Feed

Will Heinrich

Review

"17 Nov '62" (1962) by Anne Truit. (Courtesy Matthew Marks Gallery)

Transcendental Sublimation: ‘Anne Truitt: Drawings’ at Matthew Marks and ‘Happenings’ at the Pace Gallery

The late Anne Truitt, whose work is often associated with Minimalism, is best known for her freestanding, assertively self-effacing, brightly painted wooden pillars. Confronting and repossessing the history of sculpture and the nature of artistic ambition at a 90-degree angle, formally simple but psychologically complex to the point of opacity, they’re documents of a kind of transcendental sublimation. But the same quality illuminates the best of the several dozen drawings—pale graphite grids, saturated color fields, minimally figurative angles and lines—currently on view at Matthew Marks Gallery. Read More

Review

"Ooey Gooey" (2011) by Nicholas Buffon. (Courtesy Callicoon Fine Arts)

Time, and Time Again: Nicholas Buffon at Callicoon Fine Arts and Gerald Ferguson at Canada

In “Applied Flesh,” his first New York solo show, Nicholas Buffon uses five paintings and two incredible drawings to get a view of what it means to live in time—in the paintings, by recording the full weight of the momentary action of making a mark; and in the drawings, by diagramming the full scope of the patterns created by singular actions when they’re repeated. Read More

Review

"Batman I" (2011) by Joyce Pensato. (Petzel Gallery)

Black and White in Color: ‘Joyce Pensato: Batman Returns,’ at Friedrich Petzel Gallery

Are zebras black with white stripes, or white with black stripes? Fuggetabout It I, the first installation in Joyce Pensato’s exhibition “Batman Returns,” begins with a black and white photo of Marlon Brando as Don Corleone in a soiled frame, pocked with staples, hanging tilted by the gallery’s front door. Ten more head shots—Eddie Murphy, Joe DiMaggio, Al Jolson in blackface—all splattered with drips of black enamel paint, proceed under the front desk to meet Chris Rock; Minnie Mouse; paper cut-outs of Bart and Maggie Simpson surrounded by serrated lines; an age- and dirt-blackened stuffed Mickey Mouse; a snapshot of a black couple on their wedding day; Brando as Corleone again, with Al Pacino as Michael; Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat posing in boxing gloves; a black collie in a sombrero; Aunt Jemima; a sideways Sopranos poster; a giant foam Mickey head, covered in Christmas lights, missing its eyes and ears, set next to a plastic Santa and Frosty covered in multicolored enamel drips; a stuffed Timmy from South Park; a lenticular postcard of zebras in the wild; and snapshots of Hillary Rodham Clinton, Desmond Tutu, Muhammad Ali and the artist herself as she poses diagonally across other people’s photos of their children posing with human-size Mickeys at Disney World. Read More

Review

An installation view of Doug Wheeler's work at David Zwirner. (Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner)

Nothing to See Here: Doug Wheeler at David Zwirner

Any description of Doug Wheeler’s gallery-filling installation artwork at David Zwirner must proceed in terms of a given viewer’s experience—that’s the point of the piece. An almost unbearably subtle light sculpture set into a walk-in void, it sidesteps the ordinary complexities of emotion and intellect in favor of an oppressively concrete sensory effect that pushes the viewer back onto his or her own devices, then throws those devices themselves into high relief. Read More

Review

Installation view of "Looking Back/The White Columns Annual."

The End of the Beginning: “Looking Back/The 6th White Columns Annual”

It may not be quick, but it’s certain: sometime after the Deluge, fish will learn to walk. At the entrance to the downtown alternative space White Columns, above a glass-covered bulletin board containing a Mary Cassatt reproduction, a handout about Fernand Léger, and Chloe Dzubilo’s 2007 marker-on-canvas announcement There Is a Transolution, hangs Maria Lassnig’s six-and-a-half-foot-tall 2009 painting Die Optimisten. Read More

Review

"The Uprising" (1931) by Diego Rivera. Fresco, 74 x 93 3/4 inches. (Museum of Modern Art)

Action Figures: ‘Diego Rivera: Murals for The Museum of Modern Art’

In 1927, Diego Rivera was sent to Moscow by the Mexican Communist Party to sit on a platform a few seats down from Stalin and view celebrations of the 10th anniversary of the October Revolution. While there, he produced a small watercolor sketchbook that followed an ordinary family joining the parades, beginning with simple, bland figures in washed-out beiges, but introducing symphonic compositions of navy blues and martial blacks and dynamic ovals in concert with the waving red banners and the glory of the crowds. He was also introduced to two American men who were touring Europe to learn about currents in contemporary art, and in 1929, one of those Americans, Alfred H. Barr Jr., was appointed the Museum of Modern Art’s first director and invited Rivera to stage a one-man show. In 1931, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller, oil money matriarch and patron of the museum, bought Rivera’s Moscow sketchbook for $2,500 to help finance the artist’s trip to New York, where he constructed eight “portable murals,” including one of the Mexican revolutionary leader Emiliano Zapata, and another of an Aztec jaguar knight stabbing a conquistador in the throat with a stone knife. The jaguar knight mural ended up in Northampton, Mass., at the Smith College Museum of Art, while Zapata stayed at MoMA but was stored away out of sight. Eighty years later, five of the eight murals have been reunited on MoMA’s second floor, and you can see them for only 25 bucks, and maybe another two bucks for a postcard of Zapata. Read More

Review

"Trance of the Tropics" by Kuchar. (MoMA PS1)

Gloves Off: George Kuchar’s ‘Pagan Rhapsodies’ at PS1

When the prodigious, profligate, lowbrow, brilliant, Bronx-born filmmaker and artist George Kuchar died in September, it was in the midst of the planning for “Pagan Rhapsodies,” the large show devoted to his work, currently on view at PS1. In the kind of careful, carefully noncommittal juxtaposition that gave his work its elliptical intelligence and diffuse but disciplined purpose, his death has transformed the exhibition into a memorial retrospective. Read More

Review

Installation view of Esther Kläs, "Nobody Home," at Peter Blum

It’s a Draw: Esther Kläs at Peter Blum Gallery and ‘Cory Arcangel vs. Pierre Bismuth’ at Team Gallery

It’s theology that looks like a math problem: Is it possible for a wall to have only one side? In her first solo show in New York, at Peter Blum Gallery, the sculptor Esther Kläs’s answer is yes. Using sheets of two-inch Styrofoam to build up monolithic forms, and Aqua Resin dyed in a postwar German palette of cement grays and morbid dark grays, she molds the mysterious, axiomatically impenetrable outsides of things. Read More