Hey, it’s Monday! Wake up and try these links for a mix of fun and thoughtful stuff.
I think it was the 13th of August, 1992, that artist and neighbor Ray Johnson called me with the news that John Cage was dead. I know it was early in the morning, and not the day he died, the 12th, because when I went outside to get a coffee and a New York Times, Cage’s obit was fully formed, a solid page, a gray tombstone reserved only for those who have come to New York to change the world. Ray hung up and I assume spent the day dialing all sorts of people to tell them that John Cage ... More » »
Spencer Finch does Jorge Pardo in the gallery front window at James Cohan Gallery (see way below). Beautiful or ugly? You decide. Once again we went to hear Robert Storr at the Met last Saturday. (See previous post for Storr’s lecture on abstraction last week. ) We were looking for the light as usual but by the time the lecture ended we were confused as ever about the lecture’s point. In a lecture that ran at breakneck speed through a zillion slides with not a lot of commentary here’s what he said, more or less. Beauty is a mutable concept ... More » »
Peter Saul Donald Duck Crucified (1964) oil on canvas, 63 x 59 in., collection Karen E. Tappendorf When Jeff Koons’ work sells for millions and Paul McCarthy’s chocolate butt plugs do brisk business at an international art fair, it may be hard to remember that not too long ago some art had the power to offend. Peter Saul’s anger directed at American social and political mores, delivered in a style wrought from popular culture (Mad magazine to Disney) and with his finger often directed at the eye of political correctness, did offend. And the offense outlasted all of those younger ... More » »