bright, saturated color. Closer inspection reveals barely perceptible photographic imagery printed over the smooth, somewhat reflective vinyl. It’s impossible to see these images all at once: You must shift position continuously for the pictures to appear. (They reveal themselves more clearly in flash photography, but that’s not how they appear in the gallery.)
There’s been an accident. That’s what may enter your mind when you step through the front gate at Kayne Griffin Corcoran in Los Angeles and see a car lodged nose first in the gallery’s garden. Beyond that, indoors, lie pieces of a motorcycle that appears to have disintegrated mid-cruise. This, however, is no accident. The car is a Dodge Charger. Bright orange. Emblazoned with a Confederate battle flag on the roof and the words “General Lee” just over the windows — a facsimile of the 1969 souped-up ride that roared through seven seasons of CBS’ “The Dukes of Hazzard” during the early 1980s. The dismembered motorcycle is a chopper, just like the famous “Captain America” driven by Peter Fonda in the 1969 counterculture flick “Easy Rider.” A star-spangled helmet lies face-down nearby. These cinematic collisions at the Mid-Wilshire gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran are part of artist Hank Willis Thomas’ first solo gallery show in Los Angeles in more than a decade.
Pace Gallery and Kayne Griffin Corcoran are partnering on a joint show of work by the artist, to whom Kanye West donated $10 million last year to finish the giant Roden Crater project in the Arizona desert.
In the grassy courtyard of Kayne Griffin Corcoran in Mid City, a Dukes of Hazzard replica car is upturned, balancing on its front bumper. The confederate flag is painted on its roof, and the words “General Lee” are prominent, recalling so many confederate monuments that have been recently questioned and dismantled.
Those who have followed David Lynch’s remarkable career as a filmmaker are likely aware of his equally remarkable career as an artist. From the very start, the creative impulse was sparked by his painting, then gradually through the unique pace of Lynch’s alchemical growth, he has henceforth been able to harvest other related mediums to expand his visual lexicon, from photography, sculpture, lamps, furniture, and music to the monumental undertaking of creating the David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness–Based Education and World Peace (facilitating access to Transcendental Meditation as a stress-reducing method for “at-risk” populations including the homeless, US military veterans, African war refugees, and prison inmates).
In her current exhibition Recent Paintings at Pace Gallery, Mary Corse demonstrates that she is an active progenitor of multiple male-dominated movements of the sixties and seventies including Hard-edged abstraction, Minimalism, and the West Coast Light and Space movement. It is precisely her place at the center of this art-historical Venn-diagram and her penchant for blurring the lines of these movements that make her work innovative.
Artnet News editor-in-chief Andrew Goldstein roamed the fair's miles of aisles to single out some of the most gripping art on view.
Fifty masters gather to celebrate an ambitious new tower in Chelsea—the world’s largest venue devoted to the sale of contemporary art.
Almost every art festival in Japan is tasked with revivifying the local landscape, but the second edition of the triennial Okayama Art Summit, curated by French artist Pierre Huyghe and titled IF THE SNAKE, aims at replacing the historic geography of old Okayama with links to the spaces of fiction and technology. At the opening, Huyghe spoke softly of wanting to augment visitors’ experiences and have them feel like witnesses not spectators, connected and transformed by the works they encounter.
One painting disappears as you wander past it toward the next, your perception guiding you in different directions to view how light and time transform the colossal canvases of Mary Corse. The sprawling first floor of the immense new Pace Gallery flagship in New York is an ideal environment to linger and examine the new large-scale Inner Band glass microspheres in acrylic on canvas paintings that isolate fields of primary color between vertical bands of black and white.
David Lynch loves the word ointment. It’s a term that makes many cringe, appearing on word-aversion lists and inviting exaggerated pronunciation to indicate just how off-putting the word feels on the tongue. But Lynch, the artist and master director behind such macabre, Surrealist films as Mulholland Drive, The Elephant Man, and Blue Velvet—not to mention the cult favorite television series Twin Peaks—has made a career out of leaning into the world’s discomfort, or at least of exposing it.
Standing at the newly constructed intersection of Tillary and Adams Streets, near the exit from the Brooklyn Bridge, is a new, 22-foot bronze arm with the index finger pointing skyward. Commissioned by New York City’s Percent for Art program, the permanent sculpture was created by Hank Willis Thomas and is titled “Unity” (2019). Is this outstretched arm a new greeting at the threshold of Brooklyn, like the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor?
To raise money for his 1977 feature film, Eraserhead, David Lynch once had a job delivering The Wall Street Journal in Los Angeles. “I had a night route—picked up my papers at 11:30 p.m., and I had it down to one hour flat. I made $50 dollars a week,” he recalls over the phone. For Lynch, the director behind films such as Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive and the television series Twin Peaks, it was one of the more unusual posts he held over the course of his six-decade career as an artist and filmmaker.
The paintings and drawings by Jo Baer, Mary Corse, and Agnes Martin in “At the Edge of Things” range in date from 1959 to this year, but all are grounded in phenomenology and investigations of borders. Corse has beveled some of her stretcher bars so that the paintings become wall-mounted plinths, extending out to meet the viewer’s gaze. Most of Martin’s vertical graphite lines in Untitled #12, 2002, do not touch the edges of the canvas but fade out near the top and bottom. An arm span of taut cloth becomes an arena for mental projection, as evinced by occasional titles (Gratitude, 2001, and Aspiration, 1960, for example).
For the artist Hank Willis Thomas, one of the highlights of having his mid-career survey at the Portland Art Museum is that it’s in the same city as the headquarters of Nike.
In the soaring atrium at the entrance to Hank Willis Thomas’s exhibition “All Things Being Equal...” at the Portland Art Museum, a circle of 28-foot-long blue banners stitched with rows of white stars descends to the ground. Titled “14,719,” this immersive chapel of falling stars echoes elements of the American flag and commemorates the number of individuals shot and killed in the United States in 2018.
Sarah Crowner is sitting at a window in Paris, surveying the City of Light. “I can see all these beautiful shades of grey,” she says, laughing. “But I’m thinking, where is the pink? Where is the turquoise?!”
The Brooklyn-based, California-raised artist has an Angeleno’s sense of colour. It dominates her work in glorious swathes to uniquely mood-boosting effect. Curiously constructed, her vast canvases comprise individually painted planes of sailcloth fabric sewn together on industrial Juki sewing machines. Often, they are scores of feet wide: her latest work is a seven-metre-long “frieze” of hot pinks, maroons and navy blues. Located in the newly renovated Louis Vuitton store on London's New Bond Street, it is one of nine pieces of art that the architect Peter Marino commissioned for the retailer’s revamp.
Sunset Boulevard is about to get a leather bar makeover thanks to artist Mika Tajima and Art Production Fund who are erecting a four-channel video work across a quartet of digital billboards on the iconic commercial strip. The commissioned video, “PSYCHO GRAPHICS,” draws upon bondage aesthetics as a tool for abstraction. The identity of dancer Alexandra Jacobs, who stretches and contorts her body for Tajima’s camera, is completely masked by the zentai suit that even consumes her pointe shoes. A commentary on the outside forces that act upon our images, “PSYCHO GRAPHICS” toys with the artificial difference between public and private space.
Hernandez focused his lens on the poor and working-class pedestrians that fill the vastness of LA, its grand driving boulevards and marquee promenades. Working parallel to, but independently of, the Chicano art collective Asco – whose political performance work of the 1970s and ’80s called attention to the absence of Latinx people in art and film – Hernandez’s images subtly underscored the fact that the city’s minority-majority Latinx population, as well as lower-income communities more broadly, were still marginalized.
This is the New York artist’s first exhibition at the gallery. Appropriately—as this town is known for producing cinematic, fictive narration—entitled Scene. This particular group of works presenting a constellation of relations as if staged for the duration of this particular presentation. Monique Mouton cuts her sheets from a roll of paper, leaving a jagged or curving edge that will become compositionally significant as a particular work is developed.
Kayne Griffin Corcoran, a serene refuge off of a busy Los Angeles street, was originally conceived through a meeting of Maggie Kayne, Bill Griffin, and Jim Corcoran to discuss an artist commission and has since emerged as a destination in Los Angeles’ gallery network. Each offering a distinct perspective, the partners of Kayne Griffin Corcoran benefit from each other’s varied experiences, using their differences to foster innovation and constant evolution. A shared commitment to Los Angeles culture and history unites the three partners and acts as the framework from which they have built their roster of internationally-lauded artists and rigorous exhibition programming.
Beverly Pepper's tensile, totemic sculptures often register an acute sense of contingency. Over her nearly six-decade-long career—which has evaded recognition commensurate with her contributions to the development of public sculpture since its proliferation in the 1970s—the American-born, Italy-based artist has bodied forth a semiotics of flux, one playing out everywhere from the precarious angles of her cantilevered steel to her mutable surfaces of rusted iron.
Struggle and overcoming are also themes in Hank Willis Thomas’s “Overtime” (2011) and “Opportunity” (2011). The former is a high-contrast video of Black men playing basketball, intercut with images of a noose — it questions the relationship between images of Black men in triumph on the court and painful portrayals of lynching and violence. The latter, a sculpture installed nearby, captures the moment a hand reaches out for a football, when it is still unclear if the ball has been caught or dropped.
While her contemporaries moved away from painting, however, increasingly working with sculpture or light tubes, Corse delved deeper into the medium. For her, paintings can exist without either the canvas or paint; a painting is defined not by materials but by an experience of light. This perceptual experience, in turn, is invariably subjective—an idea that occurred to the artist when studying quantum physics, in which we see light as a particle or a wave but never both at the same time. Light enables vision and each individual experiences different visions.
After about six months of indefinite closure, MoMA PS1 has reopened an installation by the artist James Turrell, known for engaging viewers’ perceptions with real and artificial light.
The work, “Meeting,” was closed in January when construction from a pair of luxury apartment buildings near the museum, an outpost of MoMA in Long Island City, Queens, became visible through a rectangular opening in the ceiling. A minimal environment, it alludes to Quaker meeting houses and frames the waning light and weather. It was intended to give an unobstructed view of the sky.
Anthony Hernandez’s “Screened Pictures” exhibition at Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery suggests that photographs do not so much capture reality as they make physical the distance between camera and subject. Paradoxical as that may seem, this leaves viewers front and center: drawing us into dramas and making us wonder what we’re missing.
