Art, Reviews Candice Seymour Art, Reviews Candice Seymour

Mirages in the Desert of Painting

In an art landscape populated by chalky paintings made by people who don't care enough about their medium to learn how to use it, crowded alongside paintings based on photos by people who think paintings are just images, it shouldn't be surprising that the gallery-going masses are titillated by a painting with a nice surface.

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Art, Reviews Patrick Zapien Art, Reviews Patrick Zapien

Rebecca Morris, “#34,” at Regen Projects

Rebecca Morris’s current show at Regen Projects, titled simply #34, after its place in the sequence of solo shows that constitutes the artist’s career evinces a painter who, having reached a certain stage of maturity, looks to take stock of the work she’s produced. How does it reflect her understanding of painting? What has held up and what is yet to convince?

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Criticism, Reviews, Art Grant Tyler Criticism, Reviews, Art Grant Tyler

Denzil Hurley & Brian Sharp at Sebastian Gladstone

The further one surrenders to the compositional dynamics in each work, the more archetypal or elemental they seem to become. They are classically modernist in this sense, distilling form into an essential image, a snapshot of a prototypical aesthetic idea. This seems resonant with the glyph theme in their titling. Juxtapositional interventions — in this case Hurley’s sticks — resolve into a formal irreducibility.

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Criticism, Reviews, Art Leonie Ettinger Criticism, Reviews, Art Leonie Ettinger

Rewriting Nora: Ibsen, Gender, and the Struggle for Self-Determination

“I’m not fit to be a mother. There’s something else I’d have to do first — to change myself from a doll to a real human being.” With these words, Nora Helmer (Sarah Wharton) leaves her husband Torvald (Stephen Dexter) at the end of Royston Coppeneger’s new translation of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll House (2024).

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Criticism, Reviews, Art Anna Gregor Criticism, Reviews, Art Anna Gregor

Raoul de Keyser: The Dialectical Freedom of Painting

Often, you'll hear a painter mutter enviously while looking at a painting something along the lines of ”Damn. He just did whatever the hell he wanted.” Variations of this phrase were doubtlessly uttered many times over the last month throughout the adjoining galleries of David Zwirner’s 19th Street location, where Raoul de Keyser’s paintings hang on the walls, their apparent haphazardness inoffensively contrasting with the sky-lit gallery space.

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