Kaelen Wilson-Goldie

  • Walid Raad, Scratching on things I could disavow: Walkthrough, 2007–. Performance view, Museum of Modern Art, New York, October 5, 2015. Photo: Julieta Cervantes.

    Walid Raad

    SINCE THE LATE 1990s, Lebanese artist Walid Raad has embarked on two major long-term projects, each generating a wealth of videos, installations, performances, sculptural objects, and photographic prints. The first, known as the Atlas Group, concerns the recent history of Lebanon, including the country’s devastating fifteen-year-long civil war and the stalled and controversial reconstruction of its capital, Beirut. The second, titled Scratching on things I could disavow, 2007–, considers the fraught processes by which institutions are shaping the categories of modern and contemporary Arab

  • Mohammed Melehi, Untitled, 1971, cellulosic on wood, 43 1/4 × 43 1/4".

    Marrakech Biennale 6: “Not New Now”

    The Marrakech Biennale’s first eleven years have been quite a roller-coaster ride. Now the Palestinian curator Reem Fadda, an art historian by training, is stepping in to give the event a sounder structure and a wealth of new ideas. The sixth edition is set to explore the legacies of decolonization and the efforts and failures of the once-grand Pan-Arab and Pan-African projects, as well as the tensions between futurism and nostalgia that often underlie political urgency and civic responsibility. Fadda is organizing a tight exhibition—three venues, fewer than fifty

  • Left: Artists Yasmine Dubois Ziai and Brian William Rogers. Right: Ashkal Alwan director Christine Tohme with artist Ahmad Ghoussein. (All photos: Kaelen Wilson-Goldie)
    diary November 29, 2015

    So You Think You Can Dance

    AT THE END OF MAO II (1991), Don DeLillo’s prescient yet strangely underappreciated novel of art, terrorism, and mass hysteria, a New York photographer named Brita turns up in Beirut’s southern suburbs to photograph a shadowy militia leader called Abu Rashid. It’s the later stages of the civil war, and Brita is on assignment, winding her way through destroyed buildings and a stubbornly vibrant street life. “Her driver is a man about sixty who pronounces the second b in bomb,” writes DeLillo. “He has used the word about eleven times and she waits for it now, softly repeating it after him. The

  • Left: Sursock Museum director Zeina Arida with Yasmine Chemali, head of collections and archives. Right: Architect David Adjaye with curator Massimiliano Gioni. (All photos: Kaelen Wilson-Goldie)
    diary October 29, 2015

    Sudden Bloom

    IT’S LATE ON A WARM FRIDAY EVENING and I’m wandering around a new addition to an old museum, feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland. For all the years I’ve known it, the Sursock Museum has been a quaint but sleepy place to visit, housed in an ornate little palace on a quiet tree-lined street in one of Beirut’s wealthier, historically Greek Orthodox neighborhoods. Built at the end of the Ottoman Empire, the pile belonged to an aristocratic family whose patriarch, after the formation of the Lebanese state, donated the building to Beirut—on the condition that it become a museum after his death,

  • Nathalie Khayat, Untitled, 2015, unglazed porcelain, 22 7/8 × 13 3/8 × 13 3/8".

    Nathalie Khayat

    Nathalie Khayat’s exhibition “The Eye Above the Well” featured twenty-seven porcelain and stoneware vessels that were all roughly the size of a person’s torso. Eleven of them were displayed together on a low platform. The rest were placed on waist-high pedestals throughout the space. The effect was sculptural, or rather statuesque—as if one were regarding figurative presences rather than vases. What’s more, every single one of these bodies was damaged in some way: cracked, folded, knotted, torn, punctured, seemingly sutured, or halfway collapsed.

    Khayat, who makes both functional design

  • Left: Istanbul Biennial artistic director Carolyn Christov-Bakargiev. Right: Musicians Burhan Öçal and Cory Wilkes with artist Theaster Gates. (Except where noted, all photos: Kaelen Wilson-Goldie)
    diary September 07, 2015

    Breaking the Waves

    IT’S EARLY MORNING in Istanbul and from the upper deck of a small pleasure boat I’m watching the sun pop over the hills, an improbably pink orb playing hide and seek with the clouds and fog. There are thirty of us here wiping the sleep from our eyes as we chug north on the Bosphorus, heading for the Black Sea. We’ve only just discovered our destination. The boat is strewn with microphones, musical instruments, two dozen glass teacups, a well-read copy of an Elif Şafak novel, and a cigarette long abandoned in its ashtray, burning away. No one seems to know what comes next.

