More stories

  • in

    13 Must-See Museum Exhibitions in Europe This Summer, From Modernist Rediscoveries in Scandinavia to a Kusama Blockbuster in Bilbao

    By all indications, this summer will be another record-setting season for travel. With Americans’ trips alone surging 55 percent over last year—which was already a sixfold increase compared to 2021—chances are you, or someone you know, will be jetting around the continent during the next three months. No path across Europe is complete without a visit or two to its renowned art institutions, so here’s our list of the most intriguing European museum shows to have on your radar (or to share with others) while hitting the cobblestones or autobahns this summer. 
     

    “Ragnar Kjartansson: Epic Waste of Love and Understanding”
    Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebaek, Denmark 
    Through October 22, 2023
    Still from Ragnar Kjartansson, No Tomorrow (2022). Courtesy of the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humlebaek, Denmark.
    Scandinavia’s first major retrospective of Ragnar Kjartansson presents two decades of the Icelandic contemporary artist’s creations across a multitude of mediums. Connected by an underlying pathos and irony, Kjartansson’s works tread an ambiguous line between the tragic and the comic, whether they’re commenting on how we understand ourselves, our myths, power structures, or masculine identities. In addition to popular hits such as The End (2009) and The Visitors (2012), be sure to catch entirely new projects created for Louisiana’s exhibition, including the marbled plywood monument at the main entrance and the new performance Bangemand (Scaredman). 

    “Thorvald Hellesen. Pioneering Cubism”
    National Museum, Oslo, Norway 
    Through August 20, 2023  More

  • in

    A Portuguese Biennial Staged an Exhibition About the Country’s Legacy of Slavery. Then Its Host Venue Dismantled It

    At an exhibition staged by the Porto Photography Biennial in Portugal, visitors have been laying red carnations alongside artworks. The flower is a symbol of democratic liberation in the country and inside the Centro Hospitalar Conde de Ferreira, its presence is a protest against the decision to censor a multimedia exhibition.
    “Vento (A)mar,” a site-specific installation by Dori Nigro and Paulo Pinto, sought to spark dialogue on Portugal’s slave trafficking legacy inside a hospital bequeathed by a profiteer of the very industry, Conde de Ferreira. The exhibition, located across 10 rooms of psychiatric hospital’s panopticon, succeeded, though not perhaps precisely as the Brazilian artists had intended.
    View of Panopticon at the hospital. Photo: courtesy José Sergio.
    At the show’s opening on May 20, the hospital banned access to a room exhibiting mirrors etched with words challenging the legacy of Conde de Ferreira, including one that read: “How many enslaved people is a psychiatric hospital worth?” A week later, the room reopened with three works removed — all of which directly referenced the hospital’s founding patron. The work that remained was a sugar bowl with a portrait of Conde de Ferreira sat on a stool.
    In a statement, the hospital’s administrative board claimed to have been “affected” by the exhibition’s language, though insisted it remained committed to engaging its history “in an adequate way.”
    Room 7 of the panopticon at the Porto Biennial being closed. Photo: courtesy Porto Photography Biennial.
    The hospital’s move was unexpected and prompted the Porto Photography Biennial organizers to rapidly gather and come to a decision. Should they pull the show? Insist the censored works be remounted? Or continue with the censored version? The artists, curator Georgia Quintas, and the Biennial’s artistic directors decided to take the latter course staging “Vento (A)mar,” which means both “Wind at Sea” and “Wind to Love,” as altered by the hospital.
    “Continuing the exhibition in light of the act of censorship, gives voice to the issues raised in the exhibition,”Virgilio Ferreira and Jayne Dyer, co-artistic directors of the Biennial told Artnet News. “It offers time for reflection and a deeper examination and debate on the silencing of slavery which remains an open wound in Portuguese society.”
    The hospital’s censorship, the directors said, only further emphasized the need to offer space for the voices and perspectives of enslaved people and their descendants. “Slavery is embedded in the history of Portugal,” they said, “The exhibition reveals the sensitivity of the issue to recognize and deal with the consequences of this dark period in Portugal’s history.”
    After the mirror works were removed from room seven, a sugar bowl with a portrait of Conde de Ferreira remained. Photo: courtesy Porto Photography Biennial.
    The artists were taken aback by the hospital’s decision to censor the show, particularly given the accommodation they had received from the institution while setting up. They describe “Vento (A)mar” as a meditation on ancestral memory between Pernambuco, their Brazilian state of origin, and the city of Porto where they have settled. In response to the censorship, the artists will now collaborate with the Biennial on works that facilitate public debate and develop into longer-term projects.
    Currently in its third edition, the Porto Photography Biennial is presenting the work of 70 artists and 14 curators across 14 citywide venues, all open free to the public. “Vento (A)mar” is on view through July 1.

