What I loved most about Klaus was his old-world elegance.
William Baziotes made quiet, idiosyncratic, glowing paintings and drawings of intense formal vitality and deep historical ambition.
Dan Wolgers is in his third decade of delivering snapshots of the improbable, a kind of shock therapy, to his native Sweden.
There is a deceptive simplicity to Michelle Charles’s images of medicine bottles, honey jars, bars of soap, and other household objects.
All that I look for is right here in Beatrice Caracciolo’s work: weight, touch, light, atmosphere, scale.
At one time the paintings were all atmosphere. There was no ground, no topography upon which the eye could settle—time was fluid—and what lurked beneath the surface referred more to collective memory than the painter’s marks.