Nick Stillman

In the New York of a decade ago, the square inches of blue eye shadow, lip-disappearing moustaches, and ludicrously suggestive grapefruits dotting the pages of Soul Jazz Record Publishing’s history of disco record covers were still easily plucked from dollar bins and discarded curbside stacks.

Nick Stillman points to Christopher Saucedo’s September 11, 2001 (Please Stop Saying 9/11) as an example of artistic retrospective through portraiture and branding.

Clifford Owens spent the summer performing scores written by fellow artists at his PS1 studio. With Nick Stillman he looks back at the history of black performance art and forward to his MoMA exhibition Anthology.

A more brutal pop-art sensibility was taken up by the artists who designed the decals sold by the Topps Company’s Wacky Packs in the late ’60s.

Originally published posthumously and recently reprinted by Melville House, The Drinker is Hans Fallada’s brutal account of provincial German shopkeeper Erwin Sommer’s loss of a business client, refusal to admit this to his wife, lightning-fast descent into sordid alcoholism, and incarceration in prison and an insane asylum.

Posing as a real estate photographer, Venezuelan artist Luis Molina-Pantin took photographs of gaudy buildings built with drug money.

“I’m fascinated by the idea of a film as an exhibition, and the exhibition as a film,” the director Peter Greenaway said in this 1997 BOMB interview.

Pretty arresting stuff from Guatemalan performance artist Regina José Galindo at the opening of her terrific retrospective Friday night at Exit Art.

Scott’s provocative work challenges pedestrians in Philadelphia’s bustling Logan Square to consider the fate of local high schoolers will be on view through November.

Ten years ago, during my first ever trip to Long Island, I was arrested in Montauk for federal trespassing.
In this week’s Video Art feature, artist Ei Arakawa teamed up with BOMB managing editor Nick Stillman.

Nick Stillman laments the lack of humor in Richard Prince’s latest gallery show, citing quotes from past BOMB interviews with Barbara Kruger and Marvin Heiferman.

Like the Velvet Underground, the Beach Boys, or the Stooges, The Fall is one of those pop bands that inspires breathless devotion and oceans of superlatives.

The handsome, CD-size book of lyrics accompanying Aesop Rock’s new EP Fast Cars, Danger, Fire, and Knives is titled The Living Human Curiosity Sideshow, an apt caption for a rapper whose 1999 debut album Float became an underground classic so instantly that by his next album he would rap, “Dwarfed by the lights, bewildered by the fan base, bound by an idea but skeptical of the handshakes.”