#exhibition review

[panfritoo]

Exhibition Review: Women in Revolt! Art and Activism in the UK 1970-1990

Anything feminist puts me instantly on guard. Feminism sells. Sure. But can't female artists be recognised for anything other than having a vagina? Female artists in Britain did not occupy the spaces of museums and galleries, their work has been safeguarded under individual mattresses and home archives. So I approached Tate Britain's exhibition with a certain scepticism, wondering if the show would be a tokenistic gesture of promoting ‘inclusivity’.

From the get-go, there is one thing obvious. There are no Guerrilla Girls. There are no Mona Lisas. Each piece, interdependent, brings dimension to all the contradictions and experiences of women at a time of significant sociopolitical change. As a result, the exhibition is messy and fatiguing; it almost tries too much at once. However, this is no sign of failure, there is a feminist, non-capitalist politics which informs the curation of the exhibition. Women in Revolt! Art and Activism in the UK 1970-1990 showcases the works of over 100 female artists who used their work to campaign for women’s rights and whose contribution to British culture has been incredibly uncredited. 

Arranged chronologically, the exhibition begins with photographs taken by then-20-year-old Chandon Fraser of the First Women’s Liberation Conference that took place in Oxford. Unlike images of any male gathering, these images are intimate, women are smiling and some carrying their infants with them. These women are wives, mothers, activists and artists all carrying the burden of being a woman in each role. Maureen Scott's painting Mother and Child at Breaking Point supplies an honest reflection on being a devoted mother and at the same time, losing the sense of ‘I’. Or, Susan Hiller's "10 Months," where she documents her growing pregnant belly through photographs, along with text from her journal where she writes about being a woman artist. At the time, being a female artist and a mother were considered incompatible. These works demonstrate that while society accepts that there are good, bad, and they-went-to-buy-milk-they-said fathers, mothers are held to different standards. 

The works are witty and thought provoking, for instance, Monica SJOOS referencing phallic culture with a painting of a big penis overcasting a city or Rose Finn-Kelcey's 'The Divided Self' a self-portrait of her sitting on a bench at Hyde Park, bookended, appearing on opposite sides of the bench in conversation with her 'other' self. The photograph examines the dichotomy between the person we are in private and the person we are in public. 

The exhibition also recognises the influence of subcultures in their role of pushing the boundaries behind the theatrics of womanhood. In the 1980s, against London's depressive political backdrop, a bunch of working-class teenagers were determined to build their own swinging London and escape into an electric new counterculture. These kids would gather around cubs like Blitz's which made the ultimate test bed for new romantics, punks, fashion and lesbian squatters. The photographs by Jill Posner of lesbian couples inhabiting new places were a way to challenge traditional female beauty canons aimed at male arousal and defy sexual orientation attitudes. While others such as Jill Westwood’s photographs of her wearing a latex outfit or Liz Rideal’s self-portraits of her face in a photo booth as she reaches orgasm would use hyper-sexualisation as a means of declaring control over their bodies and acknowledging their sexual self. 

It becomes evident that women produced work on the fringes of the art industry, creating their magazines, putting shows at alternative venues and sustaining their work through collaboration. The postal art project supported by Monica Ross and Su Richardson is an example of the networks women built to disseminate their work. These works included in the exhibition are small-scale pieces of artwork using DIY techniques that women would produce on kitchen counters with random items found in the house. These collectibles were mailed between women creating documentation of their experiences. Forms of low-status art became a significant medium of feminist art, which is a direct reflection of women's precarious material conditions at the time. 

The exhibition does not focus on a universal experience of women, each room has the function to provide a new layer to the narrative of feminism activism in Britain. Marlene Smiths' “My mother opens the door at 7 am. She is not bulletproof” a portrait of Dorothy Cherry Grace who was shot at her home in Brixton documents the BLK Art Group's contribution to feminist activism and racism in Britain.  

Turning our view back to the present, what does it all mean? Perhaps this is the most important. One cannot stop themselves from making connections between women’s rights then and now. Abortion is being criminalised in my countries disowning women from their bodies, women are still inflicted between becoming a mother and pursuing their careers, walking alone at night is still dangerous, and social media algorithms have taken a role in exposing young minds to figures such as Andrew Tate and their “toxic masculinity” content. But at the same time, I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else in time but now.  

I’ve confessed to myself that I am not a feminist of my time, as a young woman I’ve become weary of the term. Women In Revolt has put into question why I refuse to recognise this history of my gender when it means everything I take for granted now. Despite my initial judgements, this exhibition is a revelation. 

