More stories

  • in

    Kara Walker’s Museum Survey in Basel Is Difficult, Disturbing—and Very Necessary

    Black American contemporary painter, installation artist, silhouettist, print-maker, and filmmaker Kara Walker’s large-scale presentation of more than 600 works at the Kunstmuseum Basel in Switzerland reads as something like the excavation of masterworks from an artist’s mind. Assembling works from some 30 years, the survey is a grand collection of archival works, plans, inner thoughts, and dreams, and seems to be both an exhibition and an imaginative biography of a Black woman’s life over time. The show, titled “A Black Hole Is Everything a Star Longs to Be,” magnifies the United States’s realities of prejudice, perversion, and plunder, offering a taunting exposé of the racial, psychological, and (at times) psychosexual ties that bind and cut.
    Across a broad assemblage of sketches, collages, newspaper clippings, handwritten notes, and confessions, Walker’s black pencil and deft ink strokes blur the spectator’s capacity to decipher which figures represent races, Black, white, or biracial. This blurring is symbolically important: One could say that she depicts descendants on both the right or wrong side of slavery, both the protagonists and the antagonists—but not necessarily clearly arrayed on either side, but betwixt or in between. Her vignettes, scribbles, and typed tales narrate both the artist’s and viewers’ imagined stories of social subjugation, restitution, and emancipation, sprouting from her preoccupation with the unseemly psychic aspects of a racialized master/slave dynamic.
    Walker’s critics would say that the deliberately controversial style of her art warrants questioning her position as a Black commercial artist. The fact that such images are favored by an unregulated art market might also provoke some ethical questions for gallerists and collectors. Such difficult questions emerge from the way that Walker’s work displays either an inability or a refusal to positively represent one race of people—a task Black artists are often assigned.
    Instead, I believe Walker has carved a liberated path for herself and her career exactly by refusing to censor her mind for the prudishness of any audience’s eyes. Walker’s pattern of playing with expected tropes is unmatched. In this epic showcase, this proposition is perhaps most memorably demonstrated in the cathartic “Success and the Stench of Ingratitude,” her 2012 series where the artist reflects on BLACK ARTISTS I ASPIRE TO BE LESS LIKE (as a text embedded in the work states), offering a list: “broke,” “forgotten,” “taken advantage of,” “bitter,” “crassly-commercial,” “short-lived,” and so on.
    Installation view of “Kara Walker: A black hole is everything a star longs to be” at the Kunstmuseum Basel. Photo by Julian Salinas, courtesy Kunstmuseum Basel.
    Works within her series “Untitled” (2002-2004) and “Palmetto Libretto” (2012) embody the artist’s knack for mimicry and startling transposition of racially inspired violence. Throughout these series and in several other works by Walker, audiences find artworks depicting what seems to be sexual domination if not torture or abuse. In one image, a black mandingo and white woman appear to be locked in fierce intercourse within the bush. In another, a Black woman resembling the artist herself is drawn, tired-eyed, day-dreaming of an orgy scene featuring white men with disfigured bodies, one notably armed with a nose resembling a male’s member, molesting a handcuffed Black woman who resembles the character Mammy, played by Hatti McDaniel in Gone with the Wind. In other works, characters with white masks, akin to the Klu Klux Klan, maraud as they haunt the night.
    With such images, Walker creates a form of art that is alarming to both Black and white folk, besmirching the hierarchical and archetypal roles that persist in American popular culture and folklore. Her practice deliberately exaggerates images of orientalist desires and Black minstrels. Stereotyped Black body parts such as big lips, hips, and dicks persist. Yet I read Walker’s themes of sadomasochistic lust and fascination with interracial sex, domination, and submission, with their mix of grief, pleasure, and guilt, as actually a way to claim a sense of strength—by decimating one-dimensional narratives of power.
    Installation view of “Kara Walker: A black hole is everything a star longs to be” at the Kunstmuseum Basel. Photo by Julian Salinas, courtesy Kunstmuseum Basel.
    I’d argue that the key to Walker’s hold over her audience is the alternation of conditions of control. In some works, slavers enjoy power by inflicting entrapment, shame, and disgrace. In others, Walker creates dreamscapes where Black characters are desired, courted, and return the favor of racially inspired violence to white figures, seemingly both deserving and undeserving. Facing this kind of manipulation of the imagery of racialized or gendered domination and fetish, the spectator—whether the ancestor of a victim or perpetrator—is both enthralled and shamed by Walker’s heinous sketches of fantasies known to exist, but restricted to private life.
    A surface-level encounter with Walker’s work can offend the untrained eye. But by a deeper interaction, we might see the invention of a new constellation of thought about race, power, gender, sex, and violence. This artist’s ability to collapse definitions, boundaries, and inherited associations might unlock a new route to taking control over narratives that we can, in fact, have autonomy over.
    “Kara Walker: A Black Hole Is Everything a Star Longs to Be” is on view at the Kunstmuseum Basel, through September 26, 2021.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    ‘I Got an Illicit Thrill’: Watch Artist Brian Jungen Cut Up Nike Sneakers to Expose How Consumer Culture Exploits Native Communities