For five decades, Anthony Hernandez, who was born and raised on L.A.'s Eastside — first in Boyle Heights, then East Los Angeles — has quietly chronicled the city’s rougher edges. His earliest experiments were with street photography, capturing Angelenos caught in private worlds as they moved around the city.
This fall the triennial Okayama Art Summit will return under the artistic direction of French artist Pierre Huyghe. From Friday, September 27 through Sunday, November 24, the exhibition will be on view in the centre of Okayama City, Japan and in a number of historic and cultural venues.
Artists include Mika Tajima, among others.
Filmmaker, painter, musician, actor, and photographer David Lynch will be showcasing a two-month-long exhibition titled “My Head is Disconnected” at HOME in Manchester, UK, for the Manchester International Festival.
The exhibition will also see Lynch-signed limited-edition prints called Four (4) Heads Came Out on Wednesday be available for purchase. The print is described in an official statement as, “figurative apparition with multiple floating, circling heads, wailing upon a lonely hillside, a house of home in the rear-ground, earth and sky mingling in a brewing storm of Lynchian menace.”
When James Turrell flew the skies of Arizona in 1974, not yet acquainted with the volcano that would soon become his life’s work, he piloted his tiny plane over the nearby sites of Sunset Crater and Wupatki National Monument. The former is a hulking cinder cone that built up after dramatic eruptions around the turn of the first millennium, when lava spewed forth in red and yellow hues said to have inspired its name. The latter was home to settlements of ancient indigenous peoples known as the Sinagua—so described for their ability to live “without water”—whose desert descendants today include Hopi and Navajo natives.
Had he flown an hour or so south, to Tempe, Turrell would have seen an array of buildings that make up Arizona State University. That would have been before the development of the gleaming new School of Earth and Space Exploration and the Center for Science and the Imagination, institutions of a kind that has made ASU a hub for innovation and interdisciplinary thought. It would have predated the construction of Air Apparent, a sculptural observatory that Turrell designed to encourage students on campus to commune with the sky. And it would have been much longer still—some four-and-a-half decades—before Turrell and ASU would enter into a momentous partnership to aid in the completion of perhaps the grandest artwork ever conceived: Roden Crater.
Huguette Caland’s painting series Bribes de Corps (Body Parts) could very well be an expression of orgasmic pleasure. The canvases painted in the early 1970s are filled with bright, sunny bursts of vibrating color. Organic forms—abstract and elemental—evoke feminine curves, slits, and points of embrace. Created in the run-up to the Lebanese civil war as the Beirut-born but relocated artist found her voice in Paris, the works reflect Caland’s essence as a free, fun-loving woman detaching herself from the burdens of patriarchal tradition and the conventions of genre. While hints of the Mediterranean Sea remained, Caland liberated her paintings from a sense of place and opted instead to search deep inside her own soul and desires.
My plans for the future are also developing new bodies of work that I’ve always wanted to realize but never had the opportunity to do in the past. The Whitney show is traveling to LACMA this summer and my paintings will be in a three person exhibition with Agnes Martin at my hometown gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran in LA that I am excited about. Then in November, I’ll have my first solo exhibition at Pace New York. A very fulfilling year!
David Lynch has made no secret of his infatuation with the industrial revolution throughout his career, a theme that has followed him around in multiple different artistic creations.
“Well…if you said to me, ‘Okay, we’re either going down to Disneyland or we’re going to see this abandoned factory,’ there would be no choice,” Lynch once in an interview. “I’d be down there at the factory. I don’t really know why. It just seems like such a great place to set a story.”
Museums and collectors are taking notice. New black curators and scholars are entering the field of art. Prices are astounding. Is this the moment African American art has been waiting for?
Hank Willis Thomas answered his mobile phone, but he couldn’t talk just then. He was in Brussels, at the opening of his solo exhibition at Maruani Mercier, a prominent local art gallery. It was but one stop in what might seem a constant world tour these days for Thomas, who, at 43, personifies the successful mid-career artist.
The photographer Anthony Hernandez tends to measure his work almost exclusively in formal phases. It is not unusual for photographers to accentuate the application of their craft rather than to what it is applied, especially for those who came of age at a time when the artistic legitimacy of photography was still questioned. But in Hernandez’s case, given the immediacy and importance of his pictures’ content, the emphasis on form is surprising. Over five decades, in ways both oblique and pointed, Hernandez has documented the breakdown of the social safety net, the brutal follies of contemporary urban planning, and the adulteration of the natural environment. His career, which seems only more apposite today, has been dedicated to investigating a long arc of inequity. Or perhaps it is one measured more by the way he has investigated it. Or both.
Tilda Swinton can boast of many achievements, having performed in more than 70 films, including “Michael Clayton,” for which she won an Oscar in 2008. But until now Ms. Swinton, 58, has never organized an art exhibition.
The show, “Orlando,” which opens Friday at the Aperture Foundationand features nearly five dozen photographs by 11 artists, is Ms. Swinton’s first foray into art curation. The list of artists includes established names like Mickalene Thomas, Lynn Hershman Leeson and Sally Potter, as well as up-and-coming talents like Elle Pérez. The summer issue of Aperture magazine is also devoted to the project, with Ms. Swinton serving as guest editor. She worked with the publication’s editor, Michael Famighetti.
A photograph of Mary Corse’s White Light Painting (Inner Band Series) provides an idea at best of the composition of the painting—a large but shallow rectangular support, the canvas neatly stretched over the bars. Three vertical bands, varying slightly in tone with an almost silvery color seen in photographs, stretch from the top to the bottom of the canvas, framed by narrower matte white bands on the right and left margins. The delineations between the center three stripes in the image are blurry, but discernible.
Experiencing White Light Painting (Inner Band Series) is deeper than the experience of looking or simply beholding it—you are apprehended by the painting as you spend time with it, paying attention to it and witnessing its permutations.
The Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, which is part of the New Orleans Museum of Art, reopened to the public on Wednesday after an 18-month expansion that added six acres to New Orleans City Park. The garden is now home to 27 sculptures, including works by Beverly Pepper, Teresita Fernández, Elyn Zimmerman, Larry Bell, Katharina Fritsch, Frank Gehry, Shirazeh Houshiary, Hank Willis Thomas, Fred Wilson, Yinka Shonibare, Pedro Reyes, and Ursula von Rydingsvard, among others.
A little bit of fatigue is part of the price of admission to big, sprawling art events like the Venice Biennale. Navigating such an ambitious exhibition is no easy task, since it ranges across multiple venues and brings together vast quantities of material.
Ralph Rugoff’s edition is plenty ambitious and plenty sprawling. But in an attempt to make the 2019 edition a bit more user-friendly, he has conceptually split the big show into two parts, with each of his selected artists getting to show twice: once in the industrial Arsenale space, and again in the main pavilion in the Giardini. Rugoff has dubbed the two parallel and contrasting exhibitions “Proposition A” and “Proposition B.”
Legendary filmmaker David Lynch will present a special season of screenings, live concerts and talks, alongside his first major UK exhibition of visual art, My Head is Disconnected, as part of Manchester International Festival and the summer-long takeover: David Lynch at HOME.
An extensive film programme – It’s a Great Big Wonderful World – spans the many high points of Lynch’s unique oeuvre (6 July – 25 August), from his earliest forays into short filmmaking to the seminal TV series Twin Peaks. In September, a programme of films chosen by Lynch, David Lynch’s True Favourites (13 – 29 September) will include screenings of cult films such as Fellini’s 8½, Fleming’s The Wizard of Oz, and Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard.
LCDQ Legends, the relatively brief but densely packed celebration of the Los Angeles interior design community, is coming up next week.
Who better than Peter Shire, a Los Angeles native, irreverent creative force, and the lone American originally affiliated with the Memphis Group, to catalyze a discussion about the relativity of taste? Interior designer Oliver M. Furth and Sean Yashar of communication agency The Culture Creative will present "Peter Shire: Good Taste" at the Farrow & Ball flagship showroom. Shire, Furth, and Yashar will offer an artist and curator tour of the installation on Tuesday, May 7, at noon.
Frieze New York and TEFAF are a bit pricey, but looking is free (or nearly) at Frieze Sculpture at Rockefeller Center and alternative fairs in Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Frieze Sculpture at Rockefeller Center, an offshoot of the Frieze New York art fair on Randalls Island, in partnership with Tishman Speyer, is offering 16 sculptures by 14 contemporary artists placed around the complex, ready for enshrinement on your smartphone.
At the complex’s north end, Hank Willis Thomas’s two bright metal sculptures recreate talk bubbles in comic strips. (Visitors promptly adopted them as frames for photographing themselves.)
The artist Peter Shire’s rainbow-colored abstract sculptures often sell for more than the price of a modest car. But at Echo Park Pottery, his ceramics studio in Los Angeles, he also makes chunky, colorfully glazed mugs that go for under $100. Pieces from both parts of Shire’s practice will be for sale in New York next month at the new design fair Object & Thing, whose founder, Abby Bangser, a former artistic director of the Frieze art fairs, hopes to “break down the hierarchy between art and design objects by exhibiting everything equally together.”
Artist Anthony Hernandez has joined the roster of Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery in Los Angeles, where he will have a solo show in July. The gallery will also present works by the artist at Frieze New York in May.
Hernandez, who is also represented by Galerie Thomas Zander in Cologne, Germany, has photographed Los Angeles and its inhabitants for almost five decades. Underpinning his images of the city’s landscape and architecture are examinations of contemporary social issues. An installation by Hernandez will figure in the 2019 Venice Biennale.
This fall the Portland Art Museum presents Hank Willis Thomas: All Things Being Equal…, the first major survey of the work of one of America’s most important conceptual artists working today. The exhibition opens October 12, 2019, and will be on view through January 12, 2020.
Throughout his career, Hank Willis Thomas (American, born 1976) has addressed the visual systems that perpetuate inequality and bias in bold, skillfully crafted works. Through photographs, sculpture, video, and collaborative public art projects, he invites us to consider the role of popular culture in instituting discrimination and how art can raise critical awareness in the ongoing struggle for social justice and civil rights.
The John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation announced that it will award fellowships to 168 scholars, fellowships to a diverse group of 168 scholars, artists, and writers, including Dara Friedman, Dora Budor, Colin Gee, Guillermo Gómez-Peña, Jane Hammond, Guadalupe Maravilla, Catherine Opie, and Aki Sasamoto.
Appointed on the basis of prior achievement and exceptional promise, the fellows were chosen from a pool of almost three thousand applicants. They hail from twenty-eight states, the District of Columbia, and two Canadian provinces and represent forty-nine scholarly disciplines and artistic fields and seventy-five different academic institutions.
