“The force or spirit that passes through you and then leaves something to inhabit and grow in you, and when it grows large enough you will pass it out from you, give birth to it.”

“We gleam with listening.”

In his writings on cultural objects, Adorno self-consciously employed a prismatic and monadological method. The idea was to approach each cultural object as a monad, as a self-contained entity that, if viewed properly, could prismatically illuminate the character of the social totality. This essay seeks to apply a similar method to a work by Donald Judd: Untitled (1967).

“It is another day.”

“the best music always comes from somewhere else”

Ken Collins’s portrait of Richard Diebenkorn, used to promote the recent L.A. Louver show of his works on paper, is peculiar in its emphasis on the distance between the camera and its subject . . .

A vision of the grotesque, our morbid fascination with violence, and the aestheticization of war…

“El Desdichado” doesn’t quite work through melancholy but gives form and refuge to it.

“…the triptych painfully reminds us that the form today signifies a broken totality that can only be unified, at best, by an act of artistic creation.”

And I wondered if I was awake or asleep, if it was the moon's paleness or Lucifer's, if it was midnight or dawn!

As if frozen in time, drone music has not developed as an art form since Young's Dream Houses, & has mostly been barbarized into a muddy ambience and cheap theatrics

It seems to have been forgotten, in recent years, that the basic relationship of the artist to the world in modernity is one of estrangement.

Is it possible Jurassic Park’s innovative special effects overshadow its true artistic depth?

“Film is, for me, an art of composition.”

In memory of Brice Marden (1938-2023)

“She’s trying to paint me into a corner with her question mark army. She’s wanting to light my pants on fire. She seems super mad at me.“

Why is it that so much writing on art today — ostensibly criticism — only skates on the surface of artworks, providing description, identifying a handful subjects and themes, maybe some precedents, and then a conclusion — or rather, an ending. The writing stops.

The 17th series in the ongoing collaboration between George Quasha’s preverbs and Susan Quasha’s photographic work.

Marguerite Duras’s essay “Joy: we believe: we don’t believe anymore” (1977) translated by Mia Ruf

The main problem that the artist encounters at work — the source of all their woes and triumphs — is that materials must be transformed: made to give what they cannot. Appearance is the mask of the true face beneath.