    What do Nike sneakers and Native American art have in common? For Vancouver-based artist Brian Jungen, it’s clear: they’re both highly commodified.
    When the artist, who’s heritage is Dane-zaa, visited a Nike store in the early 1990s, he saw pristine leather and rubber shoes sitting in vitrines, like priceless relics, ogled and swooned over by throngs of visitors. The artist began to make connections between the color schemes, shapes, and patterns in the sneakers and those in native northwest coast masks. 
    In an exclusive interview filmed as part of Art21’s “Art in the Twenty-First Century” series in 2016, the artist described the commonalities as a “strange coincidence,” and then got to work with the spark of an idea.
    “There was this kind of illicit thrill I got,” he told Art21, in “buying these AirJordans and, like, immediately starting to kind of cut them up.” Carving up the shoes, Jungen creates new objects from the materials, which he sews together and reconstitutes as artworks that recall native masks from British Columbia tribes, as well as modernist abstractions. 
    Brian Jungen, installation view of “The Evening Redness in the West” (2006). Photo: SITE Photography. Courtesy Catriona Jeffries, Vancouver, courtesy of the Hammer Museum.
    Jungen’s work is now on view at L.A.’s Hammer Museum as part of the “Hammer Contemporary Collection” series of exhibitions. For the installation The Evening Redness in the West (2006), the artist sliced up softballs to create skull-like objects, the sewing stitches creating garish skeletal grins in the leather. The skulls are attached to cords linking to a DVD player that blasts audio from old Western films, pointing to the history of colonialism and violence inflicted on native communities in Hollywood (and beyond).
    In his work, Jungen subtly, yet deftly highlights the unsavory and exploitative aspects of consumer culture that are so often ignored, all while paying homage to his native roots.
    Watch the video, which originally appeared as part of Art21’s Art in the Twenty-First Century series, below. “Hammer Contemporary Collection: Brian Jungen” is on view through October 31, 2021 at the Hammer Museum.
    [embedded content]

    This is an installment of “Art on Video,” a collaboration between Artnet News and Art21 that brings you clips of newsmaking artists. A new series of the nonprofit Art21’s flagship series Art in the Twenty-First Century is available now on PBS. Catch all episodes of other series, like New York Close Up and Extended Play, and learn about the organization’s educational programs at Art21.org.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    Art Collective Meow Wolf Just Opened Its Largest Immersive Funhouse to Date in Denver—and It’s Bigger Than the Guggenheim