    The occasion for this

  • Willem de Kooning, Woman, 1953–54, oil on paperboard, 35 3/4 × 24 3/8". From “From Ancient to Modern: Archaeology and Aesthetics.”  © The Willem de Kooning Foundation/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

    “From Ancient to Modern: Archaeology and Aesthetics”

    “There is a train track in the history of art that goes way back to Mesopotamia,” Willem de Kooning once said. “Duchamp is on it. Cézanne is on it. Picasso and the Cubists are on it; Giacometti, Mondrian and so many, many more,” including, one might add, the organizers of this small, studious, remarkably concise exhibition at New York University’s Institute for the Study of the Ancient World. “From Ancient to Modern: Archaeology and Aesthetics” took that train running the opposite way, following archaeological objects from Mesopotamia to the present day. The show featured two lush, powerful,

  • Walid Raad

    The heart of Walid Raad’s first major museum survey in the US is neither a sly series of photographs nor a lo-fi video slipping between fact and fiction, but rather a theatrical stage set, built into MoMA’s vast atrium. There, Raad is scheduled to perform Scratching on Things I Could Disavow: Walkthrough, 2013, more than seventy times in total. Originally commissioned for Documenta 13, Walkthrough is the linchpin of a long-term project that explores the institutions and infrastructures of contemporary art in the Arab world. Raad’s first was, of course, the Atlas Group, the

  • 14th Istanbul Biennial: “Saltwater: A Theory of Thought Forms”

    With more than eighty participants, thirty venues, and the admonition to set aside three days to see everything, the Istanbul Biennial promises to make greater use of the city than ever before. For this edition it’s not only the city but also the Black Sea, the Bosporus, and the Sea of Marmara; also boats, islands, and Istanbul’s Asian side. New locations privilege the intimate—the house where Trotsky sought exile in 1929, the apartment where journalist Hrant Dink lived until his assassination in 2007—and taken together, they evince the ways in

  • Fouad Elkoury, The Picnic, 1979, ink-jet print, 15 3/4 × 25 5/8". From the series “Civil War,” 1977–86.

    Kaelen Wilson-Goldie

    IN SONALLAH IBRAHIM’S NOVEL Beirut, Beirut (1984), an unnamed Egyptian writer leaves his home in Cairo and boards a plane for the Lebanese capital. The year is 1980, and the writer has hidden a manuscript in the lining of his luggage. Detecting a lull or possibly an end to the civil war that broke out in Lebanon five years earlier (it would continue for another decade), he is traveling to see a publisher. His manuscript is politically damning and sexually daring and nobody in the Arab world will touch it—except possibly in Beirut, which is historically known for publishing books that would

  • Fouad Elkoury, Oum Koulthoum Café in Luxor, 1990, ink-jet print, 23 3/4 × 35 1/2".

    Fouad Elkoury

    In 1849, Gustave Flaubert and Maxime Du Camp set off on an adventure to the East. For two young Frenchmen of the mid-nineteenth-century haute bourgeoisie, the East meant Egypt, so they made their way from Paris to Marseille, where they boarded a ship for Alexandria. From there they traveled south to Cairo and on to the city of Esna. They continued to Karnak, Beirut, and Jerusalem before heading home. Du Camp took more than two hundred pictures, many of which were bound into the book Egypte, Nubie, Palestine et Syrie (1852), a landmark in the history of photography. Flaubert, of course, found

  • Mona Hatoum

    Twenty-one years have passed since Mona Hatoum’s first major museum show at the Centre Pompidou. By 1994, she already had nearly two decades of work behind her but was just beginning to gain international prominence. Hatoum has cut a curious path through the intervening decades, from the muscular look of her oversize kitchen utensils to the fragility of her sculptures in glass and textiles. This summer, the Pompidou is reconstructing the full arc of Hatoum’s oeuvre. With seventy-five pieces dating from the 1970s through 2014 and a catalogue anthologizing key writings