[wroteonedad]

Body Poetics Review

Writing about art is difficult. Especially when you live in a town that doesn't have much art, you work full time and you also can't drive. It makes me feel as though I am restricted to the amount of inspiration around me I can find, unfortunately Bournemouth pier just really isn't doing it for me anymore. I love to be on the move, I love to see new places, but I feel as though I am never going to find the place that I want to be settled into forever. Or the place I want to go to is going to be too expensive and that I may as well just flush that dream down the toilet. And did I mention that the cost of living crisis is also making it even harder to be able to go out and explore anymore, that is on the odd occasion that the trains are even running at the moment.

It feels as though I wait for the one gallery to open up their new exhibition before I wander in and end up reviewing every show that they do, except for Martin Parr. I really don't think there was much to say about his work other than it's pretty and they're of beaches. This show, also presented by the wonderful Giant gallery, is called Body Poetics. I was reluctant to go to this show at first, and you want to know the real reason why I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it? It was because I hated the main piece that is advertised on all of the posters of the show, at first glance it essentially just looks like a furry wearing a winter outfit, I hate it. I'm not judging people who say it's their thing, but it really just isn't for me. I decided to give the show a chance anyway, though I had no idea what I was going to ultimately end up saying about it.

The show has been curated by a group of 9 different female artists from across the world. Most of the deeper meaning behind these works is feminist theory from the 70s and 80s and all of these works available to feast your eyes on are made from the 70s and onwards. The works also feature many contemporary values to what it means to be a feminist.

Upon general entry into the gallery, one of the first things I saw was Carolee Schneemann's Eye Body works. It features the idea of the social construction of the female / femme or queer body. The selection of works on the wall all featured different positionings of the body surrounded by materials; all of which discussed pain, suffering, political protest as well as joy and sexual expression. I for one was a huge fan of the collection of images on the wall, there are 4 different images. This one in particular is my favourite because it reminds me of a still you would see from a horror movie in the 60s. The way in which to see an image like this in the 60s would be terrifying, enough to make the film only available for an adult audience. I think it's visually fantastic and perhaps one of the stronger pieces from the show in my eyes, this is purely based around the fact there is little to no photography featured in the show and although I love art from every medium, I still feel as though I am drawn to photography the most.

This piece is Rite of Spring by Florence Peake. Her collection of works also feature the same themes as Schneemann when it comes to female / femme and queer attitudes of representation. I loved this piece from all of the colours it contained as well as the texture of it. I am obsessed with textures that have been edited as the piece has been curated overtime and think it really adds an extra depth of field to it. However, and this is not down to the artist, but rather the gallery. When I posted an image of this on my Instagram story a few days ago, I actually managed to tag the wrong artist in the post. This is due to the signs of the works being very unclear in the work. The list talks about two artists body of works, one being hers, but the sign simply named the work and wrote (opposite) on it while also displaying another list of works near the piece itself. It made the show very difficult to navigate and I apologise to Peake for giving another artist credit for the work.

The work above is Untitled (Hands Waving) by Kiki Smith. I feel like this work stuck out to me in the gallery space because it feels very simple in comparison to a lot of the complex works I saw in there; and sometimes it makes me feel bad because I don't look at everything in the space and immediately know what the deeper meaning behind the work is. This is a piece that I feel like I could stand there and look at for quite some time, it stuck out on the back wall full of eccentric colours and deep meanings, but this piece made me just want to wave back at her. I want to feel what she feels here. I love the focus on the hands, I think people can forget how expressive hands can be. How important they are, I don't want to sound fake deep and be like we take them for granted, but I do feel as though we forget how much we actually can do with them.

I think that Kiki Smith's work was some of my favourite pieces on show in the gallery. The other piece is a ceiling to floor length tapestry with star constellations and crescent moons titled Visitor (Stars, multiple crescent moons). In a way, I feel as though both pieces of work she displayed in the gallery really interlink with each other in opposing ways. The pieces all feel simple, with their matching colour schemes and dainty details all visible to the eye from afar. This piece in particular feels very feminine, the glitter, the stars in general, and like I said before the dainty details. It adds a whole new level of feminism to a piece of work without being an in your face piece of 'this is feminism'

TW: the pieces I hated the most in the gallery.

