In advance of the next installment of his extensive history of New York City, Wallace expounds on the pivotal early years of the twentieth century.
The 17th-century townhouses that Gordon Matta-Clark and his friends chipped away at in Conical Intersect (1975) did not collapse immediately—like, say, flimsy clapboard ranch styles built where neighborhood site plans had been rushed and mistaken.
In Chinatown, NYC, where Wendy White lives, new signs go up over outdated signs, new awnings are installed over old ones, graffiti is painted over, windows become walls, additions are built, architecture is modified, buildings disappear … White has become a connoisseur of these visual shifts.
Sabine Russ maps Wolfgang Staehle’s 2001 onto 2011, tracing the painful and cathartic implications of its memory.
A poignant vision of our country from the great American photographer Edward Weston is on view now at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.
Sussman’s remarkable new film, whiteonwhite:algorithmicnoir is an sci-fi narrative that constantly re-edits itself. The filmmaker talks to poet Yankelvich about outdated notions of the future, Malevich and Kazakh deserts.
Michael Schmelling made a book called Atlanta, a photo book about the Atlanta hip-hop scene. Then Richard Maxwell wrote a review of it.
Posing as a real estate photographer, Venezuelan artist Luis Molina-Pantin took photographs of gaudy buildings built with drug money.
Los Angeles is distinctive for its magic hour; that time of day when the sun is teasing the horizon.
Aunque tenemos amigos en común, Smiljan Radic y yo nunca nos hemos conocido en persona; tampoco hemos hablado por teléfono.
At the heart of Julie Mehretu’s paintings is a question about the ways in which we construct and live in the world. Perhaps that is what makes the work so radical: its willingness to unravel the conventionally given answers about the violent environment we inhabit today.
Michael Bell represents a new breed of architectural practitioner, theorist, and professor.
Tom Slaughter’s paintings have a very specific effect. Like Brazilian music, as in Jobim, or Caetano Veloso, they are instantly pleasing.
Our love arrived on a platform of the subway station at Grand Army Plaza.
Mitch Epstein’s enigmatic approach to conveying life in New York City gives one “the opportunity to ponder what photography can and cannot reveal about our public lives and our most private selves,” according to reviewer Marvin Heiferman.