    Visitors to the Mile High City can lose themselves in the intergalactic funhouse that is Convergence Station, the third permanent exhibition from art collective-turned-multimillion-dollar arts production company Meow Wolf.
    Nestled on an oddly-shaped lot between two arms of freeway overpasses, the new immersive art attraction fills a 90,000-square-foot custom-built facility, with four floors of interactive art installations that promise hours of exploration. (For context: it’s larger than both the Whitney Museum of American Art and the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York.)
    Founded by a group of young artists in Santa Fe in 2008, Meow Wolf got $3.5 million in funding from Game of Thrones author and local resident George R.R. Martin to open its first permanent location in 2016. The House of Eternal Return was an immediate sensation, drawing crowds eager to experience—and take photos amid—its immersive environment of what appears at first glance to be an abandoned family home, but is somehow tied to portals to other dimensions.
    The project’s success presaged the explosion of interest in immersive experiences, which in recent years have multiplied worldwide and become the most popular way for the general public to experience arts and culture.
    Meow Wolf launched ambitious plans to expand to other cities around the country, and a second location, Las Vegas’s Omega Mart, opened in February of this year. (The pandemic scuttled outposts in Washington, D.C., and Phoenix, but the founders promised Artnet News that other ventures are on the horizon.)
    A room by Andrea Thurber at Meow Wolf Convergence Station, Denver. Photo by Kennedy Cottrell.
    Like its predecessors, Convergence Station is more than an art show. It’s a world unto itself—or four of them, to be precise, each representing a parallel universe that, as the lore goes, merged during a mysterious cosmic event back in 1994. There’s an frozen planet trapped in a 1,000-year ice age, a trash-filled city, a mysterious network of catacombs, and a six-dimensional being taking the form of a cavern that calls to mind Jim Henson’s Fraggle Rock.
    The installations are all constructed around Meow Wolf’s elaborate, Marvel-style mythology. According to the lore, the Quantum Department of Transportation, or Q-DOT, opened the Convergence Station as a tourist destination for intergalactic travelers. But mysterious weather events called memory storms forced it to shut down. The memories of denizens of all four lands have fragmented and scattered, and the resulting free-floating “mems” have become a valuable form of currency in the Converged Worlds.
    Should you wish to explore this complicated backstory, you can get a Q Pass card (which will either be free or cost $1) and tap into the Convergence Exchange Network devices. Piecing together matching mems will reveal short pieces of animated content that begin to unfold the backstory of the characters and the deeper mystery of how the convergence came to be. More

  • in

    ‘We Wanted to Unmoor Her From the 1950s’: A Joan Mitchell Retrospective at SFMOMA Shows the Artist as You’ve Never Seen Her Before