I was complaining on my story when I saw the show that I was so upset that they chose to use this model as the poster image for the show because every piece of work I saw in the gallery was so much better than this. Perhaps it's harsh to say this, but I feel as though this set of work felt like a whole waste of space, but I just hate it. I really hate it. The work is by Ad Minoliti who is all about the use of abstract forms of art to explore social aspects of the body and gendered experience. I see it I really do, I just hate that they chose to display a full blown furry. Perhaps that was the point, for it to hold a discussion, to use something so bold on the poster to advertise the show that it made people feel something. Enough to come to the show to see what it looked like up close. Maybe I'm being closed minded when I look at this, but I will simply just be walking straight past it next time I come to the show. On the other hand, some of the canvas works submitted by the artists were bright, bold and super eye catching. These were works I enjoyed to look at a lot more.

This piece was the one I enjoyed the most by the artist. This is Queer Modulor and it slayed.

I gotta say though, this is the bad boy that stole the entire show for me. This sculpture slowly rotates in circles and is literally full of surprises. Not only do we get the sculpture, but there's also a fun accompanying drawing of it in the gallery (I'm really sorry I don't want to post every detail of this show, but I urge everyone to go to this). This piece is by Rae-Yen Song and is called happy little leaf.

Next up is Guerilla Girls with Birth of Feminism. The group are very well known for their loud and outspoken media to discuss issues with being a woman and so it only made sense for them to be apart of the show. The poster adds an extra level of overall comedy to the end project.

Holly Steveson

Overall, I think the show is really fun. There's a bunch of outstanding forms of media and installation works and it's so nice to see a big artist collaboration in the space, a space that works really well for the works they are exhibiting. The only thing is I feel there is not much discussion to have with all of the works, rather they are good pieces by good artists and that is all that is left to say on the matter.

Body Poetics is on at Giant Gallery until 8 May 2023.

[calvinpo]

An exhibition/pavilion review:

Ringing Hollow: A Review of Black Chapel, the 2022 Serpentine Pavilion

Calvin Po

It’s perhaps an unfortunate coincidence that on my way to this year’s Serpentine Pavilion, Black Chapel, designed by Chicago-based artist Theaster Gates, I had a rather more spiritual experience when I passed by a group of street preachers on the square next to Speaker's Corner. With their Union Jack bunting draped all around their assembly, placards with JESUS IS LORD, large banners of the English flag adorned a patriotic lion and names of the all the London boroughs proudly proclaiming LONDON SHALL BE SAVED. Puncturing through even my atheistic, bemused scepticism, the blaring music and odd bursts of song had a patriotic, messianic energy that was electric. By the time I got to the Chapel I came to see, it had simply been upstaged.

Pavilions have often mattered more for the reason they are built, than the actual functions they house. From completing the composition of a Picturesque landscape, to Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona Pavilion itself becoming a manifesto, the purpose of pavilions often exists beyond the building itself. In the case of the Serpentine Pavilion, it is more about the annual cycle of patronage by the London cultural elite as they pat the “emerging architect” of the year on the back. So I was intrigued when Gates claimed a loftier, more sacred ambition of creating a ‘Chapel’, a “sanctuary for reflection, refuge and conviviality”, for “contemplation and convening”, on top of the usual purpose as a place to sit and buy an expensive coffee.

The pavilion’s imposing 10.7m high cylindrical form, clad in all-black timber has an immediate presence as I approach. Gates claims the form references inspirations as eclectic as “Musgum mud huts of Cameroon, the Kasubi Tombs of Kampala, Uganda [...] the sacred forms of Hungarian round churches and the ring shouts, voodoo circles and roda de capoeira witnessed in the sacred practices of the African diaspora.” Perhaps the subtlety of these references is lost on me, but the Pavilion mostly evokes an industrial structure, like a water tank or gasometer, especially with its external ridges of timber battens  and internal ribs of timber and metal composite trusses. Yet despite the grand gesture of an open oculus in the roof, letting light into the inky, voluminous interior, it fails to move me in that transcendental way that even a modest place of worship can. 

Is it perhaps the quality of the execution? Serpentine Pavilions are often put together on hasty timescales, with six months from conception to completion. Little details give this away: boards of the decking and cladding not quite lining up, the black-stained timber a bargain basement imitation of yakisugi (Japanese technique of timber charring). Perhaps this can be forgiven of a non-permanent structure: in a nod to sustainability credentials, this year the designers have taken care to ensure the structure is demountable, down to the reusable, precast concrete foundations. But seeing that the Pavilions are almost always auctioned off to recoup the costs and relocated to the grounds of private collectors and galleries, this seems more a convenient commercial expediency, than an environmental one. Perhaps it is difficult to be spiritually moved by a structure that is sold and delivered like a commodity, with little rootedness in its physical and congregational geographies. 

