This word expresses a passivity that obscures the reality of these women’s stories. I prefer the more accurate “erased.”
For all the talk of synesthesia and the trans-sensory experience of music and color, music has been conspicuously absent from recent exhibitions of Kandinsky.
This rapidly expanding genre has had an upsurge since 2015, echoing the humanitarian crisis of a rising number of refugees entering the European Union.
An ordinance passed last year in Burlington, Vermont, directs city funds for public art only to work that is permanent and purchased from individual artists.
The only surprise perhaps is that this hasn’t come sooner given the extent to which the Louvre Museum expansively brands itself and its collection around the figure.
Both male and female faculty internalize the idea that responsibility for raising children precludes serious art and then they recapitulate it.
Guarding the Art has the chance to become the model for how museums honor and respect the dignity of their guards moving forward.
The genre originated in the first lockdown, when we learned to entertain ourselves with — and fix our gazes on — the minutiae of daily life.
Citizens deserve to know where and in what conditions the artworks find themselves in the Caracas Museum of Contemporary Art.
Our culture seems obsessed with the artist/model relationship, portrayed in countless movies and narratives as a relationship that is lustful and scandalous.
Hiding in plain sight, the box obscures a vast legacy of inequality without undoing it. It removes the most visible source of conflict without addressing the root causes.
As we begin a new year, a small moment on Queer Eye makes me think about the profound effect our stories can have on each other.