Our culture now wonderfully, alchemically transforms images and history into artistic material. The possibilities seem endless and wide open.
From Jerry Saltz
The greatest work of art about New York? The question seems nebulous. The city's magic and majesty are distilled in the photographs of Alfred Stieglitz and Paul Strand.
As I went through 'This Progress,' one of two performance pieces by Tino Sehgal that transform Frank Lloyd Wright's emptied-out spiral into a dreamy Socratic-purgatorial journey, the museum literally fell away. I was suspended in some weird nonspace.
Few contemporary artists mined the space between the ordinary and the strange better than Orozco did.
I like that the art world isn't regulated.
Calling a young artist 'great' these days can give one the heebie-jeebies: The word has been denatured in the past decade.
Poor Georgia O'Keeffe. Death didn't soften the opinions of the art world toward her paintings.
The art gods cooked up something special for James Ensor.
I'm not for or against video - or any medium or style, for that matter.
The New York art world readily proves people wrong. Just when folks say that things stink and flibbertigibbet critics wish the worst on us all because we're not pure enough, good omens appear.
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