    More Trending Stories:  
    London’s National Portrait Gallery Responds to Rumors That Kate Middleton Pressured It to Remove a Portrait of Princes William and Harry 
    French Archaeologists Decry the Loss of 7,000-Year-Old Standing Stones on a Site That Was ‘Destroyed’ to Make Way for a DIY Store 
    Excavations at an Ancient Roman Fort in Spain Have Turned Up a 2,000-Year-Old Rock Carved With a Human Face and Phallus 
    Looking for an Art Excursion in New York This Summer? Here Are Four Perfect Itineraries That Combine Nature and Culture 
    Art Buyers Stopping Off in Zurich on Their Way to Art Basel Found Heady Exhibitions and a Market in Transition: It’s Now a Buyer’s Game 
    Researchers Find a Megalodon Tooth Necklace in the Titanic Wreckage—But the Rare Object Will Probably Have to Stay at the Bottom of the Sea 
    Archaeologists in Peru Used A.I. to Discover Ancient Geoglyphs of Killer Whales, Two-Headed Snakes, and Other Creatures Carved Into Land 
    Is Time Travel Real? Here Are 6 Tantalizing Pieces of Evidence From Art History 
    Nicolas Party Honors Rosalba Carriera, the Rococo Queen of Pastels, in a New Installation at the Frick 
    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

    Dive Into Environmental Artist Alexis Rockman’s New Show of Dazzling Watercolors Celebrating the Complexities of Ocean Life

    For its first contemporary art exhibition, “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus,” the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut invited the environmental artist to work with its resident scientists and curators to create a series of 10 new watercolors inspired by the complexities of ocean life. The level of detail in each piece warrants close attention, and a key describes all the real-life species—both endangered and invasive—that are depicted, sometimes symbiotically stacked on top of each other.
    At the center of the show is a monumental 24-foot-long canvas that explores the history of human interaction with the sea, from the first early sailors to travel in hand-hewn canoes to the football-field-sized container ships that throng international waterways today.
    Working with maritime historians like Michael Harrison of the Nantucket Historical Association and the Seaport’s curator of collection Krystal Rose, Rockman created a visual timeline of maritime technologies and activities. Dramatically lit photos of historic ship models from the Mystic museum’s collection, as well as a native mishoon, or dugout canoe, loaned by the nearby Mashantucket Pequot Museum, were used as references for the painting.
    “There are 18 of our boats in that painting,” Christina Connett Brophy, the institution’s senior director of museum galleries and senior vice president of curatorial affairs, told Artnet News. “But the models are not all the same scale—some of them are enormous, and some of them are really tiny. And so you see this magnificent big ship in the painting and realize the models are six inches long.”
    Installation view of “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” at the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut. Photo: courtesy of Mystic Seaport Museum.
    Each ship also carries its own important piece of history, from the famous slave ship Amistad, to the Thomas W. Lawson, a seven-masted cargo schooner that wrecked off the coast of Cornwall in the early 20th century, causing perhaps the first large-scale manmade oil spill.
    But perhaps Rockman’s closest collaborator for the show is James Carlton, a global expert on invasive species. “He had something to do with most of the paintings, advising on different animals to include and how things move around,” Brophy said. One of the watercolors, in particular, titled Transient Passages, shows various marine life hitching a transoceanic ride on a plastic bottle.
    “A few months after Alexis finished it, a big paper came out by Jim and several of his colleagues that look at the same themes,” Brophy added. “It proved that coastal creatures carried in water ballast and dumped in the middle of the Atlantic or the Pacific, where people think won’t survive because it’s not their habitat. They are doing just fine because of the plastic waste there.”
    Installation view of “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” at the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut. Photo: courtesy of Mystic Seaport Museum.
    Finding such a surprising note of optimism, in the face of environmental catastrophe, is an overall theme of the show, which also includes a side display on “blue technology,” or alternative maritime business models that are geared towards sustainability. Some examples include bio-plastics made from algae or designer shoe leather made from lionfish.
    “What I love about this series is that some of the themes are really difficult—I mean, they are extinct and invasive species, and oil spills and all kinds of things that are pretty tough—but the paintings are so beautiful and colorful. They seem almost celebratory of the animals that they’re depicting,” Brophy said. “And there are really smart people out there in the world who are trying to find solutions, and they’re doing amazing work.”
    Rockman and Brophy will attend a book signing for the exhibition catalog on World Oceans Day, June 8, at Rizzoli Bookstore, 1133 Broadway, New York.
    See images of the exhibition, as well as Rockman working on the centerpiece for show, below.
    Installation view of “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” at the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut. Photo: courtesy of Mystic Seaport Museum.
    Alexis Rockman, Oceanus (2022).
    Alexis Rockman, Benthos (2022).
    Installation view of “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” at the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut. Photo: courtesy of Mystic Seaport Museum.
    Alexis Rockman, Tsunami (2022).
    Installation view of “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” at the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut. Photo: courtesy of Mystic Seaport Museum.
    Alexis Rockman (center) with works from his “Oceanus” series in the studio.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Adam Reich.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Dorothy Spears.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Dorothy Spears.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Dorothy Spears.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Dorothy Spears.
    Alexis Rockman working on the eight-by-24-foot panoramic oil painting Oceanus (2022). Photo: Dorothy Spears.
    “Alexis Rockman: Oceanus” is on view at the Mystic Seaport Museum, 75 Greenmanville Ave, Mystic, Connecticut, through next spring.
    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

    How Hardcore Can Art Get? Does A.I. Need Therapy? And Other Thoughts in the Air at London Gallery Weekend