    For the first time in nearly 20 years, the late Abstract Expressionist painter Joan Mitchell is the subject of a major U.S. museum show, bringing together more than 80 canvases at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.
    The show, organized with the support of the Joan Mitchell Foundation, opens with a pair of Mitchell’s student works, painted in a Cubist style right after her graduation from the Art Institute of Chicago while she was visiting Paris, where she would move permanently in 1959.
    One of those canvases, Figure and the City (1949–50), “was a touchstone for us,” Sarah Roberts, SFMOMA’s head of painting and sculpture, told Artnet News during a tour of the show. “Mitchell said that when she painted it, she knew it was going to be the last figurative painting she ever made. And it was very much about the psychology and the mood of the figure, and the landscape around her.”
    Not long after came Mitchell’s breakthrough period, and the works that established her as a key member of the New York School of painters.
    Joan Mitchell, Untitled (1948). Photo by Kris Graves, collection of Joan Mitchell Foundation, ©estate of Joan Mitchell, courtesy of Cheim and Read, New York.
    “There’s transition for every artist from being a student or a young person to being a full-fledged artist,” Katy Siegel, senior programming and research curator at the Baltimore Museum of Art, told Artnet News. “Where Mitchell finds herself is incredibly thrilling, so the declarativeness and definitiveness of a work like To the Harbormaster [1957], which is so ambitious in scale, is really important.”
    From the start of Mitchell’s career, her self-assurance as an artist was clear, and she seemed to be comfortable expressing her power in a variety of ways.
    “She was an athletic genius. She was not only a diver and and horseback rider, Mitchell was an actual champion figure skater,” Siegel said. “Her confidence in her physicality, her ability to move big paintings by herself, to really navigate a very large canvas, that is really unusual.”
    Joan Mitchell, To the Harbormaster (1957). Photo by Tony Prikryl; AKSArt LP; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Roberts and Siegel co-curated the exhibition, which was originally slated to debut at the Baltimore Museum in 2020. (It will now be the show’s second venue.) Plans for “Joan Mitchell” to travel to the Guggenheim in New York had to be scrapped when lockdowns scrambled exhibition calendars. Instead, it will head to the Fondation Louis Vuitton in Paris next fall.
    The show coincides with an ongoing resurgence of interest in Mitchell’s work and her place in the Ab-Ex movement. The show was announced in 2018, during the Art Basel fair in Switzerland, where around $70 million worth of art by Mitchell was on offer. The artist also set a new $16.6 million auction record that month, according to the Artnet Price Database.
    But even with the recent market surge—which made insuring the show a far more complicated prospect, according to organizers—Mitchell’s work is “still undervalued, in my opinion,” Roberts said. In comparison, Franz Kline’s work has fetched up to $40.4 million at auction; Jackson Pollock, $58.36 million; Willem de Kooning, $68.9 million.
    More important for the curators, however, is that any rise in Mitchell’s market be matched by an increase in scholarly interest in her more than four-decade career, which, like that of so many other women artists, was for a time largely written out of the art historical canon.
    Joan Mitchell, Petit Matin (1982). Photo by Ian Lefebvre; private collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    “There are so many stories that need to be told by museums, for women artists, artists of color, LGBTQ artists. With Mitchell, here is an artist who is a woman who is a really great artist, no questions asked, no equivocations. That’s what we wanted to do with the show first and foremost,” Siegel said. “If one of the ways that gets expressed is the market, that’s fine, but that’s the least interesting way.”
    Despite the obstacles faced by women artists of her era, Mitchell remained an integral part of the Abstract Expressionist movement. “In 1950, Mitchell comes back to New York [from Paris] and she immediately starts showing,” Roberts said. “The labeling of her as ‘Second Generation’ is such a disservice, because she was very much there and being shown and discussed and respected and part of the conversation. They only apply that term to women and artists of color.”
    “There’s a very specific understanding of Mitchell in the United States that is completely rooted in that New York, early 1950s, Ab-Ex moment,” Roberts added. “People look at the rest of her work as either a tailing off from that high point, or they discuss it in the same terminology when it radically changes.”
    Joan Mitchell, Vétheuil (1967–68). Photo by Brian Buckley; courtesy of Joan Mitchell Catalogue Raisonne; private collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    “We wanted to unmoor her from the 1950s, and put the different parts of her career together to tell a Transatlantic story,” Siegel added.
    Siegel and Roberts hope that the show will underscore Mitchell’s undeniable artistic genius—but they also acknowledge her dark side.
    “Mitchell was a difficult person. Anyone you talked to would will tell you stories of fights, her saying unconscionably unkind things to people. She was an alcoholic, and not a nice one, so she alienated a lot of people over the course of her life,” Roberts said. “But you will also find people, particularly younger artists, to whom she was very nurturing. She was a very complicated person.”
    Joan Mitchell, Sans neige (1969). Collection of the Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh, purchased with funds provided by the Hillman Foundation; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    To help paint a more complete picture of the artist’s career outside of that highly visible New York moment, the curators sought out rarely exhibited works by Mitchell, such as Sans neige (1969). The 16.5-foot-wide painting was her first large-scale triptych, and it hasn’t been shown since the late 1970s, when the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh decided that the student library wasn’t the safest place to display a work of such magnitude.
    “It had been in storage ever since,” Roberts said. “It needed some treatment, but the museum rallied their team and resources, and heroically got the painting ready to travel.”
    The work illustrates the importance of landscape in Mitchell’s abstract visual language—a factor to which she had been attuned since her Chicago childhood, when she grew up in a tower overlooking Lake Michigan.
    Joan Mitchell, My Landscape II (1967). Collection of the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, D.C., gift of Mr. and Mrs. David K. Anderson, Martha Jackson Memorial Collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    “Mitchell talked throughout her entire life about how formative the wind, the weather, the light, the color, and the constant changing of the lake was to her sense of landscape and to her visual intelligence,” Roberts said.
    This influence becomes more pronounced in the second half of the show, with works made in France in the 1970s and ’80s, inspired by everything from Paris Metro stations to sailing on the Mediterranean with her long-time partner Jean-Paul Riopelle. (He documented those trips in home movies, a snippet of which plays on loop in the gallery.)
    The exhibition is arranged chronologically, following Mitchell across the decades. “We wanted to tell the story of Mitchell’s art from Mitchell’s perspective, as she experienced it, in suites or cycles of work,” Siegel said.
    There’s the moment when Mitchell and Riopelle put a final end to their fraught 20-year relationship, and she responds with La Vie en rose (1979), a four-panel masterpiece measuring more than 22 feet wide.
    Joan Mitchell, La Vie en Rose (1979). Collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, anonymous gift and purchase, George A. Hearn Fund, by exchange; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    “It’s an incredibly tough, but very ambitious declaration of independence and philosophy and mourning and grief all at the same time,” Roberts said.
    “As a woman alone, she’s really rising to the occasion and making paintings at a scale that she’s never made before,” Siegel agreed.
    The exhibition ends with works made just months before the artist’s death, from lung cancer in 1992. The powerful paintings clearly show Mitchell still exploring new ideas on massive canvases despite her illness.
    “Mitchell knowns she’s not in great health, and she knows her time is limited, and she’s really fully herself,” Siegel said.
    Joan Mitchell, Sunflowers (1990–91). Photo by Brian Buckley; courtesy of Joan Mitchell Catalogue Raisonne; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    “She keeps trying new things and pushing herself, and you see that right to the end,” Roberts added.
    In the early stages of planning, the curators hoped to include as many as 125 pieces, including a large selection of Mitchell’s works on paper. In the end, the scope proved somewhat narrower.
    “We couldn’t do everything,” Siegel said. “We hope that this overview is definitive when it comes to the big picture of Mitchell, but there’s so much more to do.”
    “Joan Mitchell” is on view at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art September 4, 2021–January 17, 2022. It will travel to the Baltimore Museum of Art, 10 Art Museum Drive, Baltimore, Maryland, March 6, 2022—August 14, 2022; and the Fondation Louis Vuitton, 8 Av. du Mahatma Gandhi, 75116 Paris, France, fall 2022. 
    Joan Mitchell, La Ligne de la rupture (1970–71). Photo by Clint Jenkins; private collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, City Landscape (1955). Photo by Aimee Marshall the Art Institute of Chicago, gift of Society for Contemporary American Art, ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Ode to Joy (A Poem by Frank O’Hara) 1970–71. Photo by Biff Henrich for ING_INK, Buffalo, New York; collection of University at Buffalo Art Galleries, gift of Rebecca Anderson; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Rock Bottom (1960). Collection of the Blanton Museum of Art, the University of Texas at Austin, gift of Mari and James A. Michener; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, The Bridge (1956). Photo by Kris Graves; Fredriksen Family Art Collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Untitled (1973). Photo by Brian Buckley for Joan Mitchell Catalogue Raisonne; private collection; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, No Birds (1987–88). Photo by Kris Graves, ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Untitled (1992). Photo courtesy of Cheim and Read, New York, Komal Shah and Gaurav Garg Collection, ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Lyric (1951). Photo by Chip Porter; collection of the Frances Lehman Loeb Art Center, Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, New York, gift of William Rubin; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Bracket (1989). Photo by Katherine Du Tiel; the Doris and Donald Fisher Collection at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, No Rain (1976). Collection the Museum of Modern Art, New York, gift of the estate of Joan Mitchell; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Joan Mitchell, Weeds (1976). Photo by Ian Lefebvre for the Art Gallery of Ontario; collection of irshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., gift of Joseph H. Hirshhorn; ©estate of Joan Mitchell.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    Hoping to Snag Art Basel-Bound Buyers, Berlin Dealers Showcased Their Emerging Talent for the Fall Edition of the City’s Gallery Weekend

