Tag: Harold Rosenberg

Conversation

Susanna Tanger: 50 years around Mulberry Street

Contributed by Natasha Sweeten / A few winters ago, in a small town upstate, I met my neighbor, the artist Susanna Tanger. She’d invited me for tea, and as we got to know each other I felt grateful to have a kindred spirit nearby. Her paintings seemed to grow from concentrated, layered planes of light, the soft colors humming and communing with river vistas framed by her studio windows. Our neighborship was brief. Susanna returned full-time to her Soho loft, where she’s lived and worked since 1975. But her short biography seemed compelling: she’d arrived in NYC in her early twenties to a burgeoning art community, maintained a studio practice, and raised two children as a single parent. I had the urge to learn more about her.

Museum Exhibitions

Call it Orphism

Contributed by Adam Simon / At a Four Walls event in Brooklyn in the early 1990s, Erik Oppenheim, at that time a young artist, stood up and said, “I’m starting an art movement. Anyone who wants to join, meet me in the back after the show.” It was a hilarious and audacious gesture, in part because no one joins an art movement on a whim, like a list-serve or an exercise class, but also because there hadn’t been any artist-initiated movements for a very long time. They proliferated in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century with the advent of Impressionism, Surrealism, Futurism, and Dada, and enjoyed something of a resurgence in the 1960s with Fluxus in the United States, Supports/Surfaces and Zero in Europe, and the Gutai Group in Japan. Most of what we consider movements were proclaimed by an outside observer, usually a critic or curator, looking to group artists who had similar concerns and made work that fit the designation. For the artists themselves to rally around a specific cause, even an aesthetic one, was not required. 

Remembrance

The Wild Art of Barbara Westman

Contributed by David Carrier / Just to the left of my writing desk is a painting of a magnificent tree with bright orange blossoms. Below it is a now faded postcard of a drawing of Barbara Westman, who died earlier this year at age 95, and her husband Arthur Danto sitting on a sofa with their dogs Charlotte and Emilia. To the right, a work on paper shows Danto taking the dogs for a walk in Manhattan. These Westman pieces more than hold their own against the prints of old European master works, Japanese woodcut, and Bill Anthony drawings that surround them. Anytime I feel discouraged by the slow progress of my work or the political news, I need only look at them to be cheerful again.