Inframundo invites visitors to look inward and become a rock, drawing on the landscape shaped by cenotes, which are thought to be portals to the Maya underworld.
Before he was a filmmaker, David Lynch was a painter and, if you're familiar with his esoteric filmmaking practice - peppered as it is with some of cinema's most indelible imagery - it all makes a lot of sense. A year after the auteur's passing, a newly opened show at Pace Gallery's Berlin space, Die Tankestelle, foregrounds Lynch's career-spanning fine art practice and its inextricable link to his cinematic oeuvre.
Seeing the Alhambra in Granada was an extraordinary experience for me. It was the first time that I understood painting as something other than an object hanging on a wall. I thought that paintings could be in a fixed place, made for that place, made for the light of the place, experienced kinesthetically.
Dealers like artists with established sales records because it lowers their already considerable financial exposure. Renting a gallery space in Tribeca costs anywhere between $8,000-30,000 a month on top of staff, marketing, and daily operations. With that kind of overhead, very few business owners can afford to take on the financial risk of untested artists.
On Franklin Street in Brooklyn's Greenpoint neighborhood, one non-commercial gallery fosters 'a small, stubbornly human space for friction.' Friction—the ubiquitous buzzword that captures the simultaneous delight and discomfort of doing things the slow way—is at the heart of artists Pap Souleye Fall and Char Jeré's current show at Subtitled NYC. It also reflects the overall spirit of this little exhibition space and of a burgeoning movement to reject our culture of optimization in favor of a bumpier, more intimate, less alienating experience.
Disembodied heads, eyes, and hands meet spindly trees, dragonflies, and vibrant blossoms in the folk-art inspired works of Michael McGrath. Based in Rhinebeck, New York, McGrath melds a variety of media-most pieces contain a mixture of graphite, ink, and oil and acrylic paints-into dynamic compositions suffuse with mystery. Recurring symbols and objects lend themself to a distinctive visual language that captures both the wondrous and puzzling.
In 2024, I made a vow to never base my art criticism on wall labels. My decision came after reading reactions to that year's Whitney Biennial. "If every label in 'Even Better Than the Real Thing,' the 81st installment of the Whitney Biennial, were peeled off the walls and tossed into the Hudson, what would happen?" asked Jackson Arn in the New Yorker. (He went on to suggest that the overall show would have been much better.)
I work outside, carving and shaping the stone. Outside my house, I have a table, an extension cord, and tools. It's very cold and I have to wear all my winter clothes. When it's too cold, I do the filing and finishing work inside after I shape it outside. I listen to all kinds of music. I listen to Eminem all the time; his albums are all my favorites. For drawings, I work at Kinngait Studios or at home on my kitchen table.
Mornings are best for concentrated work. In the winter, I turn on the heat at 8am and get started around 10am. Summer, I start around 9am. I have two areas in the studio for projects. The large, heavy wood sculptures are carved in the front section of the studio, closest to the roll-up wide door. Smaller sculptures are placed on a hydraulic workbench. Before I start, I focus, connect with the Source, and ask for guidance.