David Beer: A Love of Fakes

Few exhibitions have been as anticipated as the current Francis Picabia retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art.

Page has been making annual trips to the Texas-Mexico borderlands since 2007, and one of her projects is walking along the river in search of objects people leave behind when they’re crossing.

Flourishing in the northern provinces, the Balkan False Narcissus (Crinum ponticum) stands out as one of Euxinova’s most notable bulbous perennials.

It’s easiest to start from the impulse to problematize the position of the flâneur. The ugly word privilege hovers around it, and we turn to questions that we know the answer to, “Who, exactly, is allowed to wander, like so?”

We’re co-hosting an opening night party for Colin Raff’s latest art installation. Hope to see you there!

The question is not whether humans are on a crash course with misery and extinction but how we as individuals relate to our membership in a species and chart a path for ourselves between now and our personal demise.

by Joe Linker To my odd ears, usquebaugh, from which whiskey derives, reminds me of the wedding party that year in Berkeley, and he…, and he couldn’t say…, or, he could not pronounce…, but that was nothing to the question of how he got the overstuffed hotel room chair...

The world’s oldest documented love poem: Sumer tablet, 8th century BC. Istanbul Archaeological Museum. by Lital Khaikin Notes departing from Deniz Eroglu’s exhibition “Milk & Honey” @ OVERGADEN * I would not call him a lover The man who craves God’s Paradise. Paradise is only a trap To...

Judging by the crowd, of which I was part when recently visiting London’s National Portrait Gallery, the attraction of portrait painting is undiminished.

People tell us that Art makes us love Nature more than we loved her before; that it reveals her secrets to us; and that after a careful study of Corot and Constable we see things in her that had escaped our observation.

A Message from Space in my Backyard, 2009, dual channel video installation, view from the exhibition Territories of the In/Human, Württembergischer Kunstverein, Stuttgart, 2010 by Stanimir Panayotov Krassimir Terziev, Between the Past that is About to Happen and the Future that Has Already Been, translated into English by Lyubov Kostova,...

‘The Future is Here – it is just not evenly distributed’ was the catch phrase for the Sydney Biennale, which closed this month. But the experience on offer forecasted an uneven future for a widely distributed art product.

I will try to clarify, in eight points, why it is important—today—to look at images of destroyed human bodies like those I have used and integrated in different works.

The established tale of mid-century abstract painting in this country relies on two parallel narratives, each originating from either side of Canada’s two solitudes. In Montreal, it was the story of the Automatistes, of Borduas and Riopelle, Barbeau and Françoise Sullivan.

The rise of a woman photographer with the advent of photography and of women’s emancipation presents an irresistible moment of reflection.

The last room of the exhibition gathers together portraits of friends and exiles done in Bordeaux, and puts at the centre the masterpiece Goya painted in 1820, Self-Portrait with Doctor Arrieta. It is the show’s most daunting moment.

Parsed from the Greek, necronym literally translates as “death name.” It usually means a name shared with a dead sibling.

Why do artists make stuff if the familiar criteria of success or failure in the domain of manufacture are not dispositive when it comes to art? Why are artists so bent on making stuff? To what end?