Lars Bang Larsen

  • Green Blue Orange Room, 1971

    Ib Geersten

    Ib Geertsen is practically a father figure within Denmark’s artistic household. Generations of Danish artists have grown up with his colorful formalism in museums and public spaces, and now a younger audience has rediscovered Geertsen’s sensuous cool. Organized by the eighty-four-year-old artist himself in collaboration with Nikolaj director Elisabeth Delin Hansen, the exhibition comprises approximately eighty works spanning six decades. The focus will be on the spontaneous paintings from the ’40s as well as Geertsen’s trademark constructivism of the ’50s that translated into a range of media,

  • Henry VIII’s Wives

    Sometimes an artwork elicits a fine empathy for “all the living and the dead” by realizing its idiosyncrasies full scale. In a unique move of appropriation, Henry VIII’s Wives (a group consisting of artists Bob Grieve, Rachel Dagnall, Sirko Knüpfer, Simon Polli, Per Sander, and Lucy Skaer) have reconstructed the Neolithic Orkney village of Skara Brae, complete with burial house, residential areas, and a communal workshop. This artistic one-to-one reimagination doesn’t pander to fetishized production values but engages instead in a bricolage of both abstract and palpable historical material. The

  • Room 606 (the Arne Jacobson Suite), at the Royal Hotel, Copenhagen, 1960.

    Arne Jacobsen

    When it comes to twentieth-century Danish design, Arne Jacobsen (1902–1971) is your man. You name it, he did it, from gardens and furniture to silverware and high-rises. In fact, given the abiding presence of his all-encompassing creativity, it sometimes seems Jacobsen never left us. For this extensive centenary celebration, curator Kjeld Kjeldsen teams with historian Carsten Thau and architect Kjeld Vindum to emphasize the material and sensual aspects of the work. And to adjudicate Jacobsen’s architectural heritage, interpretations by

  • Istanbul Biennial

    Yuko Hasegawa, curator of this year’s Istanbul Biennial, set out to make an exhibition around what visual culture theorist Pierre Lévy has called the anthropology of cyberspace. Her idea was to deconstruct the traditional Western idea of the individual as an entity organized by and around a strong ego. “Egofugality” is nothing less than an evolutionary proposal, according to Hasegawa—the individual’s liberation from itself on a line of flight toward a collective intellect. Hasegawa describes a movement away from what she calls the West’s three monolithic M’s: man, monetarism, and materialism.

  • Eva Grubinger

    Eva Grubinger's Operation R.O.S.A., 2001, is a kind of Gesamtkunstwerk, orchestrating sound, sculpture, and the moving image to assay what might be called the new-economy consciousness. It features a several-meter-high video projection of a baby, as happy as in a diaper commercial and playing with a rattle comprised of emblematic objects in different colors. On the floor is a sculptural version of the rattle, in a 1:1 ratio with the oversize screen version—a scale disjunction which makes the sculpture eerily calibrated for paranoid speculation about its symbols: a triangular Moebius strip,

  • Liulia Marita, Son of a Bitch, 1999.

    ARS 01: Unfolding Perspectives

    Held approximately once every six years, the ARS exhibitions might be dubbed the Nordic Documenta—for both its near-half-decade frequency and the scope of its program.

    Held approximately once every six years, the ARS exhibitions might be dubbed the Nordic Documenta—for both its near-half-decade frequency and the scope of its program. Curated by Tuula Arkio, Maaretta Jaukkuri, Patrik Nyberg, and Jari-Pekka Vanhala, the sixth installment comprises work by seventy-six international artists. The critical fulcrum this time out is cultural hybridization and globalism, the latter thankfully not merely a shorthand for Western values: “Unfolding Perspectives” avoids some of the pitfalls that trip up so many well-meaning attempts to represent “other” people and cultures.

  • Berlin Biennale

    WITH EACH NEW VERSION OF A BIENNIAL, be it an established institution or an upstart like Berlin's, a simultaneous weaving and unraveling often takes place. As on Penelope's loom, a new texture arises. Various mechanisms may seem inescapably embedded in the process—the close adherence to a municipality (rather than its lived local context); a certain number of artists (thirty being the apparent minimum; maximum as yet unknown); and invariably, too few new commissions—but that's not necessarily to suggest that what's known as a biennial is a preordained operation. The success of a biennial

  • William Anastasi

    WILLIAM ANASTASI explores the elementary constituents of art—the viewing space, the viewer, pictorial space and its framing, time, chance, decision, etc.—and thereby plays with artistic cognition in its various forms. This retrospective (and a concurrent exhibition with Dove Bradshaw and John Cage at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Roskilde, Denmark) shows his work, with its tenacious ambition to shed all metaphysical pretension, to involve a constant approximation to the real. The wall removal pieces from 1966, for example, where a section of the coating of the wall in the exhibition

  • “Vision and Reality”

    The aim of “Vision and Reality: Conceptions of the 20th Century,” curated by the Louisiana Museum's Kjeld Kjeldsen, was to investigate real and visionary space in art and architecture. To show the theme’s historical basis in early avant-garde movements, the exhibition brought together seminal works of Futurism, De Stijl, Bauhaus, and Russian Constructivism and set them amid a range of later modernist and contemporary positions. Two very different highlights, at the beginning and at the end of the show, were Oskar Schlemmer’s Triadic Ballet costumes, 1922–26, and a reconstruction of Verner Panton’s