Linda Norden

  • film May 20, 2016

    Time and Time Again

    NEW-TO–NEW YORK Museum of Arts and Design chief curator Shannon R. Stratton has put together an inspired, seductive sleeper of an exhibition that resets the potential for the long-fraught MAD. Stratton’s “In Time (The Rhythm of the Workshop),” unfolds as an essay, deploying three films focused on the act of making in the industrial workplace against the museum’s more typical celebration of high-end, handmade avant-garde objects.

    The show brings together filmmakers Andreas Bunte, Denis Côté, and Daniel Eisenberg—of Berlin, Montreal, and Chicago, respectively—each of whom, in the well-crafted words

  • IN SEARCH OF . . . : THE ART OF JOHN McCRACKEN

    John McCracken got filed under “Finish Fetish” and “LA Minimalism” in the first phases of his career, which worked only to his short-term advantage. McCracken’s peers never really found a way to name his paranormal objects and objectives. It took a younger generation, readier to read our world as occupied by multiple intelligences and beings, to appreciate just how possessed and wildly empathetic McCracken was as an artist. And it’s still not clear what McCracken’s extraordinarily concentrated, homemade extraterrestrials—or the escalating consciousness within which he imagined himself and

  • Linda Norden

    JOHN WESLEY MUST MEASURE well over six feet. Yet at the opening of the monumental retrospective orchestrated by Germano Celant for the Fondazione Prada, in the vast Venetian halls of the Fondazione Giorgio Cini, Wesley’s imposing silhouette was obscured by hundreds of well-wishers. This was not a typical event for an artist long treated as an outsider, an exception to all the art world’s rules.

    Indeed, ever since 1963, when Donald Judd threw up his hands in happy despair and proclaimed Wesley’s art “interesting” but essentially uncategorizable—“what some bumpkin made of appearances for some

  • diary November 02, 2008

    Night at the Museum

    New York

    “LIKE A CHRISTMAS TREE” is the way Pierre Huyghe described the effect he was after when he blacked out the Guggenheim’s cavernous interior for the Opening event he staged the Friday evening before last; the artist’s contribution to the museum’s current all-over exhibition, “theanyspacewhatever,” required viewers to sport tiny headlights to navigate the building’s spiral ramp. In recalling the familiar holiday emblem, Huyghe referred to the way the decorative lights disappear the tree’s branches and boughs, leaving behind only the fragrance of pine and a disembodying pinpoint constellation. An

  • Linda Norden

    SINCE OPENING IN 2003, Schaulager in Basel has come to specialize in what might be described as gestalt retrospectives—highly intelligent monographic shows that reenact an artist’s practice more than provide conventional chronological reconstructions of an artist’s work. Two years ago, Jeff Wall’s cool conceptualism unfolded here in almost mathematical sets, a single gallery (and then sequence of galleries) proposing a succession of potentially disparate photo setups as a larger formal and sociological hypothesis. In 2006, Francis Alÿs’s performative relationship to artmaking benefited from

  • Mary Heilmann

    As if to make up for our belated recognition of Mary Heilmann, Armstrong has organized not one but two exhibitions around the artist’s work. The main attraction, Heilmann’s first US retrospective, should illustrate her commitment to both painting and immediacy—extending back four decades to a time when the New York art world embraced neither—in sixty high-voltage pictures made without recourse to psychological projection, literary detail, or any assertion of image. The concurrent “Something About Mary” gathers works from a multigenerational roster of artists (

  • THE ELEPHANT IN THE PAINTING: THE ART OF AMY SILLMAN

    THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM: a phrase that means something is present but invisible, determinative but denied. In painter Amy Sillman’s groundbreaking exhibition at New York’s Sikkema Jenkins & Co. gallery last spring, the idiom served as the loaded title of what is in retrospect one of her key works—a large and, for Sillman, uncharacteristically empty painting. Densely layered but sparingly drawn, the canvas features two perpendicular blocks of color—opaque apricot in the canvas’s lower portion and, atop that, a rectangle of gradated yellow—that describe a space containing little more than what

  • Jason Rhoades

    Well before his untimely death on August 1, 2006, at the age of forty-one, Jason Rhoades had made an indelible mark on the art of his generation. Artforum asked four of Rhoades’s colleagues and friends to reflect on the man and his work.

    LINDA NORDEN

    The thing with Perfect World is you can fall off of it and it can kill you. You can walk on this surface, but it has these holes, these cracks and these soft spots, these traps, where it’s just papered over. It is kind of a reality of (my) working. I wanted to build this thing which somehow mimics real life.

    —Jason Rhoades, in a 1999 interview with