Contributed by Margaret McCann / Issy Wood’s paintings in “Time Sensitive” at Michael Werner gallery render transient facets of our daily simulacrum timeless. As though passed through a vintage filter, they seem to recall a. Claude glass, an 18th c pocket-sized, toned mirror that could turn any scrappy piece of wilderness into “a vision of painterly charm: framed and set apart from the rest of the landscape, color palette simplified, bathed in gentle, hazy light.” Aided by a new picturesque aesthetic that combined “the sweetness of the beautiful, cut with some of the sublime’s majestic terror,” ramblers who couldn’t afford the Grand Tour found beauty in local scenery with this handy device. Today one need not even venture outdoors to see anything new. Overstimulation awaits on a quick screen scroll, shifting from monuments to corrective braces to kittens to a Ukrainian battlefield in seconds. Woods slows this high-low flow, turning incongruous images fished from the cyber-stream into often amusing visual meditations with surprising emotional depth.
Contributed by Leslie Roberts / Gabriele Evertz’s new paintings are a song cycle in color. Some of her previous shows had singular emotional states as themes; “Rapture” and “Exaltation” are two. But in her new solo “Path” at Minus Space, six large square canvases extend the concept, forming a chromatic narrative – an emotional journey through the pandemic to the present. They start in despair and isolation, move through night with glints of hope, break sharply, and conclude, not with sadness but with strength in a belief in the urgency of color in life. Evertz, whom some might call quintessentially modernist, sees her new work as neo-Romantic.
Contributed by Michael Brennan / The seven large paintings in Kim Uchiyama’s solo show “Heat and Shadow” at The Lobby Gallery were inspired by Greek temples located in Sicily. They are rigorous, modernist, and abstract. But what might ancient sacred spaces have to offer anyone in midtown Manhattan in 2022?
Contributed by Sharon Butler / Today marks the first day of the Two Coats of Paint Annual Year-end fundraising campaign. In 2023, with your generous support, we will continue to keep our vibrant and expansive conversation about painting going.
Contributed by Sharon Butler / First things first. If we don’t all get out and vote on November 8, and Lee Zeldin beats Kathy Hochul in what is now a close governor’s race, sensible gun laws and abortion rights would be at risk. Once you’ve minimized that risk, even if you yourself have a couple of exhibitions coming up, resist the solipsistic urge to hole up in the studio. Get out and see some shows. In Bushwick, Astrid Dick and Erika Ranee are in a two-person show at M. David & Co. that looks well worth a trip on the L train. Delphine Hennelly has a solo opening at nearby Carvahlo Park on November 12. In Tribeca, at Canada, look for Xylor Jane’s exploration of prime palindromes — numbers that read the same forward…
Contributed by Kylie Heidenheimer / I spoke to John Molloy recently about the unusual programming at his eponymous Upper East Side gallery, where his exhibitions often include work by contemporary artists from the New York area alongside antique Native American art, and how studying with Marshall McLuhan at Fordham still influences his perspective. Currently, the gallery is hosting a vibrant three-person show with work by Stephen Maine, Melissa Staiger, and Naomi Cohn called “TECHNIC/ Color.”
Contributed by Jason Andrew / That a work of art can mean something from generation to generation, that it can continue to reflect not only the time in which it was made but also make us think years later, is what makes it a masterwork. Seldom in the realm of dance, the most ephemeral of art forms, is a work appreciated across disciplines, its worth acknowledged by a broader audience than originally targeted. We are lucky that at any time we can wander into a museum and stand face-to-face with a masterpiece by Picasso, Matisse, or O’Keeffe. We can’t do this with dance. Perhaps as virtual technology continues to expand, we will be able to experience the great dances of our time as if breathing the same air of the performers. Until then, we must wait. It’s been sixteen years since I last saw In the Upper Room by Twyla Tharp.
Contributed by Sharon Butler / This month, don’t forget to look up and admire the trees, which are having the last gasp of color that I’ve always thought is impossible to paint (or photograph) without seeming hopelessly sentimental. Meanwhile, in the galleries, check out “Big Little Color,” an elegant abstraction show at Carrie Haddad featuring geometry, pattern, and sophisticated color. Ashley Garrett, Charlie Goering, and Evan Halter are in “knowing when,” a group show at Turley Gallery that celebrates knowing when to ignore the internal voices and listen, and knowing when to stop. At LABspace Susan Carr is back for another outstanding solo with new work that continues her exploration of, and search for, happiness. And finally, don’t miss “The Material, The Thing,” a big survey of talented Hudson Valley artists at the Dorsky Museum. It’s only on view through November 6.
Contributed by Bonnie Morano / Years ago, when I first learned about the “pink tax” – the price mark-up on razors, deodorant, shampoo and other products marketed to women – I was outraged. A recent trip to the art supply store had me cursing the $96 price tag for Cad Yellow Deep (it is like a tube of sunshine, though) I wondered whether I was being charged an art tax. Oil paint, of course, is unique, but what about other art necessities? Do art supply stores charge more for materials that can be found elsewhere at lower prices? If so, would it be feasible to curb such price discrimination? After all, California just passed a law banning the pink tax.
Contributed by Sharon Butler / Conceptual artist Julie Wolfe’s show, “Opposing Forces,” at HEMPHILL in Washington, DC, is rooted in her practice of gathering images and data to explore the world around us and, just as importantly, our interior lives. Her intent is to guide the viewer through richly conceived systems of color, form, and language that often serve as markers of time.