The Splendor of the Word: Lucy Freeman Sandler with Jim Long
The Splendor of the Word is a selection from the New York Public Librarys collection of 286 illuminated manuscripts.
Jake Berthot with Ron Janowich
In the midst of his preparations for a new exhibit at Betty Cuningham Gallery, Jake Berthot takes time to welcome painter Ron Janowich to his Accord studio in upstate New York to talk about his life and work.
Jon Kessler with Katie Stone Sonnenborn
Jon Kesslers exhibition at P.S. 1, The Palace at 4 A.M. is anathema in the current state of art. Raging and fierce, his elaborate kinetic sculptures directly address the current socio-political state of the world through the eyes of an American.
Frequency: Studio Museum in HarlemBy Nick Stillman
In all of the Studio Museum in Harlems Frequency-related printed matter the exhibitions wall text, press release, and brochure curators Thelma Golden and Christine Kim distance the museums second supershow of emerging American black artists from its first, the whoppingly successful 2001 exhibition Freestyle.
The Downtown Show: The New York Art Scene, 1974-1984By Thomas Micchelli
First, lets get the nostalgia out of the way. Sure, the bands were great, and if you were lucky enough to play in one, the clothes were great too. But if the young, wild, and barely employed could afford to live, make art, and party hard between Canal and 14th Streets in the mid- to late-seventies, it was for the same socio-economic reasons that govern affordability, or the lack of it, anywhere.
Work & PlayBy Mira Schor
"For the inaugural exhibition of its satellite location in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the artist Emily Katrenik is eating the wall that separates the gallery's exhibition space from the bedroom of its director [...] Video of her ingestion is included in the exhibition; she also removes some of the plaster and bakes it into loaves of bread, which are available for gallery visitors to sample."
Keily JenkinsBy James Kalm
It was a thrilling time. Riffs of Run DMC or Grandmaster Flash & Mele Mel’s “White Lines” rumbled out of boom boxes and over-amped car radios as they slinked through Loisaida streets. Soho was suffocating in its own moribund kabuki dance with late formalism, and the East Village was eating their lunch.