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    Tove Jansson’s Beloved Moomins Turn 80 With a Major Exhibition in Helsinki

    A monumental exhibition celebrating the artist and author Tove Jansson opens at Helsinki Art Museum on October 25 as part of a series of events held around the country, to mark the 80th anniversary of the Moomins.
    Jansson (born in 1914 and part of a minority of Swedish-speaking Finns) wrote the first of her Moomin novels, “The Moomins and The Great Flood”, in 1945, with a further eight books (plus five picture books) released over the following 48 years. The characters are beloved by children and adults around the globe.
    So popular are the Moomins in Jansson’s native Finland that in 1993, the year of her final Moomin picture book ‘Songs from the Moominvalley”, a Moomin-inspired theme park was opened in Kailo, designed after Jansson’s drawings. The author’s birthday, August 9, is also celebrated across the country, as Finnish Art Day.
    Tove Jansson in her studio © Eva Konikoff.
    According to legend, the inspiration for the series of characters came from a warning Jansson received from her uncle as a child. He said that a “Moomintroll” lived in his kitchen and would punish her if she stole food. The design for the white, almost hippopotamus-like beings, were apparently born out of an unkind caricature Jansson drew of the philosopher Immanuel Kant.
    Although her legacy is certainly dominated by the popularity of the Moomins, Jansson had her own successful art practice separate from her work as a children’s book illustrator and author. Having studied art in both Stockholm and Paris, Jansson mounted seven solo shows in Finland during her lifetime and was commissioned to create major murals across the country. She also illustrated the books of other authors including J. R. R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” and Lewis Caroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland“.
    Tove Jansson, Bird Blue (1953) © Tove Jansson Estate. Photo: HAM / Maija Toivanen.
    Jansson’s life, particularly her lifelong partnership with the artist Tuulikki Pietilä (which began more than a decade before the decriminalization of homosexuality in Finland) was the focus of a 2020 biopic. “Tove” was directed by Zaida Begroth and starred Alma Pöysti.
    The new exhibition “Tove Jansson: Paradise” celebrates Jansson’s illustrious career with a focus on the murals she created during the 1940s and 1950s. These were mostly made in Helsinki, where Jansson was born and spent the vast majority of her life. Sites included the City Hall restaurant, a children’s hospital, a local electromechanical factory, and a girls’ school.
    Tove Jansson, sketch for Bird Blue (1953) © Tove Jansson Estate. Photo: HAM / Kirsi Halkola.
    “Tove Jansson’s created her public works during Finland’s postwar reconstruction period, aiming to spread hope and joy” Arja Miller, the Museum Director of Helsinki Art Museum told Artnet News. “[This show] celebrates her remarkable range as an artist, while emphasizing her desire to bring hope and delight to everyday life. In today’s ever-changing, often uncertain world, her work feels more relevant than ever—reminding us of the power of art to inspire, uplift, and create a sense of connection.”
    Tove Jansson, Party in the City (1947) © Tove Jansson Estate. Photo: HAM / Hanna Kukorelli.
    More than 180 objects and artworks relating to Jansson’s public art projects are on display, taking up over 4,200 square feet across two floors of Helsinki Art Museum. HAM will also be celebrating the 10th anniversary since its reopening in 2015 following major renovations. Jansson’s murals Party in the Countryside and Party in the City (both created in 1947) are part of HAM’s permanent collection.
    Tove Jansson, Niilo Suihko and Party in the City © Per Olov Jansson.
    Also included are six life-size charcoal mural sketches, which have never been displayed publicly before. In fact, many were unrolled for the first time since their creation for their inclusion in this show. In addition to preparatory paintings and sketches, there are photographs, works on glass, videos and book covers. One such cover will be for Jansson’s popular 1972 novel “The Summer Book”. A film adaption starring Glenn Close premiers this month at London’s BFI Film Festival.
    Tove Jansson, Party in the Countryside (1947) © Tove Jansson Estate. Photo: HAM / Hanna Kukorelli.
    Jansson’s debut solo show was held at the Bäcksbacka’s Konstsalongen gallery in 1943, and paintings loaned from the collection of the Bäcksbacka family will be on display in the exhibition. Visitors to HAM will also be given a sneak-preview of a new documentary following Jansson’s creation of her only altarpiece, which she made for Teuva Church in South Ostrobothnia in 1953.
    Unrolling of Tove Jansson’s preparatory charcoal studies at HAM: sketch for Bird Blue (1953) © Tove Jansson Estate. Photo: HAM / Maija Toivanen.
    James Zambra, a relative of Jansson and the Creative Director at Moomin Characters Ltd. told Artnet News that the show is a “a deeply personal and meaningful celebration of Tove’s legacy” and that there’s “no better way to kick off celebrating 80 years since the debut of her first story in the Moomin series.” “Tove Jansson: Paradise” is on view at HAM from October 25 to April 6 2025. More

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    The 2024 Busan Biennale Is Eccentric, Vexing, and Full of Thrills

