Metropolitan Museum of Art
For Charles Clough, a solo show that raises the question: What was the 'Pictures Generation' really?
"There were so many dogmas involved," Clough told me at Saturday's opening. "There was [Clement] Greenberg’s dogma and then there was Michael Fried’s dogma, and then there was the conceptual artist with their rules. Everybody’s got their rules and my critical position is more of affirmation and inclusion. And so I’ve always retained a painterly approach—throughout storms of dogma and various points of view."(1)
All of which is to say that, in aggregate, Regarding Warhol seems more like a celebration of what we already know about Warhol's legacy than an investigation of what we might not have considered. Many of the individual pieces in the show, including many by Warhol himself—the well-known but rarely-screened Empire State, say, or the Birmingham Race Riot screenprint, or IDiamond Dust Joseph Beuys—are not only fascinating to look at but have the potential to seriously impact the viewer. But they are rarely given the chance.
Linzy’s video art routinely invokes stock characters from various strains of pop culture (most often soap operas), who he then gives voice to address questions of race, sex, gender, and love. Since The New York Times wrote about him “A star is born” in 2005, Linzy, whose unique work he always worried would have trouble fitting into the art world, has had a meteoric rise to fame. His mining of pop culture for his characters makes him a fitting choice to complement the Warhol exhibition, which looks at Warhol’s influence over the past five decades of art.
A Capital anticipations list: Drinks with Arianna, Cloud City, James Franco art, Figment Art Festival, Tiki Disco
Each week, Capital's editors and writers will offer a list of the events, activities, releases and personal obsessions that we are looking forward to during the next week. Here is a list of our anticipations.
An improbable conversation: new Met exhibition attempts to mix and match Elsa Schiaparelli and Miuccia Prada
So we have two renegades, and admirable renegades at that, but their respective revolts are undertaken with more dissimilarity than the exhibition would have one believe. Harold Koda, one of the show’s curators, admitted in a press preview this week that the conversations produced in the exhibit come off more like two women talking at each other rather than to each other.
Each day, the New York tabloids vie to sell readers at the newsstands on outrageous headlines, dramatic photography, and, occasionally, great reporting. Who is today's winner?
Smith even managed to amp up the feeling of the generally laid-back evening, a foot on her monitor, and the spirit rolled her into "Gloria." I attempted to send a text message and got snapped at by the woman next to me for sinning in the church of Patti. (The audience was, atypically for any rock show, more than half women.) Still, such fervor said something about Smith's own idolatry.
A crowded schedule that's worth the effort, from Anthony Braxton to Portishead to Anna Netrebko to Philip Glass
There’s too much to hear: that’s the first empirical fact to absorb about the coming music season in New York. From a consumer perspective the problem is compounded by the amount of effort it can take to see just the best stuff: tickets purchased online weeks or months in advance, forcing you to tick a date on the calendar when you really have no idea what work will have in store for you that day; or else the intellectual endurance required while trekking to the same venue over the course of multiple nights to see a single cycle of performances. Who has the time to plan for such extravagances, let alone commit them?
There are white gowns in the gallery that would, if they could, sprout fangs and tear that innocuous Royal wedding dress to shreds, blameless queenlet included. At Monday morning's press preview of the show, one such gown stood just inside the entrance, a spotlight flashing off its brilliant, jagged-yet-flowing surface—a surface made of razor clam shells, gathered by McQueen from the beach at Norfolk and lugged into the studio. Next to it stood a gown the color of fresh blood, with ostrich-feather skirts and a bodice made of painted glass medical slides.