The Polish artist recently mounted a new participatory installation on Hydra Island in Greece, where Nell McClister prompted him to talk about the core of his collaborative projects: community, experimentation, and spirituality.
The primary challenge of any William Kentridge monograph might seem to be getting images on the page to represent the South African artist’s oeuvre, which spans performance by puppets and opera singers, immersive film installations, stereoscopic and anamorphic drawings, crank-activated kinetic sculptures that play music (recently on view at Marian Goodman in New York), and virtuosic charcoal-on-paper animations.
Web Extra Video Artist and animator Jennifer Levonian’s work is Irreverent and articulate, and acknowledges that places, like nephews, don’t have to be perfect to be loved.
Everywhere you look in Michael Smith’s first midcareer survey—a cacophonous carnival of videos, skits, installations, publications, and drawings—there’s “Mike:” a pasty, caterpillar-browed, small-time entrepreneur with American values and a fondness for JFK.
Nowhere in film is the power of love more apparent than in the slasher genre.
Even more extraordinary than the putative subject of Linda Hattendorf’s debut documentary, an elderly homeless artist, is the fact that Hattendorf started aiming her camera at him long before September 11, 2001.
In his drawings and video projections, Chan stakes out the space between opposites as a field of promise.
It is usual these days to look back at the invention of photography in the mid-19th century as a welcome event in technological progress that enabled an exciting new form of representation: a moment captured and represented as fact.
Artists on Artists: Nell McClister, former BOMB Magazine Senior Editor, reviews Mark Dion’s 12-year restrospective which was held in 2003 at the Aldrich Museum in Connecticut.
There are about ten words spoken in Sylvain Chomet’s first feature-length animated film, including the drawn-out, lilting sounds that the characters occasionally make, as if communicating were an act of hopefully humming almost-words while gesturing with hands and head and pointedly rolling one’s eyes.
Evoking both sympathy and alienation, filmmaker Aki Kaurismäki portrays the Finnish lowerclass through an amnesiac’s eyes in Man Without a Past.