Andy Warhol predicted that in the future, museums will become shopping malls and shopping malls museums. The future has happened. The museum has been a place where one moves seamlessly between buying and viewing for long enough that the gift shop has come to define the experience.
I cannot take my eyes off that severed head, writes Julia Kristeva in The Severed Head: Capital Visions. Much as I want to, this is my symptom. Depression, obsession with death, admission of feminine and human distress, castrating drive? I accept all these human, too human hypotheses. I move on from them to imagine a capital moment in the history of the visible.
In the name of communication, we have accepted a radical enclosure of private, leisure time by the constant surveillance and increasingly commercial logic of the Internet.
Memory: Fragments of a Modern History begins with a provocative question: I am more intimately acquainted with my own memories than anyone else can possibly be. Am I, then, the best authority on them?
Sherrie Levine: Mayhem is anything but chaotic. The work is meticulously ordered: four artistic billiard tables, each supporting three identically placed balls; six pristine crystal skulls enclosed in glass cases; 30 identical matted and framed postcards; two minimalist sculptures atop two pianos; one tidy row of black-and-white photographs of plants.
In 1846 the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard wrote a small pamphlet called The Present Age: On the Death of Rebellion in which he described a social and intellectual landscape much like our own.
Workthe title and the contentunpacks the meaning of one of the most saturated signifiers in 21st-century American English. Work, like other fundamental concepts such as property, is almost impossible to define despiteand perhaps because ofa common-sense feeling that we know what it is.
You wouldnt know it at first, but Kelly Jazvac is really into vinyl and death. The London, Ontario-based artist has been creating work from salvaged adhesive vinyl for nearly a decade, collecting scraps from often reluctant commercial printers and sorting them by color and size for later use.
Text and image cannot be disentangled. We learn to read with picture books; we learn to look with captions.
In 1966, Gerhard Richter affixed a pencil to an electric drill and produced one of the fifty mostly untitled works that comprise Lines which do not exist, a survey of the artists drawings from 1966 to 2005.