Or could it be the atmosphere, a lack of drama? One of Gate’s flourishes, such as his seven silvery ‘Tar Paintings’ that are suspended in the inside walls of the space like abstract icons, are a nod to his father’s trade as a roofer, and Rothko’s chapel in Houston. Yet these self-referential gestures seem lost on the throngs of sun-seeking Londoners taking brief shelter from the heat and wilted grass, with hardly anyone giving them a second glance. Most seemed more interested in the shade than symbolism. For a project that also emphasises “the sonic and the silent”, the acoustic atmosphere of the space I found wanting, perhaps because of the sound that leaks out of the two full-height openings that puncture straight through the volume: its acoustic experience had neither the reverberant, sanctified silence once expects from a chapel, nor the sonic presence that the street preachers managed to carve out of a busy corner of a London with just their vocal chords. Instead, all I heard was the low chatter of visitors going about their own business. The Pavilion is being programmed with “sonic interventions” (read: music performances), and the jury is out on whether or not the Pavilion can serve as a suitable venue for sounds with a more explicit, ceremonial intentionality.

But perhaps the coup de grâce was the decision to relocate a bell from St Laurence, a now-demolished Catholic Church from Chicago’s South Side. Sited next to the entrance, it is to be “used to call, signal and announce performances and activations at the Pavilion throughout the summer.” Gates explains this decision as a way to highlight the “erasure of spaces of convening and spiritual communion in urban communities.” But now mounted on a minimal, rusty steel frame like an objet d’art, I can’t help but feel a cruel irony that a consecrated object that once used to convene a lost community is now used as a performative affectation for the amusement of London’s arts and cultural gentry. This perhaps exemplifies a deeper ethical issue at the heart of the Pavilion’s concept: narratives of collective worship, cherry-picked from across communities and cultures, are sanitised, secularised and aestheticised in a contemporary art wrapper for the tastes of the largely godless culture crowd. The curator’s spiels of a creating “hallowed chamber”, if anything ring hollow.

As I leave Hyde Park, I pass by again the assembly of street preachers, who have now moved on to delivering a sermon. Gates said of his Pavilion, “it is intended to be humble.” Yet I can’t help but but feel how much more these preachers have achieved, with so much less.

[louart1]

Rising Star Amy Bravo Sold Out Her New Solo Show. What’s Behind Her ‘Grandma’s House’ Art Installation? https://news.artnet.com/art-world/amy-bravo-swivel-gallery-2541243

[linnealong]

Gallery Visit - AGNSW

‘‘TEN THOUSAND SUN’’

Cultural multiplicities

First Nations understandings

Celebrates carnival

Rallying against oppression and dehumanisation

This is one of my favorite work among this whole exhibition!

Combination of video and installation

Expanded field

History & heritage

Body

Tangled past

Colonial, aboriginal history

[antonia-gergely]

EVA EXHIBITION REVIEW !!!

soft 5/10

Let me preface by mentioning that we went on a Tuesday. That brought the score down a lot. About five venues were open (One of them contained a single poster). But I'm going to focus mainly on the Limerick City Gallery of Art.

It was a slight disappointment, frankly. There was amazing art on display within, some really striking stuff, and kudos to each artist whose work was chosen for display, but it seemed like it was set up a day before opening, and didn't exactly strike me as an international-level event.

Photos were tacked up like posters in a teenage bedroom. Shadows seeped out from underneath, distracting any viewer from the immersive experience that could have been achieved. It's Lala Meredith-Vula's Haystacks series that I'm mainly referring to. I was enamoured by the work, it reminded me of the haystacks I would see driving through the Romanian countryside on my holidays, it had enough imagery to allow a viewer to add narrative, and question the events within. And yet, all I could see were the jarring buckled shadows underneath the asymmetrically displayed images.

Seóidín O'Sullivan's ongoing research project, Crex crex, crex crex, crex..., really bewildered me and a few others I was with. Beautiful old coins embossed with the corncrake showed her inspiration on a wall whereby a viewer would have their back to the large main piece, rendering everything quite disjointed and unconnected, and harder to picture interacting. Her research images seemed haphazardly tacked onto MDF board screwed into the walls. I left quite confused and underwhelmed by the unfinished nature of the display.

