Makoto Fujimura— As I write from the desk overlooking my Princeton farm, Bluebirds and Tree Swallows have begun to nest. The peeper frogs have serenaded our evening walks. The spring thaw gives us hope, at least a pause, in our intense and dark pandemic world. And in the scarce winter of
Abigail Zitin— I remember it being at eye level; else how would it have caught my eye? I had gone to see Mastry, an exhibition of works by the African-American painter Kerry James Marshall, at the Met Breuer in January 2017. The painting in question, like most of Marshall’s, is large: six feet
David Scott Kastan— Our lives are saturated by color. The sky above us is blue (or gray or pink or purple or nearly black). The grass we walk on is green, though sometimes it is brown. Our skin has color, though not exactly the color we normally ascribe to it.
Ivan Brunetti is one of the great contemporary graphic artists. His signature, highly evocative style often captures a moment of acute absurdity, or humor, or melancholy, with text that is painstakingly edited to a minimalist perfection. Last month we put our readers up to the challenge of providing captions for
Ivan Brunetti is one of the great contemporary graphic artists. His signature, highly evocative style often captures a moment of acute absurdity, or humor, or melancholy, with text that is painstakingly edited to a minimalist perfection. We’d like to give three of you a signed copy each of his marvelous
Arthur Danto, the influential art critic and a professor emeritus of aesthetics and history at Columbia University, once famously declared the End of Art. “In our narrative, at first only mimesis [imitation] was art, then several things were art but each tried to extinguish its competitors, and then, finally, it became