The American Academy in Rome has named Garrett Bradley, David Brooks, James Casebere, Sarah Crowner, and John Jesurun as winners of the 2019–2020 Rome Prizes in the category for visual art. A total of 36 Rome Prizes were awarded this year to American and Italian artists and scholars, who receive a stipend plus support to live and work for five to 11 months at the Academy’s Rome campus.
Last night the Bronx Museum of Arts reached a milestone, their annual Bronx Gala lead by Executive Director Deborah Cullen raised over a million dollars making it the most profitable gala in the museum’s history. The event honored Hank Willis Thomas and Eric Gottesman for their work with For Freedoms, Junko Kobayashi, the President of the Stan Lee Foundation, and art journalist and curator Carey Lovelace.
The opening cocktail hour witnessed guests sipping curated cocktails while perusing the auction artworks, which included works from Sanford Biggers, Zoe Buckman, KAWS, Angel Otero, and many more. Afterwards, guests shuffled into the dining room for a plated dinner and an exclusive performance from TK Wonder. The performance segued into the night’s honorees, where famed record producer Swizz Beatz presented the Art for Justice Visionaries Award to Hank Willis Thomas and Eric Gottesman for the work they commit to with For Freedoms.
Pratt’s School of Art (SoArt) and the Fine Arts department are proud to present an evening of open exchange for the third annual School of Art Lecture Series event. This year’s event will bring together five thought leaders to share the ways that they have approached notions of safety in their practice. Participants include Ana M. Bermúdez, Commissioner of the New York City Department of Probation; Jammal Lemmy, creative director for March for Our Lives; Hank Willis Thomas, conceptual artist and activist; niv Acosta, multimedia artist and activist; and Tom Finkelpearl, Commissioner of the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs (DCLA).
Exploring the Bonnefanten Museum's David Lynch retrospective in Maastricht, Someone Is in My House, one starts to conjure an image of Lynch's hands: they must never stop moving. The American filmmaker known for macabre, enigmatic films such as Eraserhead, Blue Velvet and Mulholland Drive, as well as his recently revived hit 1990s supernatural crime TV series Twin Peaks, seems to have a manic creative drive that has compelled him to explore every conceivable form of art: paintings, lithographs, black-and-white photographs, drawings, comics, collage, sculptures, stop-motion animation and even anthropomorphic design lamps.
Exploring the Bonnefanten Museum’s David Lynch retrospective here, “Someone Is in My House,” one starts to conjure an image of Mr. Lynch’s hands: They must never stop moving.
More than 500 of Mr. Lynch’s artworks are on display in the sprawling exhibition, which runs until April 28 and coincides with the Tefaf Maastricht art fair. A smaller version of the show will travel to HOME, a cultural center in Manchester, England, where it opens July 6.
This summer, Manchester will play host to a major exhibition of visual art by the great filmmaker David Lynch. For while he’s known for his directorial work – Twin Peaks, Mulholland Drive, Dune, Blue Velvet, et cetera – he originally trained as a painter, studying at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.
Painter Mary Obering has joined the New York–based gallery Bortolami, where she will have a solo show in October. The artist is also represented by the Los Angeles enterprise Kayne Griffin Corcoran.
Norman Rockwell’s “Four Freedoms” series presented an image of America intended to bolster patriotic spirit during World War II. Based on a 1941 speech by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in which he extolled the global right to freedom of speech and worship, freedom from want, and the freedom from fear, Rockwell’s canvases were a celebration of Americana. It was, however, a selective celebration. When Rockwell made these paintings in 1943, Japanese-Americans were imprisoned in internment camps while African-American soldiers who grew up under Jim Crow fought in segregated units. “At that time in America, it seems what it meant to be American was white Anglo-Saxon,” said the photographer and conceptual artist Hank Willis Thomas. “We want to shine a light on the fact that artists’ work is often political and shapes culture and society.”
The artist list for the Fifty-Eighth Venice Biennale, “May You Live in Interesting Times,” has been released. Curated by Ralph Rugoff, the exhibition, which takes its title from a phrase that has long been mistaken as an ancient Chinese curse, will take place from May 11 to November 24, 2019. Artists include Anthony Hernandez.
The organization King Boston has named Hank Willis Thomas the winner of a competition to design a new monument to the married activists Martin Luther King, Jr. and Coretta Scott King. Thomas’s monument will appear on Boston Common in the Massachusetts capital, where it is currently expected to be unveiled in 2020.
The push for women, with higher prices and wider exposure for their work, is palpable at the venerable show at the Park Avenue Armory, which runs through Sunday in New York. About a quarter of exhibitors are presenting solo and dual booths dedicated to female artists, long overshadowed and undervalued compared to men. The 96-year-old sculptor Beverly Pepper was the subject of Kayne Griffin Corcoran’s booth, which displayed her early, small-scale, abstract works in bronze, brass and steel.
Beverly Pepper‘s renown for large-scale outdoor sculptures makes her lesser-known small works seem particularly fresh and intimate. “New Particles from the Sun” features 25 modestly-sized indoor sculptures, mostly on pedestals, and a larger one in the courtyard at Kayne Griffin Corcoran. With aluminum, brass and steel assuming lively appearances of pliancy, these underscore the skill with which Pepper has manipulated metal since the dawn of her career.
When one thinks of an artist who works with massive, rusted Cor-ten steel, Richard Serra might be the first name to come to mind. But it was actually 96-year-old Beverly Pepper who was the first artist to work with the material, way back in 1964. “I’m the first person—the first artist in America—to use Cor-Ten,” Pepper told the Smithsonian Archives of American Art’s oral history project in 2009. “US Steel said to me—because, you know, they liked me. I was this good-looking kid—’Beverly, why don’t you try this new material we have. It’s Cor-Ten.'” From this simple suggestion sprang a lifetime of work, monumental sculptures that are naturally weather-resistant, with surfaces that oxidize, turning to rich shades of reddish brown, a layer of rust that fends off corrosion and protects the material from moisture.
The Ice House belongs to a brood of service quarters set back, uphill, from a parent estate on the Hudson River. The building is perched on the lip of its own pond, where large blocks of ice were once extracted and hauled indoors to create a refrigerated storage space. It has since been converted into a white-walled gallery, and to see the art, one must first drive along an icy gravel path, through the complex of buildings, to find the warm and welcoming curator Jayne Drost Johnson, who devotedly waits. Her current show features work by three artists: Yuji Agematsu, Charles Harlan, and Nari Ward.
The Gordon Parks Foundation announced that Guadalupe Rosalesand Hank Willis Thomas have been named 2019 fellows. The artists have each been awarded $20,000 to support new or ongoing projects that reflect and draw inspiration from the themes of representation and social justice in Parks’s creative work. Each project will culminate in exhibitions that will be held at the foundation’s exhibition space in Pleasantville, New York, later this year.
Many of the city’s top galleries and museums are mounting some of their strongest shows this week. “New Particles from the Sun” is a collection of sculptures the 96-year-old American-born, Italy-based sculptor Beverly Pepper, made in the early part of her career, between 1958 and 1967.
“Rosha Yaghmai: Miraclegrow” is on view at CCA Wattis Institute in San Francisco through Saturday, March 30. The solo exhibition is an installation of new work by the Los Angeles–based artist.
One of my favorite works, installed at the University Station, is Beverly Pepper’s Vertical Presence-Grass Dunes. This exterior sculpture, resembling a drill bit, stands tall at the Main Street bus loop measuring 150 feet and is made of corten steel. Also known as weathering steel, the material is popular for outdoor sculpture works because, rather than deteriorating due to exposure, it forms a rust-like appearance and weathers well over time. In addition to the vertical drill bit, corten steel is seen rising and curving throughout the grassy plot. These curving lines contrast beautifully with the striking verticality of the drill bit and communicate harmoniously with the chosen site.
Kayne Griffin Corcoran, Los Angeles, is showcasing the gallery’s second solo exhibition of works by 96-year-old American-born, Italy-based sculptor Beverly Pepper. The exhibition highlights the work this great artist created early on in her career between 1958-1967. During this period, Pepper carved out a niche in her own signature sculptural language. In addition to early works, the exhibition includes works from later years: 1970-1980 and is on view through March 9, 2019.
In Yaghmai’s spare installation, viewers walk across a celery-green “tiled” floor to inspect a giant twist of encrusted metal pipe (a clever stand-in for a shed hair). A normal-sized bug zapper sits nearby, threatening now that you’re the spider. And through a curved cylinder sticking out of the wall, a looping bit of sound and light transmits a recording of Yaghmai and her brother performing a Persian song about pursuing a new life (the ultimate altered state).
The New York–based nonprofit Foundation for Contemporary Arts has named the 18 artists who will receive unrestricted grants of $40,000 in its 2019 grant cycle. The annual Grants to Artists program was established in 1993, and recipients are chosen by the foundation’s board of directors through a confidential nomination and selection process. The board includes artists Cecily Brown, Anne Collier, Jasper Johns, Jennie C. Jones, Julian Lethbridge, Glenn Ligon, Dean Moss, James Welling, and T. J. Wilcox. The board’s non-artist members are Anthony B. Creamer III, Anne Dias, and Agnes Gund. Among the visual artists selected is New York-based artist Mika Tajima.
With a title inspired by a poem by Frank O’Hara, this exhibition explores the work produced by Pepper in the 1960s and 1970s. The artist, now 96, is known for producing ebullient forms in metal — a material alluded to in O’Hara’s poem, which harks to Greek mythology and the belief that metals were gifts of the gods.
In a major shakeup in the accelerating Los Angeles art market, veteran dealer Sarah Watson has left Sprüth Magers, where she has been senior director since 2015, to become president of Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery. Two new artists are joining KGC along with Watson—Llyn Foulkes, who’s previously done shows with Sprüth Magers, and Hank Willis Thomas. The roster for the gallery, which Bill Griffin, James Corcoran, and Maggie Kayne started in 2011, also includes Mary Corse, Charles Harlan, Mary Obering, and Beverly Pepper, among others.
Walking into Rosha Yaghmai’s studio is a little bit like walking into the laboratory of a junkyard hoarder/mad scientist. There’s a distinctly pleasant organization to the vast collection of Los Angeles detritus that extends from the studio to the backlot outside. The walls are plastered with images from torn magazine pages, postcards, posters, watercolors and collage works. It’s as though you could hold a microscope to any detail in the room and discover a tiny world within. This is especially the case when viewing the centerpiece of her upcoming exhibition Miraclegrow at the Wattis Institute in San Francisco.