    A robotic arm moves a long, black whip across the floor, and then suddenly lets it rip. Nearby, a motor pulls a knife on a wire toward the ceiling. Without warning, the blade falls, puncturing a wooden table. Low stanchions separate you from these works, which are by, respectively, the Vietnamese artists Nguyễn Phương Linh and Trương Quế Chi, but they are still quite menacing.
    Partial installation view of Nguyễn Phương Linh & Trương Quế Chi’s Sourceless Waters: The Whip & The Knife (2024).
    Another room here at the Busan Museum of Contemporary Art in South Korea has a peculiar amount of empty white wall space. As you stare, your eyes tingle. Is it really empty? There are “three almost invisible hues of color,” a wall label explains. This is Carla Arocha’s Snow (2003/2024), which simulates snow blindness, a condition that “causes us to see dead cells as the blind spots in our eyesight.” We are “looking at our own death,” the label adds.
    On a grass field outside, there is an old trailer painted with larger-than-life flowers by Doowon Lee. The self-taught Korean artist has stuffed similarly exuberant canvases inside the vehicle, along with a bevy of potted plants, creating a verdant little refuge on MOCA Busan’s island home. Across the Nakdong River, apartment buildings stretch off into the distance.
    Doowon Lee’s The flower garden of BUDDHA-BEE in a caravan (2024).
    Welcome to the 2024 Busan Biennale, which is by turns harrowing and sedate, almost comically blunt and frustratingly hermetic. It is one of the more freewheeling exhibitions I have seen in recent years, and also one of the more enervating. On view through Sunday, it’s titled “Seeing in the Dark”—which is difficult to do, literally speaking, but it is precisely what great artists can accomplish by developing fresh ways of looking at the world and allowing us to make sense of, yes, very dark times.
    The biennial’s artistic directors—Vera Mey, an independent curator from New Zealand, and Philippe Pirotte, a former rector of the Städelschule in Frankfurt—have marshaled an admirably eclectic list of 62 individuals and groups for that task. There are big-league Korean names and a few regulars on the global art circuit, but most are not well known. This show is a bet on new talent.
    Kyung Hwa Kim’s Harmony (2024), made from cloth used to make hanbok, traditional Korean clothing.
    Violence is everywhere, even in unabashedly beautiful material. one hanging tapestry—hundreds of fabric flowers stitched together by the Korean artist Kyung Hwa Kim—is titled People massacred in the valley (2024). The plants are native to the site of a mass killing of leftists and alleged leftists in 1950s Korea. Kim’s work stuns, but other pieces feel overly fixated on history: Footnote Art that mines historical minutiae to no real end in wan installations and paintings, interesting enough but random.
    Activism is also everywhere, for better and for worse. Subversive Film, a Palestinian collective that took part in the fraught Documenta 15 in Kassel in 2022, is on hand with a compilation of film clips from anti-colonial and worker movements. Here, too, is the Indonesian group Taring Padi, which displayed a piece with anti-Semitic imagery in that show, igniting a firestorm. Its contributions in Busan include frenetic banners from peasant protests back home and a low wall (a barricade?) made of bags of rice. (Midway through my visit, I hear a man with a Germanic accent muttering to his companion, “Documenta redux, Documenta redux.”)
    “Glitch Barricade,” a solo show of protest photographer Seo Young-geol’s work that was staged as part of the biennale by Hong Jin-hwon.
    There are more nuanced and fruitful approaches. One the biennial’s highlights is a miniature solo show-within-the-show of Seo Young-geol’s photographs of tense pro-democracy demonstrations in South Korea in the 1980s and ‘90s. It was organized by the filmmaker Hong Jin-hown, who’s printed Seo’s images in a variety of sizes, pasting some to the wall and framing others, building a chaotic collage of people chanting, waving banners, crying. In a neighboring theater, Hong has a two-channel documentary, Double Slit (2024), that looks at how leaders of those protests became elected officials, abandoned radical aims, and formed a new establishment. Post-viewing, those heroic snapshots are tinged with melancholy.
    Yun Suknam, a pioneering feminist artist in Korea in her mid-80s, has a series of affecting portraits of women involved in the nation’s fight for independence from Japan in the early 20th century. No depictions remain of some of these figures, who worked in obscurity, so Yun drew on archival texts, using pencil and pigment to make the only ones that now exist. And in a chilling video by the Chinese artist Chen Xiaoyun, Night/2.4KM, the camera follows a group of young men—construction workers or farmers, perhaps—as they march through the night. They are carrying sticks and shovels, as if headed toward a brawl, but they never arrive. They just keep going. The piece is from 2009, but it feels awfully of the moment.
    A partial installation view Mugunghwa Pirates (2024), portraits of South Korean presidents as pirates by of Koo Hunjoo, who also works under the name Kay2. It’s on view at the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum.
    The biennial’s stated themes are doozies: “pirate enlightenment,” borrowing from anthropologist David Graeber’s eponymous 2023 book, which posits that communities formed by descendants of pirates in 18th-century Madagascar helped inspire the European Enlightenment, as well as Buddhist enlightenment. (These phenomena provide means of “seeing in the dark,” in a very expansive sense, you might argue.) Pirate and Buddhist iconography get big play here.
    Seven pirates smile from gold frames in the basement of the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum, one of the biennial’s three satellite locations. They’re the work of a Busan street artist named aka Koo Hunjoo, a.k.a. Kay2, who has literalized Graeber’s thesis by taking spray paint to official-looking portraits of South Korea’s democratically elected presidents, détourning the besuited politicians with black hats, scrappy beards, and missing teeth. It’s goofy, but it does have a certain piquancy following the uproar caused by a high school student’s amusing caricature of the current president (as Thomas the Tank Engine, controlled by his wife).
    Eugene Jung’s W💀W (Waves of Wreckage), 2024.
    Back at the museum, the young gun Eugene Jung, who works in Seoul and New York, ripped open walls to a gallery where she scattered about all sorts of construction materials (plywood, steel pipes). The 2024 work, W💀W (Waves of Wreckage), “resembles a temporarily wrecked pirate ship,” a wall label claims, and while I can’t quite see that, I am impressed by the raw energy, the mayhem, of the effort—a reasonable response to life right now. On the roof of an abandoned house in the heart of this city of 3.5 million, Jung placed rugged, charred sculptures that could be fragments of an enormous sphere that has been cracked open in some unnamed disaster. (It vaguely recalls Fritz Koenig’s 1968–71 Sphere, which was smashed on 9/11.)
    In some of the most potent work in the biennial, artists invent new languages or create private worlds. There’s the Jamaican American Douglas R. Ewart, who makes charismatic instruments out of things like crutches and cake pans, paying tribute to people like Sun Ra and George Floyd; Doowon Lee, with his joyful garden paintings; and the Togolese-Belgian photographer Hélène Amouzou, who toys with camera techniques to make unforgettable black-and-white self-portraits where she has a furtive presence, there and not there, only giving her viewers so much.
    Daejin Choi, And, nothing was said, 2024.
    The work that has really stuck with me, though, is one of the most traditional. It’s a massive ink drawing on paper, à la Raymond Pettibon, by the Korean artist Daejin Choi, and it shows about a dozen elite South Korean commandos in a raft (the kind of subject that rarely appears in exhibitions of vanguard-minded contemporary art). These soldiers are wearing wetsuits and goggles, training, perhaps prepping for some clandestine strike. You might think of it as a companion piece to Arocha’s nearly invisible Snow.
    Death hovers in the air here, too, but with cold clarity. Choi has rendered these men with loose brushstrokes, and it almost looks like they could evanesce into a pool of ink at any moment. For now, though, we can see them clearly.
    See more images of the Busan Biennale below.
    Carla Arocha’s Snow (2003/2024), a wall painted with almost invisible color.
    Partial installation view of Shooshie Sulaiman and I Wayan Darmadi’s PETA – One cloud, nine drops of rain (2024) at Choryang House.
    Installation view of Nika Dubrovsky’s three-channel video work Fight Club (2022) at the Hansung1918 venue.
    Cheikh Ndiaye’s Le Paris (2024) at the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum.
    Absolutely wild photographs by Oladélé Ajiboyé Bamgboyé at the Busan Modern and Contemporary History Museum.
    At left, Joe Namy’s Dub Plants (2024); at right, Omar Chowdhury’s short film BAN♡ITS (2024).
    A (nearly) empty room containing a sound work by Daejin Choi, Kim ChooJa Medley No. 2 (2024).
    [embedded content]Daejin Choi’s Kim ChooJa Medley No. 2 (2024) slows down an album by that popular singer of the 1970s and ’80s so that it lasts 24 hours.
    Single-print etchings on paper by Fred Bervoets from 1997. Each is titled Mijn Stad (“My City”).
    Partial view of Ishikawa Mao’s The Great Ryukyu Photo Scroll part 10 (2023), which takes up moments in Okinawan history.
    Paintings by Doowon Lee.
    Tracy Naa Koshie Thompson’s Kimchi-Waakye (2024).
    Ghostly self-portraits by Hélène Amouzou, highlights of the Busan Biennale.
    Two paintings by Bang Jeong A, Those Enlightened in the Water, which shows a Buddhist Arhat (a saint), and Growing Claws-Becoming, both from 2024.
    Golrokh Nafisi with Ahmadali Kadivar, Continuous cities, 2024.
    John Vea’s Section 69ZD Employment Relations Act 2000 (2019) (2024), a break room-as-installation that can be used by visitors during set break times: 15 minutes at 10 a.m., 30 minutes at noon, and 15 minutes at 3 p.m.
    Installation view of the 2024 Busan Biennale, with Nathalie Muchamad’s ENRIQUE (2024) at left.
    Jasmine Togo-Brisby’s short video piece It Is Not a Place (2024).
    Song Cheon, Avalokiteshvara and Mary-The Truth Has Never Left My Side, 2024.
    Works from Yun Suknam’s “Women of Resistance Series” (2020–23), which depict women who fought for Korea’s independence from Japan.
    Untitled works by Kanitha Tith from between 2000 and 2024 at the Busan Museum of Contemporary Art.
    Taring Padi’s Memedi Sawah/Scarecrow Installation (2024).
    Inside Doowon Lee’s The flower garden of BUDDHA-BEE in a caravan (2024). More

