Annie Godfrey Larmon

  • Nicholas Mangan

    Nicholas Mangan’s inquiry into the transformation and commodification of the natural world has become increasingly self-aware. The Melbourne-based artist often uses materials as metonyms for complex geopolitical and eco-financial histories. Take Nauru: Notes from a Cretaceous World, 2009–10, a video that details the financial collapse of the Micronesian island of Nauru due to the colonial exploitation of its phosphate. Or his 2013 video installation Progress in Action, which traces the history of the Pacific island Bougainville’s fight for independence from Papua New Guinea. Following protests

  • Unica Zürn’s Trumpets of Jericho

    The Trumpets of Jericho, by Unica Zürn; translated by Christina Svendsen. Cambridge, MA: Wakefield Press, 2015. 80 pages.

    “MINE IS THE REALM OF SILK.” So Surrealist artist Unica Zürn weaves a material backdrop for her slender but gutting 1968 novella about childbirth. And yet nothing here is smooth. As she dips and stutters through telegraphic references to mythology and personal memories, hypnagogically recounting a violent delivery, she can’t help but see the fiber everywhere. Silk is the blood that runs from the naked breasts of pillaging Tartars to mix with the semen from a duck’s love nest.

  • Mika Tajima

    If cyberspace is, as novelist William Gibson once described it, a “consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators,” then Mika Tajima translates the side effects of this collective trip into impractical biotechnical objects. The three series that were on view in the artist’s second exhibition at 11R continued her project of cannibalizing the cool rationalism of modernist design in order to reflect the precariousness of subjects in the networked, performance-driven, and speculative world of late capitalism. In past works, Tajima revealed the ways in which the utopian

  • Ramin Haerizadeh, Rokni Haerizadeh, and Hesam Rahmanian

    Ramin Haerizadeh, Rokni Haerizadeh, and Hesam Rahmanian’s project might be described as one of ecstatic accumulation. The Iranian-born, Dubai–based artists (two brothers and their childhood friend) live and work together in a shared home, the trappings of which rival the rococo extremes of Diana Vreeland’s Park Avenue apartment. At the ICA, the artists translated the logic of their living situation—both its aesthetic and its participatory ethos—into an immersive installation. Collages, assemblages, and videos produced collectively (many on-site) and individually evoke, by turns, the

  • Alex Bag

    For Alex Bag’s solo show, which opened in concert with Art Basel Miami Beach this past December, the art-establishment farceur reprised her 2001 mockumentary about the fictional pimp-cum-cultural entrepreneur Leroy LeLoup (played by the artist’s brother, Damian Bag, in a skunky wig) some fifteen years after he debuted his “gallery” (housed in a souped-up white Dodge Ram) at the 2001 Armory Show in New York. Untitled (The Van), 2001—a scabrous and still apt parody of the art world’s simultaneous demand for critique and complicit consumerism—is screened inside the titular van, which was

  • UnREAL

    WHEN ROSALIND KRAUSS likened the feedback loop of video to a mirror’s reflection in her landmark 1976 essay on early video art, she couldn’t have dreamed of the extreme-sport navel-gazing of today’s nth-generation reality television. If Krauss articulated the prison effect of video’s illusionistic conflation of subject and object, the first season of UnREAL, Lifetime’s eviscerating metadrama about the producers of an “unscripted” reality dating show, demonstrates that the only way out is backdoor parole: dying behind bars.

    A Brechtian reveal occurs not ten seconds into the show’s pilot. An aerial

  • Ian Cheng

    In the bleak ahistorical dreamscapes of Ian Cheng’s “live simulations”—indeterminate virtual ecosystems governed by a basic set of programmed evolutionary laws—vaguely avian clots writhe over barren tundra, Shiba Inus collude in a thicket, children become puppets become zombies, and geologic formations amass and crumble. Each simulation looks like a digital Darwinian snow globe filled with discrete elements that collide and mutate; it’s a world continually shaken to thwart gravity and narrative alike. For his first solo exhibition at a museum in Europe, Cheng,

  • 13th Biennale De Lyon: “La Vie Moderne

    Have we never been modern? Rugoff’s show turns Bruno Latour’s famous thesis about the non-existence of modernity into a question. Indeed, even after the many pronouncements of its death, modernism has been continually cannibalized and reanimated. Featuring works by sixty artists from twenty-eight countries, this show homes in on the ways in which modernism’s specter haunts the uncertainties that underlie discourses of postcolonialism and immigration, environmental degradation, and economic precariousness. With Kader Attia’s video installation taking up the cultural aftermath


    ONE OF THE MOST ICONIC THEFTS in postwar cinema might also be the most subtle—not a spectacular heist but a scene in Robert Bresson’s classic Pickpocket (1959), in which a disembodied tangle of larcenous hands pilfer wallets by replacing them with folded newspapers of similar weight and dimension, leaving their victims unaware of the cunning substitution. I was reminded of this transactional choreography of intimate dipping and reaching among bodies—its erotics of voyeurism, violation, and immersion, as well as its logic of exchange—as I climbed through “Die Hexe” (The Witch),