On a cloudless afternoon in late September, the artist James Turrell rounds the crest of a hill just below Arizona’s Sunset Crater Volcano, a national monument, slowing his gray Jeep Cherokee under its cinder cone. Black shards of ancient lava are shingled across the landscape like carbonized roof tiles. “I’ll show you how I ﬁrst saw Roden Crater,” he says, looking to the horizon and recalling the moment in 1974 that would shape his artistic career for the next 45 years.
“People always ask me why I stopped photographing people,” says Anthony Hernandez, who in the mid-1980s, moved away from the black-and-white street photographs that had made his name. He was 17 years into his career and an artist in residence at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, when he made the shift; initially thinking to photograph the infamous strip, he ended up travelling into the desert and making pictures of the left-over target shooter debris for what was to become a pivotal project, Shooting Sites.
In the second of our three-part series (don’t forget to check out part one), a new batch of culturally conscious, world-travelling curators, dealers, scholars, and institutional directors tell us about the best shows and works of art they saw this year, including Mary Corse at the Whitney Museum of American Art and Dara Friedman at PAMM.
Saturday, December 15th, 4 - 6 pm
Discussion between Liza Ryan and Sarah Lehrer-Graiwer at 4:30 pm
The Unreal Real, Liza Ryan’s fifth publication. Thirteen chapters present a collection of Ryan’s nuanced observations. Trained as a photographer and a student of literature, Ryan uses images as language as she moves fluidly between photography and video, collage and mixed media. The Unreal Real describes the otherworldly that exists in the everyday and offers a common thread of meaning throughout Ryan’s layered oeuvre. Whether documenting her experience in Antarctica or examining the repercussions of loss, Ryan’s work captures a sense of evanescence that might otherwise go unnoticed.
Fans of David Lynch’s enigmatic and surreal visual style, a hallmark of cult-classic movies Eraserhead, Blue Velvet, Muhholand Drive, and the famed TV show Twin Peaks, can see the same mysterious and unified vision in the lesser-known artworks of the American filmmaker. They’ll be on display in the Bonnefantenmuseum’s retrospective devoted to Lynch – a showcase of 400 works that date from the 1960s to present day.
The seventeenth edition of Art Basel in Miami Beach, featuring 268 galleries from thirty-five countries kicks off on Thursday, December 6, and runs through December 9. In addition to its usual roster, the fair will welcome twenty-nine galleries participating for the first time, including Kayne Griffin Corcoran.
Mary Corse, whose mostly monochrome, often reflective canvases evoke Minimalism’s more meditative side — are revealing. Corse, who resisted association with the feminist movement, insisted in a 1971 Newsweek article that if her work was good enough, it would get the attention it deserved. This article was recently reprinted in the catalog for her survey at the Whitney Museum of American Art: her first show of this scale, only a few decades delayed. Today, this belief sounds an awful lot like magical thinking, but surely this distancing was motivated by a desire not to be labeled “woman artist,” but simply, artist. Decamping from Los Angeles to the more isolated Topanga Canyon allowed Corse to focus on her work and family — and, perhaps, to avoid having to perform a public role as artist and personality.
The director's little-known work as an artist focuses on similarly eerie themes as his films do. The Dutch retrospective of Lynch's art, "Someone is in my house," takes visitors to the dark side of the American Dream.
For 19 years, Peruvian restaurant Intiraymi has occupied a corner spot on this mall, its principal marker a sign that bears a plastic chicken enveloped in plastic flame and an improvised wall of mesquite wood that stands before the front door. For 10 of those years, Peruvian American artist Eamon Ore-Giron has been a regular patron, materializing for the bountiful lunch specials ($9.95 — soup and bread included), and their well-rendered seco de cordero, lamb stew simmered in cilantro and corn beer.
All I ever wanted to do was make a painting that you could immerse yourself in,” Sarah Crowner tells me. We’re in her studio, in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. It’s early October, and the space is full of designs and props for Garden Blue, Jessica Lang’s new ballet for the American Ballet Theatre, which opens in a couple of weeks with set and costumes by Crowner. She’s just back from Pittsburgh, where two new works of hers—a 23-by-18-foot canvas and a 64-foot-long wall of handmade tiles—are appearing in the Carnegie International. In a few weeks, she’s off to Veracruz, Mexico, to christen the swimming pool she’s designed for an artists’ residency there. The pool, “two wave shapes put together but skewed,” as she says, was her response to a request for a sculpture in the landscape. “I thought, What do artists want to do after they work?” It’s a striking, mostly blue tile basin, the deck paved with pinkish, unglazed Mexican terra-cotta—hard to imagine a more immersive work of art.
Abu Dhabi Art has undergone quite considerable change since Dyala Nusseibeh took over the reins in 2016. While maintaining its small, almost boutique size, the fair’s additional elements, such as the not-for-profit exhibitions and the public programming, have grown exponentially, providing what Nusseibeh describes as “cultural entertainment." Of the 43 spaces in attendance, Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran, will be making its Middle Eastern debut with a stunning solo show by American artist James Turrell.
The Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran decided to bring work by fellow Dia-affiliated Minimalists Mary Corse and James Turrell. Director Beatrice Shen said Turrell had an exhibition at Shanghai’s Long Museum in January 2017 that sparked interest in his work among local collectors.
When film grinds to a halt, you have photography—but painting comes just as close to the prosody of all those stalled sports cars, hermetic and inert—the way David Lynch might paint them as black cartoons.
David Lynch’s 11 works at Kayne Griffin Corcoran give intimate form to the insecurities of adolescence, especially as they echo in the memories of adults who may not have outgrown them.
Lynch pares down the outlandish sensationalism of his best-known work in film and television, presenting lone characters and strange creatures in monochromatic landscapes. Still, the scenes are unmistakably Lynchian, tinged with a surrealist, macabre, and often hallucinatory tone.
As with her previous work for Ballet Theater, “Her Notes,” the visual element is crucial. Ms. Lang likes to collaborate closely with visual artists — their vision stimulates her imagination. This new work is a kind of a nature study, she said, inspired by the paintings of her collaborator, Sarah Crowner, a visual artist who lives in Brooklyn.
Floor 3, Susan and John Hess Family Gallery and Theater
This symposium brings together artists, curators, and scholars to discuss Mary Corse’s work and her innovative engagements with the medium of painting. Topics to be considered include: materials and luminosity, contingency and vision, and new perspectives on artistic practices of the 1960s and 70s.
The program is co-organized by the Whitney and Dia Art Foundation and planned in conjunction with the concurrent presentations of Corse's work.
Session 1: Paint and Painting, 1–2:15 pm | Session 2: Considering the 1960s, 2:30–3:45 pm | Session 3: Light and Seeing, 4–5:15 pm | Reception , 5:30 pm
Nina Johnson Gallery is pleased to present Funnel of Love, an exhibition of new and vintage works by legendary artist, potter, and designer Peter Shire. With a rambunctious, irreverent group of objects, Funnel of Love showcases Shire’s unique position in the worlds of art and design—a role of historic importance, and constant exploration. The exhibition will open with a public reception on October 6th from 7pm to 9pm and remain on view until October 24th.
‘MARY CORSE’ at Dia:Beacon in Beacon, N.Y., and ‘MARY CORSE: A SURVEY IN LIGHT’ at the Whitney Museum of American Art (through Nov. 25). Light, and specifically the radiant light of Los Angeles, shaped Ms. Corse’s career. She became interested not just in representing light, but also in making objects that emitted or reflected it. This duo of shows features her light boxes — or “light paintings” — made with argon gas and Tesla coils, as well as her paintings on canvas that include glass microspheres, like those used in the lines that divide highway lanes. Both shows are overdue representations for Ms. Corse, who was an early member of the loosely defined Light and Space movement of the 1960s and ’70s in California.
The brilliant interplay of light, texture, material and technology in the work of the Light and Space artist Mary Corse can only be fully appreciated in person. The Whitney Museum of American Art has given the 72-year-old her first solo museum retrospective, Mary Corse: a Survey in Light (until 25 November). It highlights key moments of experimentation across five decades, such as light boxes, which Corse began to make in 1966. Two years later, the artist was able to make these works free and floating, after she took physics classes and developed a technique to power and ionise the argon gas in neon tubes using Tesla coils. In the 1960s, she also began to experiment with utilitarian glass microspheres, more commonly used on roadways, to harness and refract light on the surface of her paintings, which she still uses today, applied over white paint in wide vertical bands. A painting might look perfectly flat and monochrome from one angle, but from another, the microbeads light up in alternating stripes that show the swooping brushstrokes.
It was in Los Angeles that James Turrell first recognized the kinds of perceptual acuity possible in smoggy, irradiated air. His first light projects—experiments with incandescence filtering through jerry-rigged apertures in his Santa Monica studio in 1966—were harbingers of his subsequent tests of the fugitive, natural environment in increasingly architectural terms. His long-standing embrace by the city is understandable, but his apotheosis will unfold elsewhere: in an extinct volcano in the Painted Desert northeast of Flagstaff, Arizona, for the forty-year project of Roden Crater, a celestial-observatory complex. In his most recent presentation at Kayne Griffin Corcoran (his seventh with the gallery), Turrell was framed not as a conjurer of immaterial experience but as a builder or, at minimum, a designer of structures in support of this ambition. Appropriately set in the sprawling exhibition site capped by a permanent “Skyspace” Turrell installed when the gallery opened its current location in 2013, his eponymous show suggested the import of his built forms, represented in diminutive prototypes and tabletop maquettes alongside wall-bound renderings on Mylar.
Many of his newest paintings, collected in the exhibition “I Was a Teenage Insect,” are now at Kayne Griffin Corcoran through Nov. 3. (A series of his lithographs, “David Lynch: Dreams — A Tribute to Fellini,” are at the Fellini Foundation at the Maison du Diable in Sion, Switzerland, through Dec. 16.) The “Teenage Insect” pieces are large mixed-media works of what he calls “childlike distortion,” filled with mystery, terror and bliss, and occasional words scrawled across the canvas.
Consider the Los Angeles-based light artist Mary Corse, 73, who since the 1960s has worked largely without the acclaim granted her male peers, including Turrell and Dan Flavin (though that recently has changed with her first solo museum survey at the Whitney and a new permanent Dia: Beacon exhibition of several works). The Tet Offensive was barely over and students were storming the Democratic National Convention in Chicago when she began “The Cold Room” (1968-2017), an immersive environment in which a wireless light box hangs in temperatures chilled to near freezing — the better to focus the viewer’s mind on the light itself.