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    Snik – Still Life – Manchester UK

    SNIK have made a strong return to Manchester’s Northern Quarter, unveiling a new 20-meter mural that promises to become yet another iconic landmark in the city. The artists, whose work last appeared in Manchester in 2018, have made a big move with their latest work, entitled Still Life. The mural aims to create a little oasis of calm in the busy city.Still Life blends seamlessly into the area’s creative heritage, while also offering a reminder to appreciate the beauty and tranquility that can be found in our surroundings. SNIK explain; “With Still Life, we wanted to create something that not only enhances the urban landscape but also encourages people to take a step back and appreciate the little things, the moments of calm that we often overlook.”Still Life is an ode to Manchester’s love for street art and serves as a reminder of the city’s dynamic and ever-evolving cultural scene. This new work is set to become a cherished part of Manchester’s artistic heritage, much like its predecessor, Serenity, which remains a solid fixture in the city.Snikstagram More

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    Jean-Michel Basquiat Meets a Roman Venus at Gagosian Paris

    In a rare meeting between the classical and the contemporary, Gagosian’s Paris gallery has staged a show pairing an ancient Roman sculpture with work by Jean-Michel Basquiat. The sculpture of the goddess Venus juxtaposed with Basquiat’s 1982 painting offers viewers a new lens through which to view the late artist’s still-resonant oeuvre.
    The painting, Untitled, which itself features the outline of a classical Venus statue, is part of a series Basquiat painted at the age of 21 while staying in Modena in northern Italy. He had been invited there by the dealer Emilio Mazzoli to produce an exhibition but, after the pair fell out, the eight works were eventually sold by the artist’s New York gallerist Annina Nosei. They were only seen together for the first time last year, at a once-in-a-lifetime exhibition at the Fondation Beyeler near Basel, Switzerland.
    Asked about his experience in Modena years later, Basquiat likened it to “a sick factory. I hated it. I wanted to be a star, not a gallery mascot.” Shortly before this nightmare sojourn, however, he had enjoyed a visit to Rome with his then-girlfriend Suzanne Mallouk, who he used to refer to as “Venus.”
    The ways in which the art that he saw on that trip must have informed Basquiat are particularly evident in his ambiguous Untitled. A Roman statue of Venus is paired with a typically expressive female figure with arms outstretched and a head crowned by dynamic ringlets. Above her shines a halo and to her left are pieces of fruit. The bunch of grapes evokes both classical Bacchanalian scenes and a similar still-life in Picasso’s Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, which Basquiat often admired at MoMA in New York. This painting has also been likened to Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus and canvases by Cy Twombly.
    Installation view of “Jean-Michel Basquiat: Venus” at Gagosian Paris, 2024. Photo: Thomas Lannes, courtesy Gagosian, licensed by Artestar, New York; © Fondazione Torlonia, © Estate of Jean-Michel Basquiat.