    The floors were a little sticky at the Groucho, a private members club in Soho that has attracted a louche cohort of creative and media types since the 1980s, and which has had something of a revival in the art scene since it was acquired last year by the hospitality arm of the Swiss gallerists behind Hauser and Wirth. The launch party for London Gallery Weekend was not quite equivalent to the downtown New York scenes snapped by writer and Warhol collaborator Bob Colacello (on view at Thaddaeus Ropac)—but still, a gaggle of beautiful people enjoyed summer spritzes alongside ascendent painters including Sasha Gordon and Joy Labinjo.
    For committed patrons of the arts, London’s nascent gallery weekend poses something of an impossible task. The city’s sprawling geography and the 150-odd participating galleries make it infinitely less manageable than its counterpart in say, Berlin. Between exhibitions, opening parties, and dinners, there is perhaps too much competing for your attention.
    Joy Labinjo and Precious Adesina attend the Frieze 91 x London Gallery weekend opening party celebrating London’s Creative Scene at The Groucho Club on June 1, 2023 in London, England. (Photo by Dave Benett/Getty Images for London Gallery Weekend x Frieze)
    But London needs this. Galleries here have had a tougher time recovering from the pandemic than in other centers. Those difficulties piled on top of the logistical hurdles and bad vibes accompanying Brexit, and even that was before skyrocketing inflation rates and wider uncertainty began to catch up with the art world. With a market that relies strongly on sales made outside of the country, and competition from Paris stealing a lot of the thunder of late, there is a lot riding on this event. It has to excite buyers at home and from abroad, and to create a mid-year moment in the calendar for the city outside of Frieze Week in October.
    So what does London’s art landscape have to offer? Here are some questions that were in the air going into the marathon weekend.
    Installation view of “To Bend the Ear of the Outer World: Conversations on contemporary abstract painting” at Gagoian in London, open until August 25, 2023. Photo courtesy of Gagosian.
    What even is “contemporary” abstraction?
    Ever since the rise of abstract painting in the early 20th century, public attention has at intervals tacked back and forth between a love of abstraction and figuration. As of now, in early-mid-2023, trendy figurative painting is enjoying a healthy moment in the spotlight. Yet a behemoth exhibition of 40 living abstract painters at Gagosian raised the question as to whether we are in the midst of a pendulum swing back in the other direction. “I think both have existed in parallel,” curator Gary Garrels told me at the opening of “To Bend the Ear of the Outer World.”
    “There has been a lot of public attention in recent years for figurative work and I’ve felt that there’s just as much good, interesting work being made that’s abstract and so wanted to forefront that,” Garrels added.
    The exhibition was stuffed with the stars of contemporary abstraction. Even amid stellar works by Gerhard Richter, Cecily Brown, and Frank Bowling, and fare by younger super-stars including Jadé Fadojutimi, you could discover some standout works by artists who have had less airtime of late. Among these were a canvas by Jacqueline Humphries capturing something of the distracting noise of modern life, and a meditative moment of quiet offered by way of Jennie C. Jones.
    Installation view, Jacqueline Humphries at Modern Art. Photo by Michael Brzezinski.
    There is certainly an appetite for the materiality of abstract painting as we emerge from the pandemic and start returning to events in person. The medium doesn’t offer up easy narrative threads and so its power demands an IRL viewing to take in the scale, color, texture, surface, and gestures being made. But what are the defining characteristics of abstract painting being made today?
    “I think it’s about the strength of individuals, the affirmation of individual identity and imagination,” Garrels said. “There’s no slot, no box that everybody’s trying to fit into. There’s no movement. It’s not Abstract Expressionism, it’s not Pop Art, it’s not Color Field… It’s just about individuals having a strength of their own convictions.”
    Jacqueline Humphries is also given solo real estate by Modern Art across both its spaces. Her knowing canvases build on the history of abstract painting and infuse it with digitally native forms and gestures. A series of “pre-vandalized” paintings carry marks that recall Jackson Pollock but also understand the political agency of this kind of mark-making today, specifically invoking actions taken by climate activists desperate to capture media attention by flinging substances at paintings in museums. In the catalogue text for the Gagosian show, Humphries reminds us that abstraction is the notion that “maybe you can augment the ‘real’ effect without the intermediary of represented ‘things.’” Her cogent statements applied onto dizzying, staticky surfaces are still flash-burned to my retinas days later.
    Installation view, “Hardcore,” Sadie Coles HQ, London, May 25 2023 – August 5 2023. Credit: © The Artist/s. Courtesy of The Artist/s and Sadie Coles HQ, London. Photo: Katie Morrison / Sadie Coles HQ, London.
    Post-Brexit, and post-lockdown, how can we renegotiate our relationships with each other? 
    Many of us have continued to feel the knock-on effects of being physically isolated for several years, and events and openings still don’t totally feel “back to normal.” Over the weekend I witnessed many an awkward dance as people tried to read from micro-expressions whether a handshake or—god forbid!—an air kiss were permitted forms of greeting. Add to that the effects of our mass retreat online and the consequent further disintegration of our shared sense of reality, and many people have come out the other side of lockdown having internalized socio-political isolation that began long before the pandemic and have been polarized on either side of the too-woke and anti-woke divide. So I was on the look-out for themes of physical intimacy, conversations about cancel culture, and any desire for nuance.