Her beautiful textile work, illustrated with deep blue corncrake postage stamps, draped over a hay-bale whose scent would transport any viewer out to the Irish springtime countryside, was labelled and described, but across the room. I went over to the work and examined it, only to have to pace back and see what it was actually called. This was a repeated issue. The gallery had its artwork labels in weird places that weren't conducive to someone's movement through the space. I would walk in to a room, have to turn back, read a label around the corner, look back at the art, and figure out if I was reading the right thing. It gets really annoying when all you want to do is understand an artist's idea and concept and be submerged in the work. It felt as though the technicians didn't know much about gallery operations at all.

Orla Barry's video installation was in the middle of the first main atrium of the gallery. I don't know anyone who would actively enjoy standing in everyone's way with a pair of headphones, staring at words scrolling across a screen. I tried to watch the video, but couldn't focus for the discomfort of standing in the middle of a gallery pathway.

Rosalind Fowler's video was more intimately set up, more comfortable to sit and watch in private, but the sound was neglected. A tiny speaker accompanied the projector showing the work. It was almost like the piece was afraid to intrude on the gallery environment and adjoining café. This could have been intentional, but I didn't find it very effective. One of my favourite things at the Venice Biennale was the booming, unapologetic noise that you would here from whatever room awaited you, and the excitement of discovering where it was coming from. Not the case here. In fact, I almost missed the video completely. I was just curious enough to look around the inconspicuous curtain and find a quiet video rolling therein.

Unfortunately, I did not have time to go out to UL, where the work might have had a more thought-out display, but for such a small biennial, I don't understand why the work would be spread out around the town. It's not the Venice Biennale and I think it's wrong for it to try to be, at least physically. It felt like each individual venue provided nothing much at all, other than Rachel Fallon and Alice Maher's monumental tapestry (whose display I quite enjoyed), whereas having the works in fewer, larger spaces would have had a much more immersive, lasting impact.

It's just such a shame because I know it could have been wonderful. The art itself was fantastic - again, from what I could see of the few open venues - but the execution of the exhibitions was less than impressive, and brought my experience down significantly.

[bigfoto593]

👽🤡☠️💀

[biglisbonnews]

Kate Biel's 'Barbella' Is the Femme-Powerment Handshake NYC and LA Need New Yorkers have always appreciated a double take; to be appraised by onlookers on a morning commute is one of the highest silent compliments a person here can ask for. We’ve all felt the endorphins of turning a head and knowing that today we successfully walked the line between unquestionable gorgeousness and astonishing strangeness. When admiring others pushing the boundaries between the beautiful and the ugly, we’ve all vowed to be less conventional ourselves and step further outside the box that mainstream culture confines us inside. For the people-watchers of New York, a new exhibition of beautifully confounding women is up on display, brought to you through the lens of rising Los Angelean photographer Kate Biel.Barbella, Biel’s first solo exhibition, is a compilation of her musings on female bodybuilders over the last four years, which first caught her interest during a period of creative drought. In 2019, a friend of Biel’s mentioned her mom was a bodybuilder, and, after bridging the distance between Arizona and LA to shoot together, Biel's relationship with the female bodybuilding community was forged. At a time when Biel was struggling with the destructive effects of heartbreak, photographing these formidable women became a vital source of inspiration and empowerment for her. Rather than shrinking away from taking up space, as many women are compelled to do, her subjects reveled in the presumption of being “worshipped.” Biel notes: “Not a single one of them appeared to lack confidence... I see them as a physical encapsulation of self love.”Inside the exhibit, the minimalist, coolly lit curation allows the images to speak for themselves. The collection of photographs shows bodybuilders poised against the familiar but unnerving backdrop of classic American suburbia. Their painted faces feign taunting or triumphant expressions, depending on how you see them, pushing forward the idea of mythologized strength in a real setting.“The suburban environments make it feel more normalized,” Biel tells PAPER. “If I photographed these subjects in the wilderness it would suggest they belong on the outskirts. Carl Jung described how the symbolism of homes in our dreams serves as insight to what we are feeling subconsciously; they can be a source of both comfort and anxiety.” Biel explains that the makeup for the shoot was inspired by war paint and masks worn by luchadores for their wrestling matches in Mexico. “This is male pageantry, a means of intimidation, to give their opponent the idea that they could channel otherworldly powers,” she says. “I chose the aesthetic to encourage the subject to access this power in front of the camera.”This reconfiguration of standards, self-image and power structures is a challenge Biel has resolved to accelerate through her work in the media: "Just as we’ve been taught to look to the media for answers, we also look to it for approval. I think the media that exists has to be dismantled and rebuilt to have less influence on our self worth.”It’s true that feminine beauty standards have always been in flux, and the male-dominated media, which dictates the ways in which female bodies are deemed acceptable and beautiful, plays a huge role in this. Nestled atop this complex history, Biel’s mission as an artist is to present to viewers the infinite possibilities of feminine range and to demonstrate their power of attraction.“I’ve always sought after some kind of 'ugliness' in my work. When I say ugliness I don’t mean unattractive or revolting but instead mean the opposite of beauty,” Biel says. “I aim to explore the common ground shared among women and monsters and the humanity found in between. They are outcasts and alienated in their otherness, the way their bodies transgress and fluctuate is equivalent to body horror, and ultimately they are threats to power. Their very existence is an explosive disregard of the standards for harmony and order.”Biel notes that some men have approached her asking if the women in the series are transgender or in drag. “It doesn’t really matter whether they are or aren’t,” she says, “but the fact that the strength of their bodies require investigation on their sex frankly feels harmful and all the more necessary to normalize.”If you’ve ever wondered about the incredible possibilities of feminine beauty, Biel invites you to tickle your mind with this new context, delivered with love from the female gaze.Barbella will be exhibiting at Blade Studios in New York City until March 26.Photos courtesy of Kate Biel https://www.papermag.com/kate-biel-barbella-2659498436.html