    “[Basquiat] had a great grasp of the history of art and visual culture and was brilliant at bringing the past to life in his paintings,” Larry Gagosian said. “His work reminds us of the common chords and resonances of beauty and identity throughout art history.”

    Capturing the breadth of Basquiat’s references, Untitled has been reunited with another of its inspirations. The statue is on loan from the Torlonia Collection in Rome, the world’s largest private holding of Roman antiquities that is rarely seen in public. In turn, Gagosian is supporting the conservation of the marble figure.
    “We want to bring the viewer closer to the influences that Basquiat was absorbing during his trip to Italy,” explained Gagosian’s senior director in Paris, Serena Cattaneo Adorno. “He was drawing on so many references, gathered on his travels, and he poured them back into the eight [Modena] works, in a series that is unique within his practice for its momentum, operatic emotion and overarching narrative.”
    “The compositions are dominated mostly by single figures, so they give the impression of leitmotifs in an operatic narrative taking place in multiple acts,” she added, “through the characters of an angel, a devil, a prophet, a miser, a farmhand, and—of course—the goddess Venus.”
    Adorno said Gagosian has chosen the Torlonia Venus for how its “complete and perfect form” provides “an evocation of classical motifs that we see strongly influencing Jean-Michel’s thoughts at the moment he created this unparalleled Modena series.”
    “Jean-Michel Basquiat: Venus” is on view at Gagosian Paris through December 20.  More

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    In Montreal, An Exhibition Serves Up the Splendors, Sins, and Silliness of Flemish Art

    In the 16th century, a small sliver of the world became the pulsing nexus of a new world order—and with it blossomed one of the most robust eras in the history of Western art.
    “Saints, Sinners, Lovers and Fools: Three Hundred Years of Flemish Masterworks,” an exhibition at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, tells the story of the rise of small-but-mighty Flanders from 1400 to 1700, through a curation of some 150 paintings, drawings, sculptures, prints, and objects (on view through October 25). Oil painting makes up the backbone of the show, with over 130 canvases on view by towering artists including Peter Paul Rubens, Pieter Bruegel, and Anthony Van Dyck, among many others (including several women).
    View of the exhibition Saints, Sinners, Lovers and Fools: Three Hundred Years of Flemish Masterworks. Photo MMFA, Denis Farley
    “This period is important because it had such an outsized impact on the history of art,” said Chloé M. Pelletier, the curator of the Montreal installation of the show. “Here we see the invention of oil painting and the flourishing of the publication industry. The print trade is largely based in Antwerp. In the late 16th century, Antwerp is also at the center of trade for vast global empires.” A new class of people arose in its wake, including middle- and upper-class merchants, bankers, and industrialists with disposable incomes who became engaged in the art world, and the nascent art market, and reshaped what art could be in a wholly novel way.
    “Artists in this era had more possibilities of what they could create. It wasn’t just the Church commissioning an altarpiece,” said Pelletier, “There’s a merchant who wanted a portrait or a devotional work for their own home. The market becomes richer and richer and new genres arise to meet that market. Landscape painting emerges for the first time as an independent genre. We see genre scenes or scenes of daily life as well as those of raucous behavior.”
    View of the exhibition “Saints, Sinners, Lovers and Fools: Three Hundred Years of Flemish Masterworks” 2024. Photo MMFA, Denis Farley
    Curated thematically, rather than chronologically, the exhibition hopes to draw in new audiences who might have preconceived notions of what Flemish art is, and what this show is decidedly not is somber and stuffy. With extensive and rare loans from the Phoebus Foundation in Antwerp, Belgium, which co-organized the exhibition with the Denver Art Museum, viewers are given a sweeping and often sumptuous and at times downright bawdy window into the world of Flemish art. In Montreal, the exhibition is bolstered by 14 additional works from the museum’s collection. “It’s a new way to present this period in a way that’s more dynamic and gives people an access point,” said Pelletier.
    Accompanying the exhibition is a sprawling, 432-page richly illustrated catalogue by Katharina Van Cauteren, the chief of staff of the Phoebus Foundation, who spearheaded the exhibition. After Montreal, the exhibition travels to the Peabody-Essex Museum in Massachusetts.
    With one week left in the Montreal location, we chose a few of the dazzling artworks on view that might help you see Flemish art in a whole new way.
    Frans Snyders, A Pantry with Game (ca. 1640)
    Frans Snyders, A Pantry with Game (about 1640). © The Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium.