    And boy did I find them at Sadie Coles. A challenging group exhibition titled “Hardcore,” including 18 artists, explored themes of sexuality in and of itself, wholly indifferent to social rules. As Mistress Rebecca, the dominatrix who wrote the curatorial text for the show, put it: “A hardcore rejects niceties because to be hardcore is to never fall into the safe and simple parameters of right or wrong. Today this seems to be an unnecessarily rare, even brave position to take.”  
    King Cobra/ Doreen Lynette Garner, In the Feast of the Hogs (2022). ©KING COBRA (documented as Doreen Lynette Garner). Courtesy of The Artist and JTT, New York.Photo: Katie Morrison / Sadie Coles HQ, London.
    Different people moving through the show might find their challenging line at different points. For me, Monica Bonvicini’s whip of buckle-down leather belts swinging in gentle circles or Joan Semmel’s 1977 painting For Foot Fetishists felt tame, but things got closer to the bone with Darja Bajagić’s Ex Axes, reclaiming images from “women with weapons” fetish sites, and King Cobra/Doreen Lynette Garner’s butchered carcass complete with a blood-stained blonde weave. Arriving at Miriam Cahn’s 2017 fleischbild/famillienbild (Meat Portrait/ Family Portrait) would elicit a wince from even the most sexually liberated; it depicts a couple having energetic intercourse while a pint-sized, childlike figure in the foreground turns away. Cahn’s work in particular, whose recent exhibition at Palais de Tokyo ignited a firestorm of controversy in France, seems to sit right on a knife’s edge of what can be socially acceptable today.
    Miriam Cahn, fleischbild/famillienbild (2017). ©Miriam Cahn. Courtesy of The Artist and Meyer Riegger, Berlin/Karlsruhe.Photo: Katie Morrison / Sadie Coles HQ, London.
    More leather is to be found in the Lisa-Marie Harris sculptures and wall-mounted reliefs at Cooke Latham Gallery, which respond to body shaming and sexually objectifying comments the artist has gotten over the years, and comment on the policing and hyper-vigilant monitoring of the female body as a response to sexual violence enacted on women. Elsewhere, at Stephen Friedman, Sasha Gordon’s surreal self-portraits—including images of herself as living topiary and as a cat—explore the alienation of unconventional human bodies and questions of her identity as a queer Asian American woman in a show titled “The Flesh Disappears, But Continues to Ache.”
    How are artists responding to the alarming technological disruptions of our age?
    The gargantuan leaps forward in the development of A.I. have pushed the tone of the art-tech conversation to a fever pitch; technologists are sounding the alarm about the threat A.I. poses to human existence itself. But even before this recent turn in the discourse, the destabilizing effects of the internet and its flood of information and distracting noise have been giving artists ample material to work with.
    At Sadie Coles’s space on Davies Street, Lawrence Lek’s ultra-prescient “Black Cloud Highway 黑云高速公路” unseats the myth of technological progress in an age of artificial intelligence. Lek’s entrancing 11-minute film Black Cloud follows a lone surveillance A.I. in an abandoned city—SimBeijing, a replica of the Chinese capital built by a tech company to road-test self driving cars. It reports accidents until all other A.I.s are banished, leaving it alone in the metropolis. It then engages a self-help therapy program to help it cope. The aura of post-humanity fills the viewer with dread that we are on the precipice of an abyss, a feeling aided by a thumping soundtrack by Lek and Kode9.
    Maisie Cousins, Green Head (2023). Photo courtesy of T.J. Boulting.
    Continuing on this theme, Maisie Cousins is showing some work made entirely using A.I. at T.J. Boulting as part of the artist’s quest to relive lost childhood memories. Nestled among real family photos are 19 glossy prints of A.I.-generated images based on memories of lost home videos of trips to an amusement park with her late grandfather. These colorful hallucinations recall Martin Parr’s saturated images of British seaside life, if they were on acid.
    At Gazelli Art House, Jake Elwes’s exploration of A.I. and machine learning, “Zizi – Queering the Dataset,” disrupts standardized facial recognition technology by feeding it thousands of images of drag performers. And Machine Learning Porn (2016) exposes the warped understanding of human biology by an algorithm trained to remove explicit imagery by tasking it with creating pornographic visuals.
    Final thoughts
    What these standout shows have in common—the abstract paintings, the intellectual provocations, the tech experimentation—is that they are all grappling with the specific difficulties of contemporary living; the isolating and scary present, the uncertainty about the future, and the inadequacy of the systems, forms, language, rules, and social mores we have available to answer to this existential nausea.
    Many of these works have found a way to express this feeling, and also to propose a way through it. They express a desire for nuance, for queering and questioning labels and boxes, and for opening up space for other ways of thinking, being, and seeing that are undefined. Something Garrels said about abstraction at his Gagosian show might be extrapolated to all of these works: “At the end of the day, it’s the individuals there on their own terms, struggling to find meaning and coherence within this vast barrage of information.”
    Javier Calleja, Still on Time (2023). Courtesy the artist and Almine Rech.
    The hope is that art will return to us some sense of shared understanding about the nature of existence, the perseverance of the human spirit, and how we might sit through this difficult moment in history.
    And if it all feels a little overwhelming, London Art Week has you covered too. Those in need of something to take the edge off of all this heady questioning might head over to Almine Rech, where Javier Calleja’s adorable characters offer up something of a palette cleanser.
    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

