Even an astute connoisseur would be hard pressed to locate specific Nozkowskian tropes. There are some recurring motifs, but internal scale, texture, and mood present themselves in different coordinates. This is the more remarkable because Mr. Nozkowski’s modus operandi is so prescribed in terms of scale, medium, taste, and authentic touch.
The experience in this richly diverse exhibition is not of transition so much as consolidation: the new works, whether big loopy abstractions in fat confident brushstrokes or weirdo figuration, seem legitimate outgrowths of the precious, tight, miniaturist Siena of old.
Julian Hatton at Elizabeth Harris, Byron Kim at Max Protetch, Alexander Ross at Marianne Boesky and at David Nolan and Tabaimo at James Cohan
Paßstück are like toys, and the people handling them like overgrown children. West replaces violence on bodies with bodies at play, but playing is unnatural and uncomfortable for modern adults: this is an art gallery, not a sandbox, and Paßstück can be awkward, even hostile, to the human form.
Color in general, as well as the emotional and highly individual effects it has on us, is mysterious and personal, no matter how neutrally it is applied. Though the way color was derived in many of the artworks on display was either scientific or arbitrary, the works nevertheless reach the audience on an emotional level that lies beyond anyone’s control.
Regardless of the medium he works in, Johns’s busy, agile yet weirdly reticent hand presents an oxymoronic mix of attributes, being at once tentative and emphatic.
Marcel Dzama’s drawings evoke the ethos of an adult dreamscape while recalling a style of childrenís picture book.
Art historians usually feel no need to look back at the history of art history. Michael Podro took a different view. He believed that a way to understand visual art was to look critically at the history of art history. His first book The Manifold in Perception: Theories of Art from Kant to Hildebrand (1972) provides…