    Frans Snyders’s monumental still life A Pantry with Game greets viewers at the entryway to the exhibition, setting the tone for the visual abundance that awaits. Synders, who was a trailblazing still life painter in the 17th century, here builds up a toppling abundance of foods—fowl, lobster, artichokes, wild boar, rabbits, asparagus, fruits, and much more—in the foreground of the composition. The bounty looks as though it might tumble out from the canvas, or the viewer, alternately, might be able to step right in.
    A cup of berries, a shiny lobster, and a bright red tablecloth add a dynamic focal point, at the center, holding the disparate elements together. While imagery such as this would have appealed to the new class of merchants with country homes where they arranged big feasts, the painting also offers a concurrent symbolic reading between desire and restraint at work that would have been legible to people of its time. The leashed dogs on the left of the canvas signify these contradictory impulses between indulgence and reserve.
    Jan Massys, Riddle, The World Feeds Many Fools (ca. 1530)
    Jan Massys, Riddle: The World Feeds Many Fools  (about 1530). © The Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium.
    As the exhibition title “Saints, Sinners, Lovers, and Fools” suggests, one section of the exhibition focuses on the weird and wonderful comedic scenes of the era.  Sometimes paintings of “fools” were intended as warnings against the pitfalls of various temptations. Other times, these over-the-top absurd scenes were intended to engage viewers in a visual game. The painting above, for example, is a rebus, a visual puzzle the viewer is asked to solve. Four symbols appear above the two jester-like men, which form a pictorial riddle. When said aloud the names of the four symbols sound similar to the Dutch idiom  “the world feeds many fools.”  These popular visual riddles are not unlike the meme-culture associating language and imagery we know today.
    Hendrick de Clerck and Denijs van Alsloot, The Garden of Eden with the Four Elements (1613)
    Hendrick de Clerck and Denijs van Alsloot, The Garden of Eden with the Four Elements (1613). © The Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium.
    This visually dazzling painting in oil on copper is a quizzical, but not uncommon mix of Christian and mythological imagery. The painting is the work of two artists. Hendrik de Clerck, a painter of altarpieces and other devotional pictures, who began to focus on cabinet pieces, painted the figures while the landscape is by an artist named Denis van Alsloot. Personifications of the four elements—air, fire, water, and earth—occupy the center of the composition, each surrounded by their defining attributes. These mythical figures are juxtaposed with biblical stories relating to Adam and Eve. Floating above the scene is a heavenly scene of god and a choir of angels. The painting, which hints at European colonial expansions through the exotic animals and fruit pictures, perhaps suggests an idealized scene in which the world exists harmoniously under Christianity.
    Michaelina Wautier, Everyone to His Taste (ca. 1650)
    Michaelina Wautier, Everyone to His Taste  (about 1650) © The Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium.
    This is one of several paintings by women artists included in the exhibition. In her own time, the artist Michaelina Wautier carved an unlikely, but celebrated path as an unmarried woman artist. Born to a wealthy family, her brother was also a painter, and Wautier, in the relative safety of her position, cultivated her talents painting still lifes as well as portraits and history paintings. Over the centuries Wautier was written out of history, with many of her works attributed to her brother. Only a few years ago did a true reappraisal of her legacy begin.
    In this tender and exquisitely luminous painting, two boys interact; one boy in white holds an egg with a bite taken from it while another boy in black reaches as though to snatch it. Wautier represented children in her work on several occasions including a painting of boys blowing bubbles that’s in the collection of the Seattle Art Museum. Here the luminous handling of whites and the rosy cheeks of the boys is captivating and so life-like that one is tempted to reach out for the egg, too.

    Peeter Neeffs the Younger and Gillis van Tillborch, Elegant Couple in an Art Cabinet (1652, and ca. 1675)
    Peeter Neeffs the Younger and Gillis van Tillborch, Elegant Couple in an Art Cabinet (1652, and about 1675) © The Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium.
    Perhaps no painting better encapsulates the entirety of the “Saints, Sinners, Lovers and Fools,” than Elegant Couple in an Art Cabinet. In the early 1600s, a new kind of collector had emerged—the connoisseur. These collectors were knowledgeable about the qualities that defined different artists and genres. With these connoisseurs concurrently arose the ‘kunstkammer’ or the collector cabinets where rooms of artworks and objects were displayed together. These rooms were sometimes depicted on canvas, too. Elegant Couple in an Art Cabinet represents the genre well. The bourgeois Flemish interior features a couple at the center, with recognizable paintings such as Titian’s Rape of Europa and Jacob Jordaens’ Mercury and Argus. What’s truly fascinating about this composition, however, is that macro-XRF scans reveal that the couple was a later addition and that an original group of three male connoisseurs examining the paintings had been painted over. Such paintings reveal that collector cabinet paintings, too, changed hands and were conceived as adaptable scenes that changed with new collectors, a living, shifting creation, rather than a static entity.

    Catarina Ykens II, Vanitas Bust of a Lady (1688) 
    Catarina Ykens II, Vanitas Bust of a Lady (1688). Courtesy of the Phoebus Foundation, Antwerp, Belgium
    This uncanny image is the work of the artist Catarina Yken, the daughter of artist Jan Ykens. Her paintings are rarely known today, but she is best known for her still-life paintings, especially flowers. This unusual scene of oil paint on oak panel is both a morbid and comic vision. A brown-hued skull with white tufts of hair sits atop a lifelike woman’s bust draped with a pearl necklace, at the bottom of her décolletage, a sprig of leaves and berries catches the attention of a bird perched on her shoulder. Flemish artists, acquainted with the realities of death through war and illness, maintained their characteristic sense of levity. More

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    Doug Wheeler and Ad Reinhardt Offer Different Modes of Minimalism at Two-for-One Shows