[artbookie]

CLAMP Exhibition Official Art Book COLOR KURO

Watch the video below for the flipthrough review. If you like the artbook, please support the artist by buying a copy ^_^

[incorrect-riordanverse]

leo “perchance” valdez and frank “you can’t just say perchance” zhang have a very underrated dynamic in my humble opinion

[mimicofmodes]

I dropped in on the de Young's fashion exhibition a few weeks ago, and finally wrote up my thoughts. Tl;dr: mixed feelings.

[bmpmp3]

sorry to be a bit of a hater but i do wish youtubers weren't so scared of making their videos just like, "reviews", whys everything gotta be a "video essay" all the time. every day my recommendations are filled with 40 minute videos titled "_____: An Underrated Masterpiece" where the first like five minutes are reading the wikipedia definition of "masterpiece" in a somber voice with dramatic themed text on screen. please just tell me how good or bad you think something is and use the rest of the runtime to explain why. you dont need to put on all these airs

[crimson-kas]

A review of the Southern Photography exhibit at the Figge Art Museum.

[linnealong]

Gallery visit

(The work cannot be recorded, but it can be taken as non-commercial used photos)

I went to AGNSW to see part of the Biennale of Sydney exhibition and I accidentally found Len Lye's work, but I found that it was not as good as the effect I saw on Youtube.

I think this is the influence of the exhibition medium, which made me decide that I will not put the work too small but to show a more macro world.

But the sound design is absolutely beautiful…

[just-bro-ws-in-g]

robert motherwell - pure painting

so back in december last year, while visiting my friend in vienna, austria (obviously), i noticed a poster for the robert motherwell exhibition “pure painting” from a moving tram, managed to make out where it took place, and went the next day. i was welcomed by a building that i mistook for a bank (though later i found out that the gallery actually is sponsored by a bank, go figure), but then when we went inside, i was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere. the spaciousness of the gallery allowed one to view such large canvases from a far enough distance and added perspective to the exhibition.

its a good job i saw the poster though, the post-war painter hadn’t had a major exhibition since 1977 and now i had the opportunity to see the art of a defining character in the history of abstract expressionism. the last image in my post is archetypal for motherwell, whose work is easily recognizable by the large black blotches, lines, shapes and spots, key elements of gestural painting that motherwell used to mold and help define the format back in the 40s. living in new york, he was part of the group around peggy guggenheim that formed the authentically american art-style, of course influenced by european surrealists <3

im kidding, i love me some action painting

if i had to use one word to describe the exhibition, it’d be ‘impressive’. i was genuinely surprised by the monumentality and power that the works radiated. like i mentioned, the space of the gallery was huge, which only helped enhance the impact of the large pieces. i learned that in the case of some of the paintings, motherwell would actually go back and add more black paint after they’ve been exhibited, adding meaning, narrative and dynamicity to his work

the spanish civil war is one of the main motifs repeated in the work and it is most present in his series ‘an elegy to the spanish republic’, which contains some of his most iconic paintings, those big canvases slathered with muted colors contrasting with large black areas of geometric and abstract shapes combined in a (then) unique way that makes the atmosphere of the work and gives it the ability to evoke feeling