    For Gallery Weekend Berlin, it seems the second time’s the charm. This year, the event decided to split off into two separate iterations, in April and September, in part to uplift galleries at a time of great uncertainty over fair calendar, but also because its usual spring slot has, for the past two years, coincided with significant health restrictions in the city.
    The weekend city-wides series of exhibitions is normally a time when out-of-town collectors bop around the sprawled-out city’s galleries in event-sponsored BMWs. Over the years, dealers have tended to report strong sales relative to the low cost of staging presentations from the comfort of their own galleries.
    And though this year was markedly different, moods remained high. Collectors from within Europe—and at least one from China—passed through the city-wide event on their way to Art Basel, which is opening today. The timing proved a little tight for German dealers trying to head there early to install at the fair’s Unlimited or Parcours sections this past weekend. Because most dealers had to leave, participants convinced Gallery Weekend to close on Sunday, a day earlier than originally planned.
    Thornton Dial’s All the Cats in Town (1993) at Société.
    Despite the hurdles, the event this week had an air of triumph. Most of the 47 participating galleries followed the brief to present a so-called “discovery” position—giving space, an increasingly precious commodity in Berlin, to younger or emerging artists (with lower price points, usually) who have a bent towards experimentation.
    Germany-based artists were among the most exciting presentations, including Brook Hsu, who showed moody green-hued paintings at Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler. At Esther Schipper, newly represented Berlin-based artist Cemile Sahin considered her Kurdish migrant background with a contemporary reflection on the treaty of Sèvres, which redrew borders after World War I and deconstructed the Ottoman Empire (one of the works was bought by the Bundeskunsthalle, Germany’s federal art collection and exhibition space).
    At Guido W. Baudach, the young German artist Jasmin Werner, considered the strange saga of the Palast der Republik, the former East German seat of government that was destroyed to make way for the Humboldt Forum. (The building’s remains were sold off to Dubai to become a part of the Burj Khalifa.)
    Cemille Sahin. Courtesy the artist and Esther Schipper, Berlin. Photo © Andrea Rossetti.
    The gallery Société opted not to show a discovery per se, but an artist long overlooked in Europe, the Alabama-born painter Thornton Dial, who died in 2016. Working with the artist’s estate, David Lewis Gallery, and Souls Grown Deep Foundation, the gallery managed to bring half a dozen large, sculptural canvases comprised of materials from everyday life in America.
    On the whole, the city was in a discovery mode: An election is underway, which means a whole new host of politicians will begin to shape the city’s fragile cultural landscape—and top museum positions were filled last week, including by Klaus Biesenbach, who is taking the reins at Neue Nationalgalerie. In the meantime, the city teeters is on a precipice, gridlocked by a lack of space, be it homes, studios, or gallery spaces.
    See images of the exhibitions below.
    Courtesy the artist & Galerie Guido W. Baudach. Photo: Roman März
    Robert Rehfeldt, Installation view at ChertLudde during Gallery Weekend, September 2021. Photo by Stefan Korte.
    Christophe Aque, Installation view at Sweetwater during Gallery Weekend, September 2021, Photo by Stefan Korte.
    Win McCarthy, Installation view at Galerie Neu during Gallery Weekend, September 2021, Photo by Stefan Korte.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    In Pictures: Millennial Art Star Avery Singer Conjures Dazzling Paintings Out of Digital Chaos in Her Debut Show at Hauser & Wirth

