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There is a lacerating wit in the work of Grant Levy-Lucero, a solemn shrewdness dressed in Bermuda shorts. He is playful but he is not playing around. His exhibition of crude ceramics at Night Gallery borders one wall of an otherwise barren chamber. Displayed upon a...
Just inside the entrance and visible through the plate glass window that leads in from the hallway, a bloated lozenge floats, supported from below, in an oddly visceral pink bulb. From one corner, a white tassel hangs. Conjuring both entrails and a soiled gown, the...
During his year-long residency at the American Academy in Rome, Michael Queenland roamed the streets. Rome is a beautiful city to walk in, filled with ruins and monuments, but like any modern city, it is also cluttered with trash. The detritus—what was thrown...
In the late 1940s, Abstract Expressionism developed as an aesthetically pure style, stripped of the political content of 1930s Depression-era art, memorably dismissed by Arshile Gorky as “Poor art for poor people.” That attitude persisted until a counter-reaction set...
The opening movement of “Soul Recordings” is a polka-dot revelry, a bedazzled wake-up call, a cymbal-clap altarpiece, a plastic-bead trumpet blast, and a monster of a skull-ringed, glitter-bombed orchestral chord breaking in fuchsia major. This is Ebony G. Patterson’s...