    Photoville Returns to New York With More Than 80 Exhibitions—Many Displayed in the Event’s Signature Shipping Containers

    Photoville, New York’s annual open-air photography show, returns to the city for its 12th straight edition this weekend. On view through June 18, the free event offers more than 80 exhibitions across all five boroughs. On view will be work from hundreds of photographers—some up-and-comers, others award-winning artists and professionals. 
    More than 50 of the exhibitions will take place inside a series of shipping containers—the kind you see stacked like Legos on cargo ships—which will be laid out in Brooklyn Bridge Park for the first time since the 2019 edition of the event. (COVID precautions kept them from being used in the previous three years.) It feels right to have them back; the steel structures have become a symbol of the scrappy event and its aims.  
    Which is not to say that they’re perfect. Many are cramped and reverberant; some are dim and dilapidated from years of use. In other words, they look nothing like the sterile white cubes in which we’re used to seeing art photography.    
    That’s a good thing. For Photoville’s organizers, accessibility, not institutional polish, has always been the goal. They want to bring as many pictures to the public as possible, and the shipping containers—weather-ready, open 24-7—provide a simple solution.   
    “It’s about the stories,” said Laura Roumanos, one of Photoville’s three co-founders, ahead of this year’s event. “We could spend all this money on white walls and beautiful, multimillion-dollar installations or whatever. But that doesn’t matter.” 
    “It’s about the photography,” she continued. “It’s about the story. That is what’s important.” 

    Roumanos, a veteran event producer, said she had tears in her eyes when the first storage containers were laid back in 2012, for Photoville’s first edition. “It represented so much to us,” she recalled. “We fought so hard to make people realize that it was a really great place to show work.” 
    Back then, the show was modest. Roumanos and her fellow founders—Sam Barzilay and Dave Shelley—had, somewhat miraculously, been lent 80,000 square feet in Brooklyn Bridge Park for their nascent event, but the rest required work. So they launched a Kickstarter campaign and secured corporate sponsorships to raise the roughly $250,000 needed to get the festival off the ground. It opened with 20-some shows in a handful of containers.  
    But in the 12 years since then, Photoville has consistently grown: more artists, more exhibitions, more containers, more visitors. More boroughs, too: in 2020, the Brooklyn-centric show ballooned to the Bronx, Manhattan, Queens, and Staten Island. (The year before, Photoville’s organizers held an L.A. edition of the event, but the pandemic halted the expansion almost as soon as it started.) 
    A shot of the storage containers at Photoville 2018. Photo: Jessica Bal. Courtesy of Photoville.
    This month’s show represents just how far Photoville has come. Going on display is a record number of exhibitions featuring the work of a record number of artists. The budget for the event exceeds $500,000, and visitor numbers are expected to top last year’s high mark of 1 million.  
    Crucially, the organizers haven’t cut moral corners in the name of growth. Photoville pays its staffers (there are no volunteers) and gives exhibiting artists honorariums. This year, it will finance “65 to 70 percent” of shows, according to Roumanos. The rest will be covered by sponsors—a group that includes the New York Times, the Bronx Documentary Center, and Harlem’s Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, among many others. 
    Stephanie Mei-Ling, Portrait of Ronisha and her sons in embrace,, from her “Overpolicing Parents” series. Courtesy of the artist.
    Inclusivity remains a major programming priority, even if the subject matter may alienate some. Many of the projects on view this year tackle big topics: gun control, gender identity, sex work, the environmental crisis.
    A series of photographs by artist Stephanie Mei-Ling documents the impact of Child Protective Services investigations on families, while a body of work by Mackenzie Calle explores the historical exclusion of queer astronauts from the American space program. Jen White-Johnson’s “Autistic Joy” aims to give visibility to children of color in neurodiverse communities. “Guns, Love, Children, America” by Mel D. Cole depicts kids at an NRA convention wielding weapons like toys.
    “We’re not just showing beautiful sculptures or paintings,” Roumanos said. “These are conversations.”  
    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

    Can’t Get Enough Vermeer? A New Documentary Reveals the Behind-the-Scenes Drama of Planning the Rijksmuseum’s Historic Exhibition