    For her debut exhibition at Hauser & Wirth, New York City-based artist Avery Singer has cemented her place as one of the most in-demand young artists working today—and, at 34, the youngest artist on the blue-chip gallery’s roster.
    Singer’s series of 14 paintings line the walls of the gallery’s second- and fifth-floor and show off the Singer’s deft blending of analog and digital, combining disparate narratives and themes. A bona fide art star whose work has been heralded at the Venice Biennale and is coveted at auction, Singer has clearly hit her stride.
    In the works on view, some of which are noted as being “studies,” Singer’s intensive, layered process is clear. Each canvas becomes a portal to tapping into the hive mind, where references to art history and internet memes sit cheek to jowl, and it’s easy to imagine references to artists as diverse as Keith Haring and M.C. Escher, Bunny Rogers and Sarah Sze, Julie Mehretu and Giorgio Morandi buzzing about.
    One of the new works, China Chalet (2021), eulogizes the erstwhile “unassuming dim sum restaurant” that doubled as a sweaty den of iniquity for the young and restless denizens of lower Manhattan. The fractured work has a lot of White Claw cans, iPhones, and what looks to be a prescription pill bottle.
    Avery Singer, China Chalet (2021). Courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin.© Avery Singer Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Another work, titled Wojak Battle Scene, features the meme-ified Feels Guy, a sad bald man who entered a certain corner of Internet culture in the early 2010s.
    According to former Artnet News columnist Nate Freeman, Singer’s larger canvases carried a price tag of a cool $1.2 million. Singer remains the most expensive millennial artist—and Marc Payot told Vanity Fair that interest remains high, noting “it’s not a question of if we sell but when we sell.”
    “Avery Singer: Reality Ender” is on view at Hauser & Wirth through October 30. See more images from the show, below.
    Installation view “Avery Singer. Reality Ender” at Hauser & Wirth, New York. Picturing: Studio (2019); Sculptor (2021); and Wojack Battle Scene (2021). © Avery Singer, courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin. Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Avery Singer, Happening (2021). Courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin.© Avery Singer Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Avery Singer, Sculptor (2021). Courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin.© Avery Singer Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Installation view “Avery Singer. Reality Ender” at Hauser & Wirth, New York. Picturing: Studio (2019) and Sculptor ( 2021). © Avery Singer, courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin. Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Installation view, “Avery SInger. Reality Ender” at Hauser & Wirth New York. Picturing: Side Quest (2021); Sculptor (Study) (2021); Sculptor (2021); and Happening (2021). © Avery Singer, courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin. Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Installation view “Avery Singer. Reality Ender” at Hauser & Wirth, New York. Picturing: Studio (2019); Sculptor (2021); and Wojack Battle Scene (2021). © Avery Singer, courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin. Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Installation view “Avery Singer. Reality Ender” at Hauser & Wirth, New York. Picturing: Technique (2021); China Chalet (2021); and Edgelord (2021). © Avery Singer, courtesy the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Kraupa-Tuskany Zeidler, Berlin. Photo: Lance Brewer.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    In Pictures: See the Joyful Works Included in Frieze Sculpture 2021, From a Pearlescent Monolith to a Quirky Pineapple

