Posts Tagged: winter 2012

Gerhard Richter, from Elbe, 1957, linocut ink on paper. Kunstmuseum Winterthur, Switzerland, longterm loan from a private collection (artwork © 2012 Gerhard Richter; photographs provided by Kunstmuseum Winterthur).

Shaping the Glass

By Katy Siegel

Life is not an idea, but ideas are part of life. Thinking is the only way out of our enmities and miseries. Vision—seeing better and more freshly, with less habit and personal bias—awakens us to life.

Gerhard Richter, from Elbe, 1957, linocut ink on paper. Kunstmuseum Winterthur, Switzerland, longterm loan from a private collection (artwork © 2012 Gerhard Richter; photographs provided by Kunstmuseum Winterthur).

Shaping the Glass

By Katy Siegel

Life is not an idea, but ideas are part of life. Thinking is the only way out of our enmities and miseries. Vision—seeing better and more freshly, with less habit and personal bias—awakens us to life.

Gerhard Richter, Konstruktion (Construction, Werkübersicht 389), 1976, oil on canvas, 8 ft. 2½ in. x 9 ft. 10⅛ in. (250 x 300 cm). Staatliches Museum für Kunst und Design, Nuremberg, Germany (artwork © 2012 Gerhard Richter; photograph provided by Atelier Gerhard Richter, Cologne, Germany)

Richter’s Willkür

By Christine Mehring

Following on the heels of his signature photorealist blurs, Gerhard Richter’s abstract paintings have long exemplified a “permanent break in style as principle of style,” as Klaus Honnef noted in the artist’s first retrospective catalogue in 1969.

Gerhard Richter, Konstruktion (Construction, Werkübersicht 389), 1976, oil on canvas, 8 ft. 2½ in. x 9 ft. 10⅛ in. (250 x 300 cm). Staatliches Museum für Kunst und Design, Nuremberg, Germany (artwork © 2012 Gerhard Richter; photograph provided by Atelier Gerhard Richter, Cologne, Germany)

Richter’s Willkür

By Christine Mehring

Following on the heels of his signature photorealist blurs, Gerhard Richter’s abstract paintings have long exemplified a “permanent break in style as principle of style,” as Klaus Honnef noted in the artist’s first retrospective catalogue in 1969.

Louise Fishman, Zero at the Bone, 2010, oil on linen, 70 x 60 in. (177.8 x 152.4 cm). Private collection (artwork © Louise Fishman; photograph provided by Cheim and Read, New York)

Zero at the Bone: Louise Fishman Speaks with Carrie Moyer

By Louise Fishman and Carrie Moyer

This all came to me in the last couple of weeks. In the late 1980s, early 1990s, my partner and I had gone to Madrid to see the big Velázquez retrospective. I’d never been to the Prado. I spent a lot of time looking at the Velázquez and wandering around the museum. Eventually I found Goya’s Black Paintings.

Louise Fishman, Zero at the Bone, 2010, oil on linen, 70 x 60 in. (177.8 x 152.4 cm). Private collection (artwork © Louise Fishman; photograph provided by Cheim and Read, New York)

Zero at the Bone: Louise Fishman Speaks with Carrie Moyer

By Louise Fishman and Carrie Moyer

This all came to me in the last couple of weeks. In the late 1980s, early 1990s, my partner and I had gone to Madrid to see the big Velázquez retrospective. I’d never been to the Prado. I spent a lot of time looking at the Velázquez and wandering around the museum. Eventually I found Goya’s Black Paintings.

Ugo Mulas, Studio of Lee Bontecou, 1964, photographs (photographs © Ugo Mulas Heirs; all rights reserved)

The Terms of Craft and Other Means of Making: Lee Bontecou’s Hybrid Trajectory

By Elyse Speaks

In 1958 Lee Bontecou began experimenting with a technique for making sculpture based on binding fabric to thin steel frames or armatures. Executed first on a small scale that oscillated between the form of the model and the form of tabletop sculpture, the works were emphatic in their distance from the shape and tenor of the dominant field of welded metal sculpture.

Ugo Mulas, Studio of Lee Bontecou, 1964, photographs (photographs © Ugo Mulas Heirs; all rights reserved)

The Terms of Craft and Other Means of Making: Lee Bontecou’s Hybrid Trajectory

By Elyse Speaks

In 1958 Lee Bontecou began experimenting with a technique for making sculpture based on binding fabric to thin steel frames or armatures. Executed first on a small scale that oscillated between the form of the model and the form of tabletop sculpture, the works were emphatic in their distance from the shape and tenor of the dominant field of welded metal sculpture.

The Shame machine, Tecopa, California, March 2011 (photograph © Josephine Halvorson)

Shame: The One That Got Away

By Josephine Halvorson
The nineteenth-century painter Samuel Palmer lived within two hundred yards of the cemetery, making drawings, notes, and paintings in what he called the Valley of Visions in an effort to “bring up a mystic glimmer.” Sinclair, London Orbital Acid rain has eroded the words. Lichens, like Van Gogh blooms in orange and yellow, cling to the mauve stone.

The Shame machine, Tecopa, California, March 2011 (photograph © Josephine Halvorson)

Shame: The One That Got Away

By Josephine Halvorson
The nineteenth-century painter Samuel Palmer lived within two hundred yards of the cemetery, making drawings, notes, and paintings in what he called the Valley of Visions in an effort to “bring up a mystic glimmer.” Sinclair, London Orbital Acid rain has eroded the words. Lichens, like Van Gogh blooms in orange and yellow, cling to the mauve stone.

Cosima von Bonin, Bubbles (Loop #4), 2010, wool, cotton, 66⅞ x 55⅛ in. (170 x 140 cm) (artwork © Cosima von Bonin; photography provided by Petzel, New York)

Ground Control: Painting in the Work of Cosima von Bonin

By Gregory H. Williams

During the past decade a steady flow of critical writing on contemporary painting has appeared, much of it seeking to define changes to the practice that have taken place since 1990. In several often-cited essays, a shared theme has emerged in which late-twentieth-century painting is described as undergoing a crisis of containment.

Cosima von Bonin, Bubbles (Loop #4), 2010, wool, cotton, 66⅞ x 55⅛ in. (170 x 140 cm) (artwork © Cosima von Bonin; photography provided by Petzel, New York)

Ground Control: Painting in the Work of Cosima von Bonin

By Gregory H. Williams

During the past decade a steady flow of critical writing on contemporary painting has appeared, much of it seeking to define changes to the practice that have taken place since 1990. In several often-cited essays, a shared theme has emerged in which late-twentieth-century painting is described as undergoing a crisis of containment.