    Since the opening of the Rijksmuseum’s Johannes Vermeer exhibition, the Amsterdam museum has been overwhelmed by visitor demand for the once-in-a-lifetime blockbuster. The institution has had to stay open late to accommodate crowds of art lovers from all over the world eager to see 28 masterpieces by the Dutch Golden Age painter—the most ever shown in one place.
    While the end result is undoubtedly a success, director Suzanne Raes’s new documentary from Kino Lorber, which premiered at New York’s Quad Cinema ahead of the final days of the exhibition, provides a fascinating behind-the-scenes glimpse of the drama that preceded the show’s historic run.
    Close to Vermeer follows Gregor Weber, the Rijksmuseum’s head of fine and decorative arts, as he embarks on his last show before retirement, curating a career-defining exhibition with Pieter Roelofs, the museum’s head of paintings and sculpture.
    The filmmakers are there every step of the way, from determining the optimal exhibition crowd control (a semicircular barrier that allows as many as 15 people to stand around each painting at one time), to traveling in person to museums across the U.S. and Europe to court important loans, to making a handful new discoveries about the artist, who remains something of a mystery despite his worldwide fame.
    A still from Close to Vermeer. Photo courtesy of Kino Lorber.
    Weber’s passion for the show’s subject is immediately apparent, as he recounts seeing his first works by the artist as a schoolboy visiting London. “The moment I saw the Vermeers, I actually fainted,” he said.
    That Weber and Roelofs were able to make this exhibition—which sold out in mere days—happen in the first place is nothing short of remarkable. The show was only possible only due to the fact that the Frick Collection in New York, which has three Vermeers, is currently renovating its Fifth Avenue mansion—normally, loans are out of the question.
    Reuniting the bulk of the artist’s oeuvre, in his native country was always going to be a moving experience. Vermeer is only known to have made 37 paintings, including The Concert, which has been missing since its 1990 theft from Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.
    But the film packs surprising emotional heft when Weber and Roelofs are forced to come to terms with the absence of key works. At various points, the two stand over a desk, arranging and rearranging postcards of all the Vermeer paintings as they might best be displayed in the show.
    A still from Close to Vermeer. Photo courtesy of Kino Lorber.
    The famed Girl With a Pearl Earring from the Mauritshuis in The Hague, for instance, would look great next to Study of a Young Woman, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. And sure, Buckingham Palace hasn’t loaned out The Music Lesson in ages, but “this exhibition is so important that I think they’ll miss something if they don’t let their baby travel to the party,” Weber said hopefully.
    But Buckingham Palace ultimately decided to stay home. And while the Met was happy to lend a pair of Vermeers, three of the institution’s paintings by the artist were unable to make the trip. Young Woman with a Water Pitcher was deemed too fragile, and the donors of Study of a Young Woman and A Maid Asleep had imposed restrictions on their bequests, prohibiting the works from ever going on loan.
    “I feel a kind of sadness,” Roelofs told Met associate curator Adam Eaker during a visit to the museum. “We know that we’ll never be able to bring paintings like this back home.”
    Johannes Vermeer, Study of a Young Woman, (ca. 1665–67). Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
    The film’s villain, however, is undoubtedly Silke Gatenbröcker, the chief curator of paintings at the Herzog Anton Ulrich-Museum in Braunschweig, Germany.
    After flipping several Vermeer postcards facedown, resigned to the fact they would not be coming to Amsterdam, Weber voices his determination to secure one more loan, of Braunschweig’s The Girl With the Wineglass. Paired with the similar The Wine Glass from the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin, and the Frick’s Girl Interrupted at Her Music, the painting is “pivotal” in showing Vermeer’s artistic development and recurring themes, Weber believes.
    “You’re going after this one,” Roelofs said. “Yeah,” Weber replied.
    Johannes Vermeer, The Girl With the Wineglass. Collection of the Herzog Anton Ulrich-Museum in Braunschweig, Germany
    Cut to the empty galleries of the Braunschweig, barely a single visitor in sight.
    “A collection like this and there’s no one here,” Weber marveled.
    Sadly, that does not mean the German museum will cooperate.
    “This coming year we’ve got the theme for the Lower Saxony state finals. All the students sitting their final art exams have to write about this Vermeer,” Gatenbröcker told him.
    Weber points out this can’t be more than 500, maybe 1,000 students. Maybe they could all take the bus to Amsterdam to see it there? (The two museums are only a four-and-a-half-hour drive apart.)
    Johannes Vermeer, The Glass of Wine (ca. 1659–61). Collection of the Staatliche Museen zu Berlin – Gemäldegalerie.
    “They will be bussed here,” the curator insisted.
    A disappointed Weber accepts that he will have to take a last yearning look at the painting (and possibly jump off the nearest bridge).
    The documentary is at its most riveting, however, when it comes to two of the paintings that did actually make the trip to Amsterdam, including Young Woman Seated at a Virginal, from the Leiden Collection.