    Signs of fall have arrived in London. The air is brisk, leaves are beginning to change color, and a promenade through one of London’s royal parks leads to a parcours of contemporary sculpture. It can only mean one thing: Frieze Week is around the corner.
    Now a yearly fixture teasing the arrival of the Frieze fairs in Regent’s Park, Frieze Sculpture opened to the public on September 14, a little later in the year than its usual summer opening due to ongoing complications relating to shipping. 
    At the unveiling, Frieze London’s artistic director Eva Langret promised that Frieze and Frieze Masters, returning October 13–17 after a pandemic hiatus, will be back in force. The curator of the sculpture program, Clare Lilley (who is also the director of program at Yorkshire Sculpture Park), highlighted the global character of this year’s selection, with artists hailing from South America, South and North Africa, Indonesia, Pakistan, the U.S. and Canada, and Europe.
    “I see exciting sculptural conversations across time and geography, and while many sculptures here relate to social and environmental concerns, there is much heightened color and dextrous handling of material, resulting in an overall sense that is celebratory,” Lilley said in a statement. “As we learn to live with the pandemic and emerge into public spaces, Frieze Sculpture 2021 allows people to come together in safety and with pleasure and is a tonic for the mind, body, and soul.”
    Counterspace, fragment of Serpentine Pavilion 2021 for Frieze Sculpture 2021. Presented by Serpentine Galleries, London. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    The works, by 18 artists spanning three generations, range from soapstone skulls by Solange Pessoa to a quirky pineapple courtesy of Rose Wylie to Vanessa da Silva’s joyful steel-and-fiberglass figures, Muamba Grove.
    One highlight is a fragment of this year’s Serpentine Pavilion, a gathering table designed by Johannesburg architectural studio Counterspace; its inclusion marks the first time one of the U.K.’s public institutions has taken part in the Frieze initiative (the other works are presented by commercial galleries). By extending the pavilion’s tendrils outside of its traditional home in Hyde Park, the installation is suggestive of themes relating to migration and displacement. Another notable entry is artist-preservationist Jorge Otero-Pailos’s Biosignature Preservation (2019), a repurposing of the security fence erected by the U.S. Embassy in Oslo after 9/11 that recalls contorted iron rebar left after bombings or natural disaster.
    Frieze Sculpture is on view at the English Gardens in Regent’s Park, London, through October 31. See more images below.
    Annie Morris, Stack 9, Ultramarine Blue (2021), presented by Timothy Taylor. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Anthony Caro, Palanquin (1987/1991), presented by New Art Centre. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Jorge Otero-Pailos, Biosignature Preservation (2019), presented by Holtermann Fine Art. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Isamu Noguchi, Play Sculpture, ca. 1965/ca. 1980 (fabricated 2021), presented by White Cube. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Vanessa da Silva, Muamba Grove #1, #3, and #4 (2019), presented by Galeria Duarte Sequeira. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Gisela Colón, Quantum Shift (Parabolic Monolith Sirius Titanium) (2021), presented by Gavlak. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Ibrahim El-Salahi, Meditation Tree (2018), presented by Vigo Gallery. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Tatiana Wolska, Untitled (module 1 and 2) (2019), presented by L’Etrangère and Irène Laub Gallery. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Solange Pessoa, Untitled, from “Skull” series (2016), presented by Mendes Wood DM. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Stoyan Dechev, Event Horizon (2019), presented by Anca Poterasu Gallery. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Rose Wylie, Pineapple (2020), presented by David Zwirner. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.
    Yunizar, Induk Monster (Mother Monster) (2017), presented by Gajah Gallery. Photo: Linda Nylind, courtesy of Linda Nylind/Frieze.