    Two very different Minimalist exhibitions are wrapping up this week in New York, from masters of their respective rivulets, Doug Wheeler and Ad Reinhardt. Both reveal the meticulous complexity that goes into creating something deceptively simple. They have radically varying styles and approaches, but both reach for the sublime.
    David Zwirner’s 20th Street location is hosting both shows. The 84-year-old Light and Space pioneer Wheeler’s dreamlike installation “Day Night Day” occupies the ground floor. “Print—Painting—Maquette,” which primarily explores Reinhardt’s late-period printmaking, is on the floor above. Both exhibitions close on October 19. Although the shows are unrelated, they forge such a fluid, accidental dialogue that they feel interconnected. They offer a welcome antidote to the unbearable strife of the news cycle— Reinhardt’s abstractions are serene and cerebral, while Wheeler provides an immersive, otherworldly experience.
    Doug Wheeler, “DN ND WD 180 EN – NY 24” (2024). © Doug Wheeler. Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner.
    Visitors must don protective disposable booties over their shoes to not scuff the pristine matte and gloss white floors of the installation component of Wheeler’s exhibition, “DN ND WD 180 EN – NY 24.” Four visitors are allowed in at a time for two-and-a-half-minute intervals, and the waitlist fills up, so come early. Photos and videos are also not allowed. Viewers enter a room with two faintly glowing rectangular walls. I was initially chuffed and satisfied just by this sole component, until a gallery staffer explained that I could walk through it.
    Doug Wheeler, “DN ND WD 180 EN – NY 24,” 2024 © Doug Wheeler. Courtesy the artist and David Zwirner.
    The wall’s illusory solidity is so palpable it triggers a confusing split second of fear as you trepidatiously step into it and enter a heavenly void where you are surrounded by limitless, luminous space. It’s a transcendent experience, and one that can’t be captured in any of the corny, high-tech experiential exhibitions currently proliferating. Upon exiting the celestial afterlife void, be sure to hang a left to see the artist’s intricate drawings detailing the plans for the work, gorgeous ink and graphite schematics.
    Installation view, “Ad Reinhardt: Print—Painting—Maquette,” David Zwirner, New York, 2024. © Anna Reinhardt/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, 2024. Courtesy David Zwirner.
    There are also plenty of preparatory studies at Reinhardt’s “Print-Painting-Maquette,” one flight up. The abstract Minimalist (1913–67) has always been an artist both buoyed and stymied by his subtlety—when it comes to photographing his work, the nuances of his chromatic explorations are lost. Those “black” monochromes might read as just one murky, matte shade in a photo, but they encompass a rich, inky world of various hues and almost subliminal patterns.
    Ad Reinhardt, Printer’s maquette for Untitled from X + X (Ten Works by Ten Painters) (c. 1964). © Anna Reinhardt/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, 2024. Courtesy David Zwirner.
    The exhibition was curated by Jeffrey Weiss, formerly curator and head of Modern and contemporary art at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., and organized in collaboration with the Ad Reinhardt Foundation. The 1966 screenprints attest to “his interest in translating the subtleties of his painted work into the print medium,” according to press materials. It’s revelatory to see his diagrams for the prints, based on earlier paintings. This is the first show devoted to these prints, but the various small paintings also included are a more magnetic, visceral draw, creating an intriguing counterpoint to the main focus.
    Taken in together, the shows are an intriguing journey into light and darkness.
    Installation view, “Ad Reinhardt: Print—Painting—Maquette,” David Zwirner, New York, 2024. © Anna Reinhardt/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, 2024. Courtesy David Zwirner.
    Doug Wheeler, “Day Night Day,” and Ad Reinhardt, “Print—Painting—Maquette,” are on view at David Zwirner, 537 West 20th Street, New York, through October 19. More

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    With a New Show at Musée d’Orsay, Elmgreen and Dragset Are Writing Fragile Masculinities Back Into Art History