    American billionaire Thomas Kaplan purchased the work, which is the only privately owned Vermeer, from casino owner Steve Wynn with the help of dealer Otto Naumann. (The latter has one the film’s great lines: “Rich people do a great thing. They die.… it’s like a big funnel effect. [Great artworks] all wind up in museums eventually.”)
    Johannes Vermeer, Young Woman Seated at a Virginal (ca. 1670–1672). Collection of the Leiden Collection, New York.
    “[Steve] said ‘If you want the Rembrandt self portrait, you have to buy the Vermeer at the same time,’” Kaplan, who is known for his Rembrandt holdings, said. “I thought about that. There’s a little expression: ‘You can’t threaten me with a good time.’”
    Experts have determined that Kaplan’s painting was cut from same bolt of canvas as Vermeer’s The Lacemaker, which certainly suggests that both are by the artist—although it’s possible that another artist bought the canvas. But Weber is immediately doubtful about Young Woman, especially her yellow shawl.
    “I’m not supposed to be saying this, but you get the feeling someone else came in to complete this painting,” he told Jonathan Janson, a painter and an expert on the artist who runs the website Essential Vermeer.
    Johannes Vermeer, The Lacemaker (1666–68). Collection of the Musée du Louvre, Paris.
    Janson had his own issues with the painting, namely its compositional similarity to the similarly titled Lady Seated at a Virginal, from London’s National Gallery. “Why would Vermeer have done a copy and paste?” he asked. “There’s nothing original. This is very labored. It’s not a good piece of painting.”
    Weber seemed to agreed. “Do I have to write attributed to Vermeer or studio of Vermeer?” he added. “This is really a little bit of a problem.”
    The very next shot features an ebullient Kaplan, who arrives at the Rijksmuseum conservation lab to see what they’ve found in its analysis of the work. He is delighted to learn that the woman’s shawl was indeed part of the original composition—proof, he feels, that this is really Vermeer.
    Johannes Vermeer, A Young Lady Seated at a Virginal, (c.1670). Collection of the National Gallery, London.
    Kaplan is talking, but the camera zooms in on Weber standing behind him, lingering on his obvious unease. Weber does not voice his doubts, and an on-screen caption clarifies that “the Rijksmuseum fully accepts Young Woman Seated at a Virginal as an authentic Vermeer.” It’s a very funny moment.
    Perhaps equally uncomfortable is the case of Girl With a Flute, from the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. First, there’s the back room negotiations to ensure that the museum is willing to part with its quartet of Vermeer pictures, which Betsy Wieseman, the curator and head of Northern European paintings, calls “pilgrimage paintings” that people specifically visit the museum to see.
    “Would there be a possibility of a reciprocal loan of a Vermeer at some point?” she asked. Roelofs quickly agreed that there could be.
    Johannes Vermeer, Girl With a Flute (c. 1669/1675). National Gallery of Art, Washington, Widener Collection.
    But months later, when the National Gallery team visits the Netherlands, a new wrinkle has arisen. The Americans have examined the painting, and they don’t think it’s a Vermeer at all.
    Girl With a Flute features Vermeer’s signature green earth in the flesh tones, but “look how lumpy the paint handling is. Generally, you get a sense of somebody who’s really struggling, who hasn’t quite got command of his materials,” Melanie Gifford, the gallery’s research conservator for painting technology, said. “This artist knew he should be using green earth material, but didn’t quite have the knack.”
    (Janson separately points out the neck in The Guitar Player, from the collection of the Kenwood House in London, is so green that “it looks like a lizard—but there’s no doubt that it’s a Vermeer.”)
    Johannes Vermeer, The Guitar Player (ca. 1672). Collection of Kenwood House, London.
    The tension in the meeting is palpable, the Rijksmuseum team clearly unhappy with what they are hearing.
    “We can say that Vermeer was not involved with the creation of Girl With a Flute,” Alexandra Libby, the National Gallery’s associate curator of Northern Baroque paintings, concluded. “What do you think? Do you still want the painting in your show?”
    Weber definitely does. And Roelofs causes some additional drama when he goes to the papers, proclaiming that while the National Gallery is not loaning a Vermeer, it will be one by the time it arrives: “The doubts will evaporate during the flight across the ocean.”
    The documentary makes several arguments in favor of the painting, noting its close relationship to Vermeer’s Girl With a Red Hat, also from the National Gallery. (That painting’s authorship has also since been questioned, with a new fringe theory that it is the work of his daughter, Maria Vermeer.)
    Jonathan Janson painting in a still from Close to Vermeer. Photo courtesy of Kino Lorber.
    Perhaps Girl With a Flute was an early experiment by the artist with green earth, or perhaps Vermeer had an assistant who did parts of it, or perhaps it is unfinished. (The National Gallery curators shoot all these ideas down.)
    The dueling opinions don’t exactly amount to an international incident, but Rijksmuseum curator Taco Dibbits does express his disappointment that Roelofs didn’t make their position clear to their colleagues at the National Gallery before speaking to press.
    It’s the last real drama in the film, which ends with Weber in the fully hung galleries, a voice over the loudspeaker announcing the museum’s opening for the day—and the beginning of the exhibition he’s been so busy planning.
    “Vermeer” is on view at the Rijksmuseum, Museumstraat 1, Amsterdam, February 10–June 4, 2023.
    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