    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More

  • in

    In Pictures: See Inside the Met Costume Institute’s Ode to American Style, Which Presents U.S. Fashions for Every Mood

    Earlier this year, when the Metropolitan Museum of Art announced Timothée Chalamet, Billie Eilish, Amanda Gorman, and Naomi Osaka as co-hosts of the Met Gala, it signaled a new phase in American celebrity culture. After all, the actor, singer, poet laureate, and athlete are all under the age of 30—the faces of a generation defined by its activism.
    Just days after the 20th anniversary of the September 11 terror attacks, and on the same day as the House Foreign Relations Committee grilled top brass on the botched Afghanistan withdrawal, the timing of this year’s Costume Institute show was, in a word, fraught. This was proven when a cadre of demonstrators crashed the tony step-and-repeat—not to mention the fact that a slew of the evening’s guests chose to wear non-American designers.
    Nonetheless, the much-anticipated return to in-person red-carpet events was a sight to behold, kicking off a two-part exhibition at the Met. It will open to the public later this week, on a staggered timeline: part one, titled “In America: A Lexicon of Fashion” runs from September 18, 2021 through September 5, 2022; and part two, “In America: An Anthology of Fashion,” will run from May 5, 2022 through September 5, 2022.
    Back in April, the Costume Institute curator Andrew Bolton told Vogue that U.S.-centric exhibitions were a long time coming; the last show to home in on the topic was “American Ingenuity” in 1998, and in the intervening years, the fashion industry—as well as the political, social, and cultural realms—have all undergone a serious recalculation.
    “I really do believe that American fashion is undergoing a Renaissance,” Bolton told the magazine. “I think young designers in particular are at the vanguard of discussions about diversity and inclusion, as well as sustainability and transparency, much more so than their European counterparts, maybe with the exception of the English designers.”
    Andre Walker’s Pendleton Woolen Mills coat, Spring/Summer 2018. Courtesy of Andre Walker Studio. Image © Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    The exhibition, in the Anna Wintour Costume Center, is based around the framework of a house, with each imagined room representing a feeling that corresponds to the spirit of a particular garment or runway collection.
    The porch, Bolton explained, is categorized by warmth and visualized through a blanket-coat that Andre Walker designed with Pendleton Woolen Mills, paying homage to the Oregon-based company that was founded in 1863. And in the garden room, Oscar de la Renta’s floral-festooned dresses—over the years favored by Taylor Swift and Wintour herself—represent joy and rebirth.
    Below, see more images from “In America: A Lexicon of Fashion.”
    Ensemble, Fall/Winter 1982-83 Ralph Lauren. Image © Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Nostalgia (right) and Belonging (left). Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Consciousness. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Sterling Ruby Studio, VEIL FLAG (2020). Courtesy of Sterling Ruby Studio. Photo: Melanie Schiff.
    Gallery view, Belonging. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Delight. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Assurance. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Ensemble, Donna Karan Fall/Winter 1985-86. Image © Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Wonder (left) and Warmth (right). Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Wonder. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Gallery view, Comfort. Image © The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    Follow Artnet News on Facebook: Want to stay ahead of the art world? Subscribe to our newsletter to get the breaking news, eye-opening interviews, and incisive critical takes that drive the conversation forward. More