In 1971, the artist Mary Obering moved from Colorado to Soho, at the height of the neighbourhood’s transformation into an artist haven. Nearly 50 years later, the celebrated painter appears in her first solo show at Kayne Griffin Corcoran in Los Angeles, after the gallery began representing her earlier this year.
The work of artist Charles Harlan, a native of Smyrna, GA, now based in Brooklyn, often provokes a quizzical response from viewers. By sculpturally combining industrial materials or reorienting objects to defy their logical function, Harlan poses philosophical riddles through a series of precarious conceptual balancing acts. (In the case of his work Birdbath, on view at Atlanta Contemporary through December 15 in his solo exhibition “Language of the Birds,” this balancing act is also quite literal: a stone birdbath tips a massive, fiberglass baptismal pool to one side, pinning it to the ground.) Despite the potential headiness of such acts of appropriation, the materials’ humble familiarity saves Harlan’s sculptures from being overly cold or self-referential, instead creating a playful opportunity for the viewer to wonder how and why they were made.
My joke is that, in one of my lectures, I should come out in a coffin with my hand over the edge, pop up and go, “I’m baaaaack.” Memphis is one of the most important design movements of the 20th century. It’s not that it’s having a resurgence: It never went anywhere. Everybody involved has been keeping the flame. It’s not only an ongoing history, but it’s an ongoing part of history. Maybe it seems like it’s come back to the people who’ve just found it.
David Lynch, a painting student in 1967 at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia, was working on an all-black painting of a night garden when he sensed that a wind, mysteriously generated from within the canvas, stirred the leaves he had just rendered. The direction this apprehension would suggest to him is now history: David Lynch the painter became David Lynch the filmmaker.
Lynch had been making paintings, many of them depicting his nightmarish version of American suburbia, for two decades, though he was known then entirely for his films, among them the 1977 cult favorite Eraserheadand the 1986 absurdist murder mystery Blue Velvet. When Castelli gave Lynch a solo show at his SoHo gallery in 1989, the rest of the New York art world took its first look at the by-then-notable filmmaker’s paintings—though with reactions that split. One critic writing for Artforum called the show “eye-opening,” while Roberta Smith, in the New York Times, called the paintings “familiar, unoriginal, and slick.”
Peter Shire, the only American member of the Memphis group in the 1980s, has been working out of his Echo Park atelier for decades, producing huge numbers of colorful artworks that blur the line between domestic objects and abstract sculpture. His work was the centerpiece of the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984. Recently, he received well-deserved recognition for his shows at MOCA in 2017 and at Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery this year. We met him in his massive studio on Echo Park Avenue.
There are truthful stereotypes embodied in Los Angeles. Two are particularly instructive for looking at Anthony Hernandez’s recent photographs: The first is how your social position in this vast metropolis is defined by mobility, through your movement through the sprawl. The second is that this is truly a city driven by images.
A work like Yaghmai's evokes this SoCal artistic past in its use of translucent plastics, washes of colored light, and a commanding and minimal central structure – a large folding screen – that encourages perambulation. But from here, the artist refreshes the tropes of the 1960s “L.A. look.”
Every morning, L.A.-based artist Peter Shire starts his day with a cup of coffee he makes here in his studio, a ritual he regularly extends to his studio staff—and anyone who visits. Any guests lucky enough to partake will find themselves surrounded by canoes strung from the ceiling, stacks of ceramic sculptures, and white open shelves filled with colorful mugs.
Since the 1960s, James Turrell, the 75-year-old American artist who studied perceptual psychology, has been fixated on light and all the ways he can manipulate it with space and color. But the power of Turrell’s work—most often large-scale installations—is that it’s all about you, the viewer. "My work is not so much about my seeing as about your seeing. There is no one between you and your experience,” says the legendary orchestrator of light whose permanent installations you can find in 29 countries. An avid pilot with a lifelong fascination in merging earth and sky, Turrell considers his studio and canvas the sky, his medium pure light. The artist is best known for his Skyspaces, chambers open to the heavens through an aperture in the ceiling. These observatories—much like all of his work—are designed to be places of contemplative thought. So what are you looking at? Turrell throws it back to you: “You are looking at you looking. What is important to me is to create an experience of wordless thought.” So step into the light: From a meditation house deep in Japan’s countryside to a former mattress factory in Pittsburgh, AD uncovers the most unusual places around the world to see James Turrell’s art installations.
As with the summer swelling of Kudzu that blankets much of the roadside landscape of the Southeastern United States, the physical world is layered and writhing with evidence of the passing of time. In the colder months, the plant goes dormant in retreat, allowing a withered view of the hidden mysteries where few people tramp around. And for all the efforts of herbicide manufacturers and users of landscaping equipment, the vine enthusiastically grows back again with warm seasons, stirring controversy along the paved lines of highways and roadways – the flat, human counterpart to the shapely contours of form Kudzu billows into. The Kudzu plant, a legume prolific in its intricate, rhizomatic system of growth, has been banned by some countries for its invasive tendencies, suggesting a very mixed historical relationship between itself and those humans who have variously propagated it for its beneficial qualities - such as its medicinal and culinary use, potential for soil improvement and so forth - and those who have slashed feverishly at its vigorous new shoots of green in attempts to quell the lush sprawl. Identifying it as a vile weed or a miracle vine might be a question of perspective or semantics, but it does seem the plant illustrates a taut and tightly interwoven link between humankind and the surrounding natural world.
For “People of the Book” an act of obedience is of the utmost importance: to wash away or bury an old life of sin. Followers descend one stair case as a sign of admission, of fallibility; in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the believer is immersed in the cleansing water, they then ascend the other side clean, born again. With Birdbath (2018) Charles Harlan portrays two moments of transformational baptisms: the grand: represented by a brilliant blue fiberglass baptism pool, slanted toward the sky; and the traditional: handmade bird bath. Despite its size the synthetic pool feels manageably light, while the density of the stone birdbath acts as an anchor, grounding the would-be flight.
Harlan’s practice is psychical. Mining found and industrial materials, Harlan’s sculptures highlight the grandeur of the everyday. Be it barbed wire or bricks, stones or trees plucked directly from the ground, by scaling up these utilitarian artifacts they command a new reverence. He fuses old and new, abstraction and fragmentation, personal narratives and moments too important, too pure to communicate. The ritual and experience collapse his past with our present, each symbiotic of the other.
This exhibition is sponsored by Kayne Griffin Corcoran, Los Angeles and Vickery Hardware, Smyrna.
Mary Corse: A Survey in Light at the Whitney Museum is the first sustained look offered by a New York museum at a California painter who, until recently, lacked the consideration warranted by her unique painterly commitment to the Light and Space movement. Corse’s active presence in the movement’s seminal late 1960s exhibitions, and her career-long focus on light as a subject, should have netted her full recognition as a contributor, yet her position in the group grew marginal. As recently as 2011, her exclusion in a 250-page coffee table publication called The Art of Light and Space was briefly addressed by author Jan Butterfield as having to do with her choice to remain a painter, “rather than an artist concerned with room environments.” (That Bruce Nauman’s dabbling in light effects received full attention in Butterfield’s book challenges the wisdom of this logic.)
Artist Mika Tajima—whose reliably alluring work examines the interplay between science, corporate design, financial markets, emotions, tools of control, art history, and quite a few more topics—is now represented by the Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran.
In 1968, while driving in Malibu at night, Corse realized that the reflective glass microspheres used to paint lines on roads held untapped potential, and the tiny beads became the defining material of her career-spanning “White Light” series: big color-field paintings that appear to morph with the slightest shift of vantage point, their brushstrokes emerging and disappearing in satiny expanses that abut crisp panels of matte acrylic paint. These shimmering works are impossible to capture in photographs—a breathtaking antidote to Instagram bait.
I am leaning back against a teak-paneled banquette, watching a cotton ball pelican drift across the sky. Thirty or so strangers, sat around the perimeter of this square-shaped room, all have their eyes fixed on a rectangular hole in the ceiling—like a high-def TV with one strange channel. The mood is hushed, almost ecclesiastical. A computer-programmed cycle of LEDs starts up, bathing the interior in chartreuse (mood-lifting, some say), fuchsia (energizing), and a blue-gray so pale it makes the sky look wan. A tiny plane zips through the lower left corner of the frame, like an errant summer fly. Finally, I think to myself—because there is suddenly so much space to think—I have found my meditation chapel.
Among the largest contemporary art museums in America, MASS MoCA's vast, varied and continually changing collection has long drawn art and culture lovers from the world over to the small Massachusetts town of North Adams. With the site hosting a multitude of festivals and one-off events alongside holding an impressive collection of works from the likes of James Turrell and Jenny Holzer, there is invariably much to see - even if every visit is different.
Rosha Yaghmai began her artistic career making photographs. But experiments in the darkroom soon found her eager to switch gears, incorporating other materials to create multidimensional installations. “The flatness of photography prohibited me from exploring the one-to-one relationship a viewer can have with the three-dimensional object,” she said.
In a previous interview, Corse emphasized that she “never saw art as a career,” and that she “always painted for [her] sanity.” Now, at age 73, the market is coming around to her regardless—and in a big way, as proven in this week’s news that Pace will represent her in Hong Kong, Beijing, and Seoul. Similar to the international arrangement announced between Corse and Lisson Gallery in London last year, Pace will work with her in collaboration with Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran
This program considers Mary Corse's experiments with painting by examining process, materials, and forms. Artist and writer David Reed and Kim Conaty, Steven and Ann Ames Curator of Drawings and Prints and curator of the exhibition Mary Corse: A Survey in Light, discuss Corse's practice in front of the works themselves.
Ticket holders are invited to view the exhibition beginning at 6:30 pm.
Tickets are required ($12 adults; $10 for members, students, and seniors).
Kristine McKenna admits at the outset of Room to Dream that she and David Lynch have come up with an approach to life writing “that some might find strange”. This hybrid form combines memoir and biography: each of McKenna’s chapters is followed by one by Lynch on the same years, “having a conversation with his own biography”. Clearly this highlights the subjectivity of experience and the inadequacy of life writing, but it could also compromise a biographer’s freedom to speak frankly about her subject. Nevertheless, Room to Dream is a memorable portrait of one of cinema’s great auteurs.