    In a city like Paris, full of monuments to famous conquests and heroic figures from history, the artist duo Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset take a different tack. For a new exhibition at the prestigious Musée d’Orsay, their vision is to bring a different cast of characters into the room, masculine protagonists, and ones of a more fragile nature. The artists will remind you, too, that these characters have always been there with us throughout history. We just tend to forget them, because they get written out of the hero tales we tell ourselves. They are in soft focus.
    Their exhibition, called “L’Addition,” opens to the public this week at the French institution, a venue that presented some unique challenges even for these seasoned artists. The rules at the Musée d’Orsay are different. For one thing, the museum’s main concourse is open six days a week, so installation timelines were tighter than usual, leaving less room for improvisation or error. Another thing: The institution’s 19th-century sculptures and paintings had to remain in place, staying right where they have been for some 40 years, since the former Gare d’Orsay train station was first converted into a museum. Absolutely nothing could be rebuilt or reworked. “There are a handful of museums in the world that this is worth the sacrifice for,” said Dragset.
    Elmgreen & Dragset L’Addition Musée d’Orsay Nave October 15, 2024 – February 2, 2025 Installation image credit: Image courtesy Elmgreen & Dragset, Musée d’Orsay. Photography by Andrea Rossetti, 2024
    A Mirror World
    For these two artists, subverting or playing with the museum structure is a core aspect of their practice. One of their early works was of an animatronic bird, installed between the interior and exterior glass at the Tate Modern in 2004. It was twitching on its back. Their very first sculpture was of a diving board, and it penetrated surrealistically between the interior and exterior of the museum wall at the Louisiana Museum in Denmark. “We always do some kind of transformation and we use a museum as our material,” noted Michael Elmgreen. “And the Musée d’Orsay is not a place that is normally up for big changes.”
    Since 2006, the museum has been building contemporary art into its historic program with ongoing temporary exhibitions called “Correspondences.” But this marks the first time that the grand hall, with its most iconic Belle Époque clock looming above. It is a place of deep history and identity for Paris. The duo, then, have flipped the museum’s concourse on its head with some “additions,” an intervention Dragset described as a “queering of the space.”
    In spite of the main hall’s epic beauty, it remains a passageway that visitors move through in order to get to the Van Goghs. “It’s an overlooked part of the museum in a way,” said Dragset. “People perceive it as almost ambient.”
    Elmgreen & Dragset L’Addition Musée d’Orsay Nave October 15, 2024 – February 2, 2025 Installation image credit: Image courtesy Elmgreen & Dragset, Musée d’Orsay. Photography by Andrea Rossetti, 2024
    They innovated a replica of the floor that hangs above the 19th century sculptures in marble and bronze. In this reflected area overhead, a sort of shadow world, Elmgreen and Dragset have hung their sculptures depicting soft and poetic visions of masculine youth upside down. “Fragile depictions of masculinity have been written out of art history,” Elmgreen said. The two wanted to focus on “the expectations one still has of young male persons and what they’re supposed to become.”
    A hyperrealistic sculpture of a boy hunched over a piece of paper, drawing a stick figure rendition of David, which appears towering above him in a painting of a bacchanalian Roman scene, a sumptuous painted critique of Rome’s decadence. He’s also crossed the delicate barrier that protects the painting from the public. “We could somehow imagine that we are at a similar stage of our culture before it implodes,” said Dragset. “They are probably having more fun, but that also imploded when it became moralistic and puritan.”
    Youth
    Nearby Eugène Guillaume’s marble rendering of the Greek poet Anacréon, who has his arm outstretched to receive a small bird on his hand is Boy With Drone (2024). He echoes the gesture of the poet, but is about to let his toy machine lift off. Another young masculine figure sits (well, hangs) on a laundry machine, presumably waiting for his clothes to clean; it echoes a tradition in painting depicting society performing of quotidian tasks. Another of Elmgreen and Dragset’s figures gazes out from a V.R. headset, hands on his hips.
    It is hard to say how old these figures should be—they seem to exist in a suspended period of youth somewhere between 12 and 20. “These are our children growing up in troubled times,” Elmgreen said before a large group of guests that had gathered in the hall during its press preview earlier this week.
    Elmgreen & Dragset L’Addition Musée d’Orsay Nave October 15, 2024 – February 2, 2025 Installation image credit: Image courtesy Elmgreen & Dragset, Musée d’Orsay. Photography by Andrea Rossetti, 2024
    Behind the two artists loomed one of the most striking works of the show: a boy standing at the edge of a diving board, contemplating the marble expanse below him. Carved in stark white, he cuts a peculiar figure against the ornate opulence of the museum’s domed ceiling. “When a child is looking off a diving board, which is the bravest decision, to jump or stand back down?” he added.
    The metaphor of waiting for adulthood seems to also be a stand-in for wider societal change as well; a sense of a pent-up potential energy is almost palpable when you look at this new group of sculptures. Everyone is alone and waiting, in between two action points in a plot line. They feel deeply melancholic, captured in interior states.
    Elmgreen & Dragset L’Addition Musée d’Orsay Nave October 15, 2024 – February 2, 2025 Installation image credit: Image courtesy Elmgreen & Dragset, Musée d’Orsay. Photography by Andrea Rossetti, 2024
    Questions & Answers
    The origin story of Elmgreen and Dragset is one of human connection, and it is both romantic and almost fateful. They met in a nightclub in Copenhagen.  They pieced together that, by chance, they lived in the same building; they were a couple for many years before amicably splitting—their art practice exists, they have said, as a child they share.
    When we met at their studio in Berlin in late September, we stood among the sculptures set to head to the French museum. The converted water facility in Neukolln makes for a striking workspace: It is resplendent, and not far from the river, on a quiet cobblestone street, with towering factory-like ceilings (a good height for prototyping their towering boy on a diving board). The interior balcony is set up with working spaces for their team members, and an in-house chef was preparing lunch. They always eat together when possible. The top floor of the studio is an exquisite apartment with a grand piano, a library of books, and a suspended fireplace. We drink from Moomins mugs.
    Elmgreen & Dragset L’Addition Musée d’Orsay Nave October 15, 2024 – February 2, 2025 Installation image credit: Image courtesy Elmgreen & Dragset, Musée d’Orsay. Photography by Andrea Rossetti, 2024
    “We are attempting to understand what’s going on around us, what’s happening to the world,” said Dragset. “It’s probing and testing, a research into what’s happening to us emotionally rather than trying to find answers, because they are probably not there.” There is a political bent to all their work, but a tidy answer does not emerge, nor do their exhibitions preach a moral lesson. They do, however, conjure empathy.
    It is an interesting moment to take up the question of the male gaze. There are important discussions about the male gaze as it is directed to women, but the male gaze also lingers on itself, on young men and idealized male bodies. “Feminism has been much better at discussing women’s position in society, whereas men are still finding complexity in conversations around masculinity,” said Dragset.
    “Watching” (2024) presented at the Amorepacific Museum of Art. Courtesy of the artists. Photo: Elmar Vestner
    The Gaze and Technology
    The two say they watch keenly how the public navigates their installations, which always have a dramaturgy that incorporates interactive elements. One feels a natural pull to build out a narrative, and they nurture this by planting some prompts. For their major exhibition that recently opened at the Amorepacific Museum of Art in Korea, a hyperrealistic sculpture of a young woman sits alone in a realistic restaurant that the duo completely designed and invented. She is on her phone, listening to a looping FaceTime call; a photograph of that same character seems to reappear in another part of the installation, a luxury apartment that they duo built inside the museum. The audience may try to piece these strands of a narrative together, but it would be in vain.
    Visitors to their shows often pull out their phones, too. There is something particularly captivating about Elmgreen and Dragset’s work when it comes to online consumption. Their famous work Prada Marfa, installed in rural Texas in 2005, came years before Instagram; by now, it has become an influencer destination and a self-sustaining internet phenomenon and not the hidden land art project they intended it to be. Many of their sculptures reflect the duo’s concerns about the isolating aspects of technology and of how we, as viewers, relate to technology, with the audience’s own connection to it becoming an integral part of the experience.
    “The Conversation” (2024) presented at the Amorepacific Museum of Art. Courtesy of the artists. Photo: Elmar Vestner
    The pieces invite a form of self-reflection—just as the VR-goggle-wearing youth in Paris is immersed in technology, so too is the woman in the Korean show, absorbed in her digital world, in a private moment in a public space. This mirroring highlights the pervasive role of technology in our lives, prompting viewers to question their own engagement with it.
    The artists are always intrigued by which elements of their work resonate most with audiences. It’s often surprising which details capture attention. For example, in the Korean exhibition, a fridge magnet in the fictional restaurant that reads “Home is the place you left” has become a focal point, with many visitors sharing it online.
    This detailed-oriented engagement, even through social media and phone screens, is something Elmgreen and Dragset find encouraging. “It creates a dialogue that previously didn’t exist in the art world. You’d present your work, people would visit, but you rarely got direct feedback or insight into their reactions,” says Elmgreen. “Now, there’s a whole new level of communication between the artist and the audience.”
    The artists are comfortable with the varying interpretations and evolving meanings of their works. “It’s like parenting grown-up children,” Dragset explains. “Once they’ve left the house, you can’t control their lives. You offer something, and the world interprets and uses it in its own way.”
    L’Addition is on view from October 15 through February 2 at Musee-d’Orsay. More

