Artist and educator John T. Scott, one of New Orleans’ most nationally renowned and respected visual artists, died Saturday morning at Methodist Hospital in Houston. He was 67.
Offering a fitting visual elegy to Donald Judd and Agnes Martin, Pard Morrison borrowed from each of their sensibilities to advance the Minimalist esthetic.
As a staging area, a hotel room is hard to beat. With an anonymity so universal it yields a strange familiarity, its seductive blend of utility and fantasy can meet almost any need. The F.B.I. has used hotel rooms for sting operations. Couples rent them for trysts as they’re falling in love, for respite when they split apart. Travelers sleep in them.
When New Orleans’ post-Katrina Latin-American population eventually revs up its celebration of the Day of the Dead, I guarantee the rest of us will be dressing up as skeletons, sucking on sugar skulls and picnicking in the cemeteries right beside them.
Lin Emery’s graceful kinetic work is to sculpture what ballet is to dance, a spiritual song to music or a warm breeze to a summer day. Her delicately balanced monumental polished aluminum creations sway and dance silently in currents of wind much like a sweet fragrance moving silently through a memory.
By Benjamin Genocchio for The New York Times “Tremendous World” is the apt title of Lesley Dill’s exhibition now at the Neuberger Museum of Art, where extremely large, dramatic works cover the walls of the gallery, some of them up to 60 feet long and 20 feet high. The show is not a retrospective, but…
Eighty percent of Canadians live in cities, but you wouldn’t know it from our art collections. From the Group of Seven in the east to Emily Carr in the west, the canon depicts our land as one of wilderness and farms, not freeways. It’s this absence of the pictured urban, in part, that makes John Hartman’s Cities series so affecting: It shows we can have beautiful paintings of Calgary, Vancouver and Toronto, rather than just the parks adjacent to them. Yet Hartman doesn’t rehash clichéd, neon-flashed, bass thumping visions of urban life. Rather, he portrays cities as organic entities. Leah Sandals spoke to Hartman at his Lafontaine, Ont., abode.
I met Robert Polidori through a photograph he had taken of the Versailles restoration. It captivated me. Seeing so many layers of history in one image was astonishing. So was being spurred to imagine Versailles as a real dwelling defined by the remnants of its inhabitants, and all the changes in history they and it had undergone.
This was the ’90s, when many photographers making art were constructing their own subjects or creating intellectual images that involved visual sleight of hand. The straightforward voluptuousness of Robert’s photo stood in stark contrast to all this. It was this originality and this lushness that enchanted me.
Douglas Bourgeois may be the most successful obscure artist in America. His smallish paintings command respectable prices—for their size, by New York standards—and his most recent show of over one hundred paintings, drawings, and collages sold quickly Arthur Roger Gallery; November 4—December 12. 2006].