Art and exchange in extraterritorial territories
The international novel, mistranslation, and blogging in print.
Shining a light on Latin American cinema.
Jarett Kobek’s novel ATTA reads as a relentless laceration of the fear and disaster mythologies of globalized empire.
From his investigation of maritime space to his extensive travels to world seaports, Allan Sekula’s trajectory transforms and connects domains that aren’t usually compared. His practice has extended from photography into filmmaking and recently, curating.
The president and creative director of his own design firm and the force behind a range of interdisciplinary projects and partnerships, Bruce Mau speaks with Kathryn Simon about drift, vision, and his unique studio environment.
In Pilot for a Soap Opera about an Egyptian Air Hostess, Sherif el-Azma conjures the quiet tension of an object about to fall.
Reviewer Carlos Brillembourg finds the absurd task of representing 500 years of Brazilian history in a single exhibit further hampered by Jean Nouvel’s Guggenheim redesign and the franchising of the museum brand.
Sure, the painter Shahzia Sikander, born and raised in Pakistan, manages to flip the script on the whole history of Indian miniatures, but to position her as an artist throwing off the oppressive yoke of male patriarchy, Islamic censorship, or the pervasive Western fantasy of South Asian culture as simply some kind of prohibitive version of Footloose does a disservice to her work.
Gioconda Belli is one of Nicaragua’s major political and intellectual voices.
Ernesto Neto’s art, formal abstraction in the shape of sexy biomorphs, might seem an oxymoron. Curator Bill Arning and the Brazilian artist address the dichotomy of rigorous pleasure.
Portuguese architect Álvaro Siza blends the taut gestures of modernism with the complex, ever-shifting organic designs of nature and the city in his achievement at the Serralves Museum of Contemporary Art, which opened in Oporto in the summer of 1999.
Rose Nolan makes two things, both of which recall Constructivism: banners bearing Cyrillic initials, underscoring their art historical provenance but replacing a collective referent with a personal one; and constructions, made out of cardboard and tape, which have a distinctly Tatlinish look.