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    In His Latest Role, Johnny Depp Tries His Hand at Art, With a Big Show of Stuff in New York

    Johnny Depp, not content with playing a gangster, chocolatier, and man with scissors for hands, has landed his greatest starring role yet: artist. Don’t believe it? The beloved actor and musician has now opened a massive exhibition of his art in New York to demonstrate his bona fides and illustrate how artistry just flows through his veins, man.
    Titled “A Bunch of Stuff,” the show is billed as a “multi-layered immersive exhibition” bringing together various works that Depp has created over the years. “Some may call it art, some may not; I call it mine,” he wrote in introductory wall text. In effect, through his paintings and collages, we’re trailing the artist on his creative journey, which has closely mirrored his personal life. “His art,” as organizer Bau Art touts it, “is emotion made flesh.”
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    The expansive exhibition venue in Chelsea makes that journey literal. One enters the show through a winding path draped with lush red curtains, before being released into an area dubbed the White Box, featuring dozens of thematic works. Another room called the Black Box plays an animated film, while outside of it are pieces of furniture from the artist’s studio and a wall where visitors can leave messages for the star. You exit through a gift shop stocked with merchandise and silkscreen prints.
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    It’s as much a showcase of art as it is a trip into Depp’s mind and an unironic exercise in self-mythologizing, fitting for a man who’s come up in show business. (Of note, the exhibition opens as Modi, the Depp-directed Amadeo Modigliani biopic—that modern-day form of hagiography—is making the film festival rounds.) So, what kind of artist is Depp? What’s he been cooking up in the studio? What is his emotion made flesh? Here’s a bunch of stuff in the show.

    His word paintings
    Johnny Depp, Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride (2021) on view at “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    These pieces feature hand-lettering by Depp that spells out various slogans, such as “Question Everything” and “The Joke Is on Us, But Aren’t Jokes Meant to be Funny.” The show’s accompanying leaflet informs us that they “recall” the work of Ralph Steadman—the artist best known for his illustrations for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, a non-fiction touchstone by Hunter S. Thompson, who Depp depicted in a 1998 film—though that’s putting things delicately. Fear and Loathing has evidently shaped the actor enough that the show opens with a piece bluntly scrawled with “Buy the Ticket, Take the Ride,” a turn of phrase lifted from Thompson’s famed tome.
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff,” featuring Johnny Depp’s “Hedy Lamarr” series. Photo: Min Chen.
    More interesting is his “Hedy Lamarr” series, a sequence of “graffiti-style paintings” with words taken from the Depp and Jeff Beck track about the Hollywood star and inventor. While still obviously aping Steadman’s style, they evince more care in composition, pops of color, and ink blots that echo the lyrics’ sentiment. The most vividly visual piece contains the song’s opening line: “Erased by the same world that made her a star.”

    An actual… bunch of stuff
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    In a blue-curtained area is an installation featuring cables hanging from the ceiling and threaded with diverse artifacts. There are feathers, sketches, small collages, cigarette papers, postcards, bookmarks, and cryptic musings on hotel stationery. These are presumably relics pulled from the actor’s archive (or pockets?) and offer the promised peek into his creative thinking—the art of his life, as he might even put it.

    The other paintings
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    As we know from his 2023 sale of prints that reportedly netted him millions, Depp enjoys capturing his friends and compatriots on canvas. In “A Bunch of Stuff,” he’s included studies of Marlon Brando, Jack Kerouac, and Keith Richards, as well as tender portraits of his son Jack and his darling dog Moohman. There are paintings of mysterious characters that Depp has imagined as well, among them “Everyman” and “The Bunnyman,” the exhibition text tells me.
    These works vary in style; some have been painted on canvases composed of cigarette papers, which lend the works unique textures.
    Johnny Depp, Moohman (2008) on view at “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    It seems the actor also has a thing for skulls (maybe because he once played a pirate). A whole series depicts skeletons and skulls as forms of memento mori. A pointillist work frames a skeleton with the stenciled phrase “Death by Confetti,” which Depp explains in an accompanying film thusly: “The business celebrates you… they build you up to this great height, but you’re choking on that. I think the skeletons understand that.”
    Johnny Depp, Death by Confetti – Celebration (2019–24) (detail) on view at “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    Between this skull and the Hedy Lamarr tribute, one can’t help but sense Depp’s frustration about the damage to his public standing following his 2022 legal battle with ex-wife Amber Heard—his “cancellation,” per the parlance of our times. Or perhaps, in his own words, he’s just “cursed with a dark sense of humor.”

    This desk
    Installation view of “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    The space called the White Box is installed with pieces of furniture in what appear to be recreations of Depp’s private spaces. One looks like a studio, staged with an easel and a cabinet of paint supplies; another a living room, complete with an electric guitar in a corner and a cluttered coffee table. At the entrance to the exhibition, there’s an impressive antique writing desk stacked with a typewriter and all manner of knickknacks—a bell, a magnifying glass, a skull of course, and a cymbal case stickered with old backstage passes, among others. Is this Depp’s actual desk, a stage for his artsy inclinations, or both? No idea, but the desk is very nice.

    An animated “visual experience”
    Inside the Black Box at “A Bunch of Stuff.” Photo: Min Chen.
    A 13-minute film or “visual experience,” per the exhibition text, plays on loop in the Black Box, animating Depp’s artworks and featuring his narration. In it, he recounts episodes from his life—his nomadic upbringing, his friendship with Brando—and shares how he’s been guided by a creative impulse since he was a child drawing on the walls.
    Created by the experiential team TAIT, the film is quite compelling, lending movement and meaning to Depp’s artistic oeuvre, while being unwittingly revealing. “I’ve been more people than most people have been,” he intones in his voiceover. “The question becomes, is there anything that I can offer? Is there anything uniquely me that I can add?” They’re good questions to ask.
    “A Bunch of Stuff” is on view at the Starrett-Lehigh Building, 600 W 27th St, New York. More