  • “The Blue of Distance”

    Blue, writer and historian Rebecca Solnit muses, is the “color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go.” Indeed, the hue’s synonymy with absence, melancholy, and transcendence is perhaps epitomized by Derek Jarman’s final film, Blue (1993)—its saturated ultramarine projection echoing the filmmaker’s experience of going blind. Lifting its title and marrow from Solnit’s 2008 essay “The Blue of Distance,” this exhibition presents works by nine artists who engage this particular phenomenon of obscuration. From “

  • Thea Djordjadze

    “The next instant, do I make it?” asked Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector in her 1973 novel, Água Viva. “Or does it make itself?” Her rumination might well be a recurrent thought within Thea Djordjadze’s practice; the artist’s works seem to appear by some improbable marriage of haphazardry and divination. Take, for example, Untitled, 2012, in which a wall-mounted wooden box is clad in a sheath of IKEA-grade white faux fur, puckered by industrial staples. The fit is just short of perfect, such that a seductive cleavage runs down the box’s torso. Or She didn’t have friends, children, sex, religion,

  • interviews December 02, 2014

    Maya Lin

    In 2012, three decades after ground was broken for her Vietnam Veterans Memorial, artist and architect Maya Lin unveiled her final memorial: What Is Missing?, a multimedia project and interactive website charged with garnering awareness of and offering remedies for the mounting biodiversity crisis. Here, Lin discusses this work. An exhibition that focuses on the project and related sculptures is also on view at the Nevada Museum of Art through January 4, 2015.

    ONE COULD ARGUE that none of my memorials have been monuments. Rather, they have been antimonuments—even the Vietnam memorial. I like to

  • diary August 12, 2014

    Heart to Art

    WHILE SQUEEZING into a diminutive plane in Denver the Wednesday before last, the group of art-worlders en route to the Aspen Art Museum’s tenth annual three-day ArtCrush benefit auction and bacchanal were barraged with a squawk: “But I ran that gallery! That really pisses me off!” A dealer, oblivious to the range of his broadcast, lambasted an unnamed colleague on the phone. “Ohhh my gahhhhdd, she’s unmerciful!” he proceeded. “You’ve got to do something like this ultra, ultra quietly!” As giggles matured into cautionary laughter, a journalist sitting across the aisle finally alerted the yapper

  • “Katinka Bock: A and I”

    Paris-based German sculptor Katinka Bock’s formally austere objects often strike a mild dissonance with the spaces that contain them. Made from found wood, cement, iron, and sand, her works revisit the vernacular of Arte Povera to meditate on the constant transformation of matter; her slabs, heaps, and scatterings of patinated raw material seem to trace the crawling duration of entropy or to distill some telluric current. In Bock’s first major exhibition in an American museum, twenty-odd new and recent sculptures, installations, and drawings will be on view, and a series

  • picks October 21, 2013

    Société Réaliste

    Jagged text on a new hot-red awning on Broome Street instructs “Lasciate ogne stranezza voi ch’intrate” (Abandon all strangeness ye who enter here). The work, produced by the Paris-based cooperative Société Réaliste as part of their first solo exhibition in New York, jiggers the welcome note to hell from Dante’s Inferno, which mandates that entrants abandon all hope. That strangeness is commensurate with hope is the backbone of critique in “A Rough Guide to Hell,” which includes seven works that dilate the nearly immaterial architecture of computer code to the aesthetic persuasions of typeface,

  • interviews July 24, 2013

    Alex Da Corte

    Alex Da Corte is a Philadelphia-based artist, collector, and scavenger. His work in video, installation, and painting is invested in troubling and disseminating the notion of authorship while simultaneously tracing networks and communities. He speaks here about his solo exhibition “Fun Sponge,” on view at the Institute of Contemporary Art at Maine College of Art until August 4, 2013. Da Corte’s work is also featured in a two-person solo show with Borna Sammak at Oko Gallery in New York until September 12, 2013, and in a solo show at Joe Sheftel Gallery in New York from September 8 to October,

  • picks May 06, 2013


    In 1986, Conceptual art pioneer Seth Siegelaub founded the Amsterdam-based Centre for Social Research on Old Textiles (CSROT), an institution dedicated to investigating the social history of textiles. Today, the CSROT’s collection contains over 650 objects and 7,000 books. While an exhibition last year at Raven Row, titled “The Stuff That Matters,” privileged Siegelaub’s bibliographic research, “Tradition” takes a pointedly different tack, placing the objects in an unmoored space of inquiry that takes up the constitution of textiles as carriers of interwoven aesthetic and economic histories.