The Museum Frieder Burda in Baden-Baden, Germany is currently hosting a major retrospective on prolific American artist, James Turrell. The comprehensive showcase presents several of Turrell’s spatial illusions, light installations, and groundbreaking projections including Sloan Red where “geometric light objects appear to float in space,” said the institution. To celebrate the exhibit, German publisher Hatje Cantz is documenting the artist’s monumental works into one volume book entitled Extraordinary Ideas-Realized.
American artist James Turrell is no stranger to Australia. His light works have been included in many museum shows, most significantly his 2014 retrospective at the National Gallery of Australia, as well as the permanent Skyspace, Within Without (2010) also in Canberra. Turrell's work also features in architectural installations at the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Hobart. Now a new commission in Brisbane for the Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) is garnering international attention.
The long-awaited James Turrell light installation has finally launched at Brisbane’s Gallery of Modern Art. The gallery threw the switch on the Night Life 2018 last night. It will now illuminate the eastern and southern façades of GOMA every evening, with shifting patterns of coloured light from sunset to midnight.
I am standing in Mary Corse’s studio, a large white box with a sloping flat roof that she built two years ago beside her home in Topanga Canyon, just a few minutes north of Santa Monica. She has lived on the same secluded property, first with her two sons and now alone, since 1970. One side of the studio is given over almost entirely to sliding glass doors which frame a stunning view of the Santa Monica mountains, green with chaparral and live oaks, with ochre rocks jutting in between.
While Minimal artists abandoned painting, finding the category too restrictive, Corse believed the medium could be expanded beyond the flat canvas. One of the most fascinating aspects of Corse’s practice is her refusal to confine the medium of painting to a specific material base. She considers all her works paintings, from her shaped canvases, to three-dimensional constructions, to electric light boxes, to clay tiles, defining painting as any work that generates an optical experience of light.
Not so much a city as an unevenly populated, multi-centered megalopolis, and not so much a year as a point in an escalating concatenation of national and global crises, there might seem to be no possible way to get “Made in L.A. 2018” right. Add to that the divisions within LA’s art community that mirror many of the historically entrenched divisions within the city itself—between east and west, north and south, white and non-white, gentrified and gentrifying, young and no longer young, left and far left.
Shire was born in 1947 in Echo Park. His mother was a fourth-generation Californian and his father was a talented illustrator and carpenter. He yearned to be an artist from a young age, and later enrolled in the famed and now-defunct Chouinard Art Institute – although he was initially rejected from art school. ‘I am a maker of things, a hand-skills guy, so ceramics was my romantic vision. I wanted to be a potter wearing funky sandals and an apron,’ he told the Los Angeles Times in 2007.
David Lynch is an artist and filmmaker based in Los Angeles, USA. This autumn, he will present an exhibition of new works at Kayne Griffin Corcoran, Los Angeles. Last year, his television show Twin Peaks: The Return aired on Showtime in the US.
The Art Dealers Association of America, a nonprofit industry group that deals with issues of connoisseurship, ethics, scholarship, and public policy within the art market, has added five new member galleries—Honor Fraser Gallery (from Los Angeles), Kayne Griffin Corcoran (Los Angeles), Jessica Silverman Gallery (San Francisco), Franklin Parrasch Gallery (New York), and Venus Over Manhattan (New York).
It has been 11 art-filled years since Brisbane's Gallery of Modern Art first opened its doors, and the creative riverside hub just keeps going from strength to strength. Over the past year, Yayoi Kusama, Gerhard Richter and Patricia Piccinini exhibitions have all taken on the space, and now GOMA is preparing to unveil its illuminating new permanent work: a brand new light installation by artist James Turrell.
Peter Shire’s splash mugs, scorpion teapots, and Big Sur sofas are at the intersection of craft and industrial design. Their palette is sun-bleached – peachy, pink and lime – an aesthetic drawn equally from Art Deco, Bauhaus and his native Echo Park, LA. He trained as a ceramicist at the Chouinard Institute and then opened his own studio in 1972. It was f ive years later that Ettore Sottsass, founder of the Memphis Group of Design, sought Shire out and invited him to Milan. In the following years, Shire’s Brazil table (1981) and Bel Air chair (1982) were to become iconic Memphis pieces, an aesthetic splice of Space Age architecture, Milanese craftsmanship, and the purest LA kitsch. Shire’s work has been described as post-pottery, postmodern, hypermodern in excess. Memphis was critiqued in its day as the worst kind of garish, and for toying with aesthetic taboos – the very opposite of form follows function. Today, by contrast, it’s become a symbol of high taste, and Shire is sought by collectors around the world.
Stijn Huijts, director of the Bonnefanten, believes that Lynch’s point of view is remarkably consistent across media. “It is always about the idea that there are more realities and dimensions of existence than just one,” Huijts says. “Both in the films and in the other visual art of Lynch, the subconscious is an important well that feeds the creative process. The sphere of darkness and dread that is evoked by the films reoccurs in the art works.”
“What was wrong with people back then?” the artist Joan Jonas said. “Couldn’t anyone see?” The multimedia pioneer was at Dia: Beacon and talking about 1968, the date on a transfixing, white-light sculpture by Mary Corse. How had such a radiant work stayed under the art world radar for so long?
Soft pastel light dances through the darkened space. Small personal objects, some of them incongruous such as hanging fishing lures, cast shadows. Titled Slide Samples (Lures, Myths), it uses photographic slides taken by her father, who immigrated to California from Tehran to study architecture. The piece is not literal but impressionistic about the integration of experience, memory and the past.
Corse’s paintings and sculptures adopt infinite permutations as one stands in front of them. At a particular moment, from a specific position, the viewer sees a unique configuration of brightened and flattened patches. Looking becomes a deeply individual, meditative experience that generates ideas about acceptance, change, and the fleeting nature of all things.
With a recent gallery installation at Dia:Beacon and an upcoming solo show at the Whitney in New York, Mary Corse is having a significant, well-earned moment of recognition. Working as a dedicated artist since the 1960s, she is one of few women connected to California’s west coast Light and Space movement. Directionally, though, her artistic focus contrasted with her Light and Space peers. “I’m not a landscape artist, the literal aspects of the environment don’t influence me,” says Corse. “I’m not influenced by the outside world at all, really. I would paint the same in New York as California. It’s an internal impulse to paint the way that I do.”
What kind of art and music festival has a dedicated space for transcendental meditation? One curated by artist and filmmaker David Lynch, of course. This weekend, the Festival of Disruption arrives in Brooklyn (after a 2016 outing in Los Angeles), with a fulsome lineup of exhibitions, screenings, talks, musical performances, and, from 10am to 8pm on both days of the festival, a comfortable lounge for transcending. Appropriately, proceeds from the entire affair will benefit the David Lynch Foundation, which advocates for the therapeutic and restorative power of transcendental meditation.
“A Survey in Light” is Mary Corse’s first solo museum survey, which arrives at the Whitney Museum of American Art on June 8, 2018. The curious works pay tribute to the artist’s studies in physics but also her enormous talent as an artist. Works from throughout Corse’s career feature in the exhibition that runs until November 25, 2018.
The survey will bring together for the first time Corse’s key bodies of work—including her early shaped canvases, freestanding sculptures, and light encasements that she engineered in the mid-1960s, in her early twenties, as well as her breakthrough White Light paintings, begun in 1968, and the Black Earth series that she initiated after moving in 1970 from downtown Los Angeles to Topanga Canyon, where she lives and works today.
“Mother Drum” is organized into three sections, presented in a continuous loop with no discernible beginning or end. The transitions between sections are sometimes seamless, with overlapping melodies or superimposed footage projected across a long screen. Other interludes are more abrupt, with fields of color or sudden breaks in the soundtrack.
Corse has been fixated with imbuing art with light since she was a student in the 1960s, a quest that has caused her to study quantum physics as well as pioneer new forms and media in art-making. Regardless, she has never been the subject of a major solo show—until now.
It's rare for an artist to receive her first solo museum show 50 years after accepting her BFA. It’s nearly unheard of for such an artist’s first two solo museum shows to open within a month of one another, at two of the most august institutions in New York. But that’s the story with Mary Corse. The first of her long-deserved twin openings happened yesterday at Dia :Beacon , where eight works by Corse are now on long-term view until at least 2021. Although the pieces range from her signature paintings embedded with light-refracting glass microspheres to shimmering clay tiles fired in an enormous kiln designed and built by the artist in the 1970s, the exhibition shows the surprising diversity in Corse’s mission to, in her words, "put the light in the painting"—and welcome viewers into an active conversation with the mysteries of their own perceptions.
A pioneer of light-based art, Mary Corse is one of the few women associated with the Light and Space movement that originated in Southern California in the 1960s. Throughout her career Corse has experimented with different ways to physically imbue her paintings with light. Her techniques have included the use of electric light, ceramic tiles, and glass microspheres, with which she creates simple geometric configurations that give structure to the luminescent internal space of her paintings. This focused presentation of Corse’s painting, examines her treatment of internal compositional space—using geometric form in juxtaposition with gestural brushwork—from the 1960s to the present. These works open themselves up to their environment, reflecting and refracting light, and invite a perceptual encounter that is grounded in both vision and movement.
The Whitney retrospective will highlight Corse’s key moments of experimentation across five decades. “It’s tightly focused on when she comes upon a new material or new structure that helps her play out her ideas of light and how one might find light inside the canvas,” says Kim Conaty, the exhibition’s curator.
Given Mary Corse’s consistent, multi-decade creative output, this museum survey, the artist’s first, is “long overdue”—really a tired euphemism for the consequences of exclusionary gender politics (and a belated apotheosis of art from the Southland, and not just, though especially, for women). The exhibition promises to assemble exemplars from her early shaped canvases, freestanding sculptures, and light encasements made with Tesla-coil-based generators of Corse’s own design, as well as of the nontechnological but still perceptually fugitive White Light paintings, begun in 1968, and the Black Earth works that she started after moving from downtown Los Angeles to Topanga Canyon in 1970. This exhibition will showcase Corse’s experiments with the legacies of modernist painting, but will also foreground her use of decidedly unconventional materials (e.g., metallic flakes and glass microspheres) to open modernism’s often-hermetic surfaces to place, light, time, and possibility.
The best use of large scale: Charles Harlan’s booth, presented by JTT and Kayne Griffin Corcoran, in the Focus section. His “Birdbath” is a bright blue fiberglass baptism pool, tilted downward, as if toward hell, by an old-fashioned, handmade bird bath.