    See Jaw-Dropping Portraits of Audrey Hepburn, David Bowie, and Other Icons in Fotografiska’s Starry Terry O’Neill Retrospective

    “Stars,” an exhibition of works by late British photographer Terry O’Neill, opens at New York’s Fotografiska in June with an eye on the celestial plane. Or something close enough: the 110 images, snapped between 1963 and 2013, sees O’Neill train his lens on earth’s biggest celebrities at work and at play—engaging in some cricket on break, lounging by the pool after winning an Oscar, commanding a stadium-sized audience. It’s proof finally that celebrities are, in fact, not like us.
    Born 1938 to Irish parents in Romford, Essex, O’Neill started his career in the technical photographic unit of an airline at London’s Heathrow Airport. He acquired an Agfa Silette camera to photograph people around the facilities for fun, and caught a picture of home secretary Rab Butler slumbering, “surrounded by a group of African chieftains dressed in full tribal regalia,” Fotografiska exhibition manager Phoebe Weinstein told Artnet News.
    That shot got O’Neill a job at the British tabloid Daily Sketch in 1959, where he documented Britain’s rising youth culture, befriending the Beatles and the Rolling Stones before they were big. He went on to accompany the likes of Elton John and David Bowie on tour—and married actress Faye Dunaway six years after iconically capturing the morning after her first Academy Award.
    O’Neill later switched to Leica, which he stuck with for most of his career. “The Leica was very important to me,” he once said. “It was a fabulous camera to use—quick as a flash, anywhere, any time.” With it, O’Neill immortalized boxing legend Muhammad Ali, filmmaker Spike Lee, and numerous players of James Bond through the ages. Though best known for his candid shots, his posed images do not lack for a looseness and spontaneity either.
    “Stars” marks O’Neill’s largest U.S. exhibition to date—and his first museum solo show in New York City. There, visitors can explore his work according to subject matter and theme. “There is a lot of crossover with the subjects that Terry photographed, but he was also very dedicated and close to certain subjects,” Weinstein said. “I believe the way the exhibition is organized reflects that.”
    And why now for an O’Neill retrospective? Well, Weinstein offered, excusing her pun, the stars at this moment have simply aligned.
    Preview some images from the show below.
    Audrey Hepburn plays cricket on the beach during a break from filming Stanley Donen’s film Two for the Road, 1966. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    Singer Janis Joplin singing ‘Little Girl Blue’ for the television show This is Tom Jones, December 4th, 1969. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    French actress Brigitte Bardot on the set of Les Petroleuses a.k.a. The Legend of Frenchie King, directed by Christian-Jaque in Spain, 1971. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images
    American musician Chuck Berry on stage with Keith Richards during the filming of Taylor Hackford’s documentary Hail! Hail! Rock n Roll, 1986. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    American film director Spike Lee in Tuscany, 1993. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    Musician David Bowie and actress Elizabeth Taylor meet for the first time at George Cukor’s house in Beverly Hills, 1974. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    Musician Elton John performing at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, October 1975. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    American actors Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher in costume as brother and sister Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia in George Lucas’s Star Wars trilogy, 1977. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    American actress Faye Dunaway sits by the pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel in Los Angeles, the morning after the Academy Awards ceremony, where she won a Best Actress Oscar for her part in Sidney Lumet’s Network, March 29, 1977. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    Singer Amy Winehouse poses for a portrait shoot during a concert honoring Nelson Mandela 90th birthday in Hyde Park, London, June 27, 2008. Photo: ©Terry O’Neill/Iconic Images.
    “Stars” will be on view at Fotografiska, 281 Park Ave South, New York, June 2 through September 16. 
    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

    This Artist Was Set to Show With Lisa Schiff Before a Lawsuit Shuttered the Gallery. Now, She’s Staging the Exhibition on Her Own 

    Earlier this month, art advisor Lisa Schiff abruptly closed her New York gallery space less than a week after being hit with a high-profile “Ponzi scheme” lawsuit. The move left more questions than answers. 
    That was especially true for photographer Richelle Rich, who was set to open an exhibition at Schiff’s SFA Advisory space on June 7.
    “I’m sad to say that unexpectedly the gallery has closed,” Rich wrote on Instagram at the time. “We will no doubt learn the whole story as things play out in the press, but for now I am left pretty devastated.” 
    But Rich, who considers herself a “political, conceptual artist,” was determined for the exhibition to go on. “I just didn’t want her story to define mine,” she told Artnet News over the phone. “I just wanted to move forward.” 

    Move forward she did. The artist will open her show in early June as intended, though it will look a little different—and it won’t have anything to do with Schiff. Instead, it will take place for one night only on the seventh floor of a walk-up in New York’s Lower East Side neighborhood.  
    Rich won’t show the prints she had planned for SFA, but rather a film that comprises some 200 pictures from the same body of work. The series, called “Comeflor,” features shots of flowers, fruits, and other quotidian objects that, for her, symbolize larger ideas and moments in time. 
    “Through them I document the social, political and historical events I witness,” she wrote of her subjects in an announcement for the revised show. “Deadly poisonous flowers, glass from a shipwreck, custom made needles, ephemera, and detritus make these interwoven narratives tangible. They are secrets hidden in plain sight.” 
    Richelle Rich, Comeflor (2020). Courtesy of the artist.
    Rich was introduced to Schiff through a mutual acquaintance. “Lisa was only ever really supportive of me and my work,” she said of their relationship.  
    The artist heard news of SFA’s closure from Schiff herself the morning of May 15. “It was really shocking,” she recalled, noting the five months’ worth of work she had put into preparing for the show, which was to be her first solo exhibition in American and first show of any kind in New York.
    “This was such an enormous deal for me,” she went on, adding that it was supposed to be a “comeback show.” 
    But after an hour of sulking, Rich got back to work. Within about a week’s time, she lined up a space on Eldridge Street—a studio used by a film editing company. When asked how she was able to secure it on such short notice, the artist laughed, then said, simply: “Begging.” 
    Reflecting on the last two weeks, after having a show canceled then re-confirmed, Rich took a step back and considered the experience within the context of her now 30-year-long art practice. “It was just another challenge,” she said.  
    “Here’s One I Made Earlier“ is the name of the artist’s show, which has been given a new title for the new space. It’s set to open on June 7. 
    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