The New York–based painter Mary Obering, whose elegant, sumptuous geometric abstractions imbue the spare language of Minimalism with the techniques of the Renaissance, is now represented by the Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran, which will present a one-person show of her work in September. (Those heading to Frieze New York through Sunday will also find her work on offer at the gallery’s booth.)
Mary Corse is having a big year, with exhibitions this summer at Dia: Beacon and the Whitney Museum that celebrate her unrivaled ability to paint with light. At Frieze, Kaye Griffin Corcoran has a stunner from the “Black Earth” series—huge clay tiles so glossy that from different perspectives the viewer could be looking into a bubbling abyss of tar, the side of a mountain, or into a tumultuous sea. In stark contrast to the impenetrable blackness of Corse’s work are the luminous, almost weightless circular glassworks on view from James Turrell.
Charles Harlan’s solo booth at Frieze New York began with a road trip. One that the New York-based artist was still recovering from when I met him at his Red Hook studio in early April. His haul, a new baptistry from an online church supplier in Roanoke, Alabama, greeted me at the door. Although the plastic tub was originally designed as a cleansing pool for adults and babies alike, its jacuzzi-like shape felt more pagan than protestant. For me, it brought to mind a cartoon of an Aztec temple with its two sets of descending stairs—a resemblance that only grew stronger when the artist tipped it to show me the upright posture it would take at the fair. “It’s going to be anchored by a birdbath,” he explained pointing to another ready-made component, a simple stone bath he picked up at Olde New England Reclamation. “I like this doubling of baptismal images. First us and then the birds.”
As you’re floating through Frieze art fair in New York this May, you may notice what appears to be a baptistery jutting out of a booth. This is thanks to Kayne Griffin Corcoran and JTT, who are jointly presenting Brooklyn-based artist Charles Harlan as a part of Frieze Focus. Provocative in its contextual implications, Harlan’s chapel can be read as a continuation of his explorations into the way architecture holds meaning—as well as space.
My friends and family help me to persevere. The CalArts network helped me to find my way through the muck, to be around artists that are my heroes. The access to industrial and specialty materials, because of the movie business, is incredible. I love to learn about various craft processes, and I love the endless fake versions of everything. There are so many worlds in Los Angeles—growing up here, I was able to exist in many of them. That elasticity of experience and perspective is central to all of my work.
Shire’s collapse of the art object with its functional use is a reminder that most pre-modern art objects have their origin in ritual. From chalices used by European religious orders to African figural sculptures, these objects were used in rituals that connect the participant to a larger social and spiritual worldview: a function that is lost when they are brought into the museum. In a sense, Shire alludes to this loss by making art objects that are used in everyday life, challenging a system where art objects are to be viewed and contemplated but never touched.
Hidden between the high-rises, the traffic jams, the signs promoting Miami’s Brickell neighborhood as though it’s a lifestyle — between all this energy-draining commotion — there’s an almost-secret, nourishing, and quiet space. The “Well of Ancient Mysteries” is a small spring in a bed of limestone. You have to kneel on the craggy, coral-encrusted rock to reach it. Scoop the water into your palms and it hits your tongue with a bright, bursting alacrity: cold, mineral-y, fresh. It tastes clean.
Downtown Manhattan was the center of the art world in the early ’80s, but 15 years on, most of the artists and galleries had left. These are the people who stayed.
On the East Coast, art institutions are also recognizing the vast contributions of California-born artists; the Whitney Museum is dedicating a career retrospective to Corse, who is known as a pioneering figure in the West Coast Art and Light movement, while just outside the city Dia:Beacon will also host a selection of Corse’s abstract works, opening in May.
This June, the Whitney Museum of American Art will debut Mary Corse: A Sruvey in Light, the first museum survey devoted to the work of Mary Corse (born 1945, Berkelely, CA; lives and works in Topanga, CA). One of the few women associated with the West Coast Light and Space movement of the 1960's, Corse shared with her contemporary a deep fascination with perception and with the possiblity that light itself could serve as both a subject and material of art.
Kayne Griffin Corcoran presents their spring 2018 programming with Peter Shire: Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture in the Main Gallery.
The Los Angeles photographer, known for his unblinking images of the Southern California landscape, is one of several dozen artists, scholars, writers and scientists across the United States to receive 2018 Guggenheim Fellowships — the complete list of which is expected to be released Thursday morning. “It’s terrific,” says Hernandez. “[Photographer Edward] Weston was my first hero, and he got one of the first ones. A lot of my friends have gotten them. And I finally got one.” He’ll use the grant on a series of works in which he shoots images of Los Angeles and other locales through a screen that renders ordinary corners of the urban landscape as abstracted fields of dots. “They’re very ambiguous,” he says of the new work. “You’re not quite sure what they’re made of or what you are looking at.”
Peter Shire, noted local sculptor and ceramicist known for his zany post-modern teapots and his connection to the 1980s Memphis design movement, will be showing some new work at Kayne Griffin Corcoran called “Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture.”
Maggie Kayne, the Los Angeles–born art dealer, who also serves as a founding cochair of the Hammer Museum’s Hammer Circle and as a member of LACMA’s Director’s Circle, says she’s proud to provide a platform for female artists to showcase their work and hopes her gallery is seen as a powerful ally to women art professionals globally.
I have travelled to many out-of-the-way places but the Antarctic landscape, or my imagined Antarctica, has been on my mind for as long as I can remember. It was like a mythical place that was rumored to be real. I visited Antarctica two years ago in January and feel like a part of me is still there.
Decorated artist Peter Shire is the subject of an upcoming exhibition in Los Angeles. The unusual exhibition, titled “Drawings, Impossible Teapots, Furniture & Sculpture,” will be presented at the Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery. The mixed-media show opens on April 5, 2018.
Berlin’s Jewish Museum has been given an immersive light work by James Turrell from his “Ganzfeld” series. The US artist’s blue-hued Aural is an iconic walk-in installation that completely submerges the viewer in a light field. It was donated to the institution by the German collectors Dieter and Si Rosenkranz.
Iconic American artist James Turrell is donating one of his immersive light installations to the Jewish Museum in Berlin. Featured in his “Ganzfeld” series, Turrell’s blue-colored Aural installation will allow museum-goers to be completely inundated with sprawling fields of light.
One buyer, Thomas Yamamoto, even hopped a flight from Shanghai to New York early to peep a painting in person that he’d bought after seeing just a photo of it. The work in question is a fetching white monochrome from 2011 by Mary Corse, a foundational figure in the male-dominated Light and Space movement started in 1960s Los Angeles.
Despite coinciding with the London auctions, TEFAF Maastricht, and a snow storm, the 24th edition of The Armory Show still proved a success for many dealers, highlighting the continued importance of American collectors in the art market.
Corse treats light as a subject and material of her paintings, activating them by using refractive glass microspheres that are common in highway paint. The Whitney Museum of American Art in New York will stage Corse’s first solo museum survey in June. The artist’s paintings from the 1960s to the present will be on display starting in May at Dia Art Foundation in Beacon, New York.
Mary Corse’s works with glittering highway paint at Kayne Griffin Corcoran (502), a run-up to shows at Dia:Beacon and at the Whitney Museum of American Art
A sense of heaviness was immediately palpable in Takayama’s show at Kayne Griffin Corcoran. Upon entrance into the expansive, light-filled modern gallery, one was confronted by Untitled (2018), one of the exhibition’s two enormous sculptures. The work is among the largest in Takayama’s oeuvre. More than 100 railroad ties were painted black and assembled in the center of the room, commandeering the entire space.
The exquisitely designed Kayne Griffin Corcoran gallery is worth a visit for its setting alone, with the exterior walls lushly festooned with ivy. Artists shown here include big-hitters like James Turrell, Beverly Pepper and Mary Corse, along with superstar creatives such as film and television auteur David Lynch. kaynegriffincorcoran.com
“My initial impression was one of suspended belief because I had no point of reference for what I saw. The scene from the ship felt like a backdrop for a movie or theater,” she says. Only on further inspection, when Ryan boarded a kayak and actually entered into the landscape, did the utterly foreign scene begin to make sense. “It’s almost like you have to touch it to believe it’s real,” she says.
The Hammer Museum announced the artist lineup for its “Made in L.A. 2018” on Tuesday, and the key word for the museum’s fourth biennial is “responsive,” curators Anne Ellegood and Erin Christovale said.
“Drawn Into Form: Sixty Years of Drawings and Prints by Beverly Pepper” showcases 70 of the over 900 unseen works from Pepper’s collection.
Spanning seven decades of work, this extraordinary gift from Pepper, one of the pioneering Contemporary sculptors, includes hundreds of drawings, prints, works on paper and notebooks – many containing sketches of her major sculptural endeavors. This exhibition runs through April 19, 2018.
Rosha has been using color therapy glasses for years now. I tried on a pair and while they may or may not alter a mood, they certainly transform the view, making common sights seem more apparent and extraordinary.
Flying in the face of contemporary tendencies toward cool cynicism and overproduction, Dara Friedman offers a compact but dense oeuvre that crackles with intensity. Above all, there is an undercurrent of openness and earnestness, a radical sort of emotional availability,” writes René Morales, the curator of Friedman’s first comprehensive retrospective at Pérez Art Museum Miami.
Jutting out into the Derwent, Pharos has something of a secret chamber about it. You enter at the back of Mona’s current exhibition, the Museum of Everything, through a black cloth. And there it is, a corridor and column of light. This is the first of the Turrell works, titled Beside Myself.
Los Angeles was recently crowned as the artist capital of the world—boasting more working artists than even New York!—and it has the gallery scene to match. From your heavy-hitter white cube venues to grungy underground artist-run spaces, the city has it all.
“Mary’s work eschews easy categorization,” says Alexis Lowry, an associate curator at Dia. “As early as 1966, she was making light-based work that was as advanced as anything by more recognizable figures like Doug Wheeler or James Turrell. But she was also radically different, using paint to harness light and make space within her paintings that extends beyond the physical.”
In conjunction with the exhibition Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger, PAMM presents a special screening of Friedman's short film Ishmael and the Well of Ancient Mysteries (2014), which will be shown continuously throughout the day in the museum's auditorium.
For years, artist Liza Ryan has carried a camera with her wherever she goes, taking photographs all over her adopted hometown of Los Angeles. But two years ago, when she travelled by sea to Antarctica to celebrate her 50th birthday, fulfilling a life-long dream, she was stymied, unable to shoot. “I felt almost trapped,” she says, overwhelmed by the monumental gap between her own small figure and the frozen, otherworldly, glacial landscape.
A stone’s throw from the sensory overload of Elvis-themed wedding chapels and mega-shows on the Vegas Strip (not to mention such special pleasures as swim-up blackjack), hides an appointment-only James Turrell installation titled Akhob. Occupying the entire top floor of the Louis Vuitton Maison City Center, this permanent work—something of an ocular spa—holds no more than six people at a time and operates on a 25-minute cycle.
There’s a lovely juxtaposition in the way we view and absorb the 16 videos and films in Dara Friedman’s mid-career retrospective currently at Pérez Art Museum Miami. While much of what is projected on screen are compositions of bodies in motion — free-style dancing, singing, performing — an unmistakable precision and attention to detail become part of the visual experience when moving through the galleries of “Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger.”
Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park in western Michigan is preparing to open an exhibition of sculptor Beverly Pepper’s print and drawing archives. “Drawn Into Form: Sixty Years of Drawings and Prints by Beverly Pepper ” will be on display for a few months starting Feb. 2 at the Grand Rapids attraction.
Mark Handforth is another Miami-based artist we’ve commissioned, and I’ve known him forever. His outdoor sculpture, a star twisted out of an illuminated street-light pole, will be on long-term view."
The exclusive exhibition is the first public showing of the gift of Pepper’s expansive print and drawing archives that was given to Meijer Gardens in 2016 and 2017. The collection spans seven decades of work and includes hundreds of drawings, prints, works on paper and notebooks – many containing sketches of her major sculptural endeavors.
Dara Friedman’s three-channel video installation Mother Drum(2016) is projected onto a single wall in Gallery 5 in a continuous loop that interweaves footage of individual dancers, groups of drummers, and animals.
The Aspen exhibition follows the opening of "Dara Friedman: Perfect Stranger" last month at the Perez Art Museum Miami, which marked the first career survey of the German-born, Miami-based video artist's career. It drew national attention from the art world and included "Mother Drum" along with works dating back to 1991.
The first solo museum survey of distinguished Californian artist Mary Corse is featuring at the Whitney Museum, as it announces its “New Exhibitions on the Horizon for 2018”. The show opens in New York next year and will explore the expansive and unique works that Corse has created throughout her career.
The German-born, Miami-based artist Dara Friedman, whose first mid-career survey, Perfect Stranger, is on now at the Pérez Art Museum Miami (until 4 March), combines painstaking production methods with the raw heat of emotion in her works.
The Louisiana-born painter Mary Obering still lives and works in the loft on Wooster Street that she's owned since the early 1970s. It's one of those mythic New York stories, where an artist buys an industrial space downtown for so little that it would be maddening to even mention. For decades, Obering has been producing her boldlyhued geometric paintings there, a twist on the minimal tradition to which the artist belongs. "Soho wasn't the shopping mall that it's become," Obering laughs, remembering her mother visiting from Louisiana in the early days, refusing to step foot in her then new neighborhood.
The point of departure of Art and Space is the collaboration between Basque sculptor Eduardo Chillida and German philosopher Martin Heidegger in 1969, which resulted in the publication of an artist book whose title inspired that of this exhibition.
Over the past decade, Dara Friedman has asked large casts of participants to respond to simple ideas or thoughts, eliciting, in turn, raw emotion and chance developments within controlled situations. On the occasion of her survey at the Pérez Art Museum Miami, the artist talks about her newest work, Dichter (Poet), 2017, a four-channel video portraying sixteen people reciting their favorite poems.
Next month, an extension to our gallery, called Pharos, will open, housing four new works by James Turrell, as well as works by Jean Tinguely, Charles Ross, Richard Wilson and Randy Polumbo. Read more about Pharos here.
Torn between a powerful cultural heritage and a national discourse on modernization, alternating between phases of openness and withdrawal, the cultural evolution of Japan in the early 1970s was marked by major social, political and natural events. Exhibition curator Yuko Hasegawa looks back on these turbulent decades during which Japan oscillated between globalisation and affirmation of its identity.
There are also a number of significant new commissions in the ICA’s ground floor gallery and surrounding sculpture garden, including a new installation of paintings by Chris Ofili, a large scale sculpture including a defunct crane by Puerto Rico-based duo Allora and Calzadilla and a bent telephone pole-star by local Miami artist Mark Handforth.
A life-size hot tub in luscious shades of gradient orange and purple installed vertically on a gallery wall took center stage at Kayne Griffin Corcoran's two-person show featuring New York-based Mika Tajima and Berlin-based Jean-Pascal Flavien.
Kayne Griffin Corcoran is pleased to announce a two-person exhibition with Jean-Pascal Flavien and Mika Tajima. While making very different work, both artists investigate social relationships to built environments and attempt to expose the constructed nature of these designed systems. The artists postulate in various forms such as architectural interventions or deconstructions of design objects, all in relation to the human subject.
It seems fitting that Los Angeles born Mika Tajima’s first show in her hometown includes one of her candy-colored Jacuzzi paintings. What could be more quintessentially L.A. than a sunset-ombré hot tub, its slick sexy object-ness epitomizing the glamor of Hollywood. Her co-exhibitor Jean-Pascal Flavien likewise embraces the city’s marquee industry with statement house (temporary title) Los Angeles (2016), a diminutive baby pink house—sited in the gallery’s lush courtyard—to be occupied intermittently by two screenwriters over the run of the show.
Artist Mika Tajima’s recent work speaks to the broader history of models of the body and mind being used to regulate laborers and maximize profit, from ergonomic office designs to algorithms that analyze the emotional content of Twitter posts. How can we meaningfully represent—and perhaps disrupt—the opaque processes that turn our most natural gestures and intimate communications into generic bits of data to be harvested?
There is an inherent dialogue in the pairing of Jean-Pascal Flavien and Mika Tajima at Los Angeles gallery Kayne Griffin Corcoran, one that explores how our physical environments probe our emotional and social states, and vice versa. It is easy to think of architecture as fixed and permanent, but their works prove that the spaces we inhabit can be flexible and can afford their human participants a surprising amount of agency.
There’s a chair in artist Willie Birch’s studio in New Orleans’s Seventh Ward. I can’t remember if he ever told me it was “his” chair but, in my many visits to his studio, I’ve never sat in it. I met Birch when I first moved to New Orleans six years ago, and over time he has served as mentor, friend, and, on occasion, burr. At age seventy-three, Birch is an energetic pedagogue, quick to jump up and grab a book from his shelves when making a point. It is in those moments, when the chair has been suddenly emptied of his presence, that it has looked to me its most strange. Once covered in rich, inky upholstery, the chair is now threadbare, with exposed stuffing and gaping holes such that you can see right through to the door. Even in the context of the unpretentious shotgun house turned artist studio—cluttered with boxes, papers, works in progress, and xeroxed source images tacked to the walls—the chair is extreme, especially considering Birch is most likely to be seen on the streets of his native city sharply dressed in linen pants or sporting a crisp straw hat.
Guests gathered on Saturday, July 23, for a communal barbeque dinner at Chinati’s Arena to celebrate the opening of Robert Irwin’s installation untitled (from dawn to dusk). Among those in attendance were the poet Eileen Myles, artist Larry Bell, and Judd’s two children, Flavin and Rainer. At some point, I slipped out to catch the sunset, and was not alone. Event attendees ventured over one block to see the newly appointed building at dusk.
The artist Robert Irwin is pacing around his studio, an industrial space in a San Diego office park. Lining the walls is his ongoing body of work, which involves fluorescent tubes and multicolored theatrical gels. He and his studio manager, Joseph Huppert, are demonstrating how the hues in the room shift as the gels are rotated, switches are flipped and light is emitted, refracted and reflected. “Energy changes are going on, which doesn’t happen in painting,” Irwin says excitedly. At 87, he’s still rangy and handsome, dressed in his trademark black T-shirt, jacket, baseball cap and jeans. “It’s a game nobody’s ever actually had a chance to play.”
Irwin’s greatest innovation was in what he termed Conditional Art. Conditional Art, according to Irwin, is not ‘site dominant’, like a Henry Moore statue plonked in a city plaza, nor even ‘site specific’, in the way a sculpture by Richard Serra, for example, might be made with a particular location in mind. Irwin’s Conditional Art is intended to be absolutely responsive to its environment, and its objective is to enhance a viewer’s perception of a space. Sitting in his San Diego studio, sporting his customary black baseball cap, jeans and a tight black T-shirt, he tells me: ‘If you do it right it makes perfect sense, and looks like it has been there forever.
Eamon Ore-Giron’s paintings are smart, exceptionally likable and deceptively modest. Working on raw linen with a neat touch and brightly colored matte paints, he creates intricate, jaunty compositions of geometric elements — circles, triangles, diamonds and crescents — that call to mind late Kandinsky. They also pointedly hint at Latin American motifs.
Since his last exhibition of six copper paintings at Earl McGrath Gallery in 2000, David Novros has been working on five monumental paintings which can be seen as his synthesis of early shaped canvas and fresco paintings. On a sunny afternoon this Spring, Rail Publisher Phong Bui paid a visit to the painter’s studio to talk about his life and work.
Willie Birch is a New Orleans-based artist whose exhibition Celebrating Freedom: The Art of Willie Birch is currently on view at New Orleans’ Contemporary Arts Center. Billy Sothern, author of Down in New Orleans: Reflections from a Drowned City (2007), recently visited Birch in his studio, which is located in a neat, white, “double shotgun” house in the Seventh Ward, a neighborhood that is rich in New Orleans’ vernacular culture but that otherwise suffers the economic, physical and social blight that has long faced many of the city’s black neighborhoods.
The visual impact of Obering's work is considerable. The viewer must simultaneously register her anachronistic materials and her use of a grid to frame and structure each image. The hieratic and precious aspect of the gold leaf is lifted from its usual context, and placed in a new one, in which something indefinably different seems to be suggested than was indicated by the use of this material during the Renaissance. There is a hierarchical relationship between the gilded and colored portions of Obering's pieces, but the works also tend to engage the entire exhibition space.
The contrast of matte and glossy textures is attractive enough, but what gives the work interest are Ms. Obering's complicated colors, which actually suggest close-up outtakes from painting: a rose-red veined with blue that might derive from the Virgin's dress, a cream touched with pink from an angel's wing. All of this takes a while to register, and its handling is far too deliberate to be transcendent, but it produces an unexpected emotional pull.