Pamela Kort

  • MARKUS LÜPERTZ

    America’s capital is the place to be this summer for aficionados of postwar German art as yet unfamiliar with the extraordinary and provocative oeuvre of Markus Lüpertz. After more than five decades slugging it out in the studio daily, the artist, now age seventy-five, is finally being accorded his first retrospective in America—and in two major museums to boot! While the Phillips will present a full-scale overview of his work made between the early 1960s and the present, the Hirshhorn will put on display dozens of the artist’s

  • Douglas Gordon

    Douglas Gordon’s recent multichannel video installation I Had Nowhere to Go, 2016, unfolds in unrelenting darkness. The only relief comes from several images and flashes of color that appear for varying lengths of time on the large screen, two small floor-mounted monitors, and mirrors scattered around the gallery walls. This space is dominated instead by the sound of a foreigner reading, in English, dated passages in no particular order. The words ricochet off the metallic-looking walls until the voice goes silent. Suddenly a clatter of bullets and explosions flares up. There are also less

  • Verne Dawson

    Depicting such fantastical subjects as dinosaurs and even stranger hybrid creatures, as well as spaceship-like objects, the rather naive-looking paintings in Verne Dawson’s exhibition “Mermaid Money” at first seemed merely trite and self-indulgent. The exhibition’s title, however, hinted at what many of these works really are: searing commentaries on American consumer culture and its effects. One of the largest paintings in the show, Winsor McCay (all works cited, 2015) set the ball rolling. McCay, in case you’ve forgotten, was a cartoonist and animator whose images appealed to millions. His

  • Francesco Clemente

    It’s been nearly three decades since Francesco Clemente’s last big show in Berlin, at the Neue Nationalgalerie in 1984. And yet the three large “Tents” (all works 2012–13) featured in his recent exhibition of the same name make it clear that, far from running out of steam, this hard-to-classify artist is still pushing the limits of his art. Despite his new works’ scale—each measures about twenty by thirteen by ten feet—their effect is as light as a sorcerer’s touch: With them, Clemente turns the notion of artistic visibility by grace of institutional programming on its head. These “

  • Brent Wadden

    Working on a back-strap loom, this young Canadian artist intertwines acrylic yarns with hand-spun wools that he then stitches together and finally mounts on raw canvas. The large-scale works that result are more than simply intriguing: They take to task all kinds of preconceptions about painting. For starters, they brazenly refuse conventional distinctions between so-called “folk art” and “high art” practice. These works flaunt their indebtedness to indigenous traditions of artmaking, particularly those from the coast of Nova Scotia, where Wadden grew up. Initially just as important to him was

  • Chefs-d’oeuvre?”

    THE INAUGURAL SHOW at the new Centre Pompidou in Metz, France, demonstrates just what a well-thought-out exhibition can do. Although several reviewers saw the show as merely presenting a hit parade of mostly French classics borrowed from the rich collections of its partner in Paris, the museum’s director, Laurent Le Bon, and a handful of cocurators took on a much more challenging task. In fact, the exhibition—as the question mark in its title, “Chefs-d’oeuvre?” (Masterpieces?), implies—addresses both the evolving meaning of the term masterpiece and the factors that contribute to works

  • Markus Lüpertz

    Markus Lüpertz has invited misunderstanding for nearly half a century.

    Markus Lüpertz has invited misunderstanding for nearly half a century. Never mind the figuration: The East German iconoclast’s paintings, drawings, and sculptures undermine rather than confirm what they mean through images that do not stand for what they seem to say. Accompanied by a hefty catalogue (in German and English editions), this retrospective of some 130 works from 1963 to the present offers an important overview of Lüpertz’s sustained stylistic invention born of the artist’s ongoing dialogue with disparate traditions of picture making. Across Europe, the Albertina

  • Anton Henning

    ALTHOUGH HE IS LITTLE KNOWN in America, Anton Henning has become one of Germany’s most compelling artists. Born in Berlin in 1964, he found art school so boring that he dropped out, opting instead to train himself. A libertine at heart, Henning not only learned to paint but before long began to sculpt, record videos, design environments, and make music. In the late 1990s, he even established a fictive band, the Manker Melody Makers, as an alter ego, assuming the roles of all its members and documenting the band’s faux performances as though they were real events. The idea of a complete and closed

  • Jörg Immendorff

    JÖRG IMMENDORFF WAS A FIGHTER, and I miss his presence. News of his death last May came as no surprise; after struggling against the crippling effects of ALS for almost a decade, he died in his sleep at the age of sixty-one. What has proved more difficult is the fact of his silence. Immendorff was one of the ballsiest artists I have ever met. He lived his life to the fullest, and even when he was confined to a wheelchair not one word of self-pity passed through his lips. He didn’t give a damn what people thought; all he wanted to do was paint, teach, and enjoy himself on the weekends. Yet he

  • Made in Germany

    If you thought Berlin was where it’s at, it is time to travel to Hannover to find out more about art being made in Germany today. This vast exhibition, spread over three museums, presents seventy-five works in various media by fifty-two artists, both German and nonnative, working within the country’s borders. Featuring artists such as Fernando Bryce, Sabine Hornig, and Simon Starling, “Made in Germany” sets its sights on recent work, with nearly 70 percent of the show consisting of brand-new pieces. Framing this survey is a cultural-political

  • Georg Baselitz

    “GEORG BASELITZ: PAINTER,” a brilliantly installed exhibition at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, is a real stunner—it’s a pity it is not traveling to the United States. Cannily positioning older works beside newer ones, the show brings to light the cyclical nature of Baselitz’s working process, one that doubles back on itself, and persistently questions the possibilities afforded by the genres, styles, and motifs of painting. It also makes clear that more than merely turning painting on its head, the artist has been attempting to redefine the genre’s borders since the early 1960s.

    The show

  • Georg Baselitz: Pictures Turning the Head Topsy-Turvy

    Comprising roughly 130 paintings and sculptures from 1959 to the present, this retrospective, organized in close cooperation with the artist, will indeed turn your head around.

    Georg Baselitz’s art is about retrospection. By distancing himself from a recent past, he draws nearer to it in order to cease hankering after it. Comprising roughly 130 paintings and sculptures from 1959 to the present, this retrospective, organized in close cooperation with the artist, will indeed turn your head around. By juxtaposing older and newer works, it zeroes in on key ideas and motifs in Baselitz’s oeuvre. His well-known upside-down paintings signal his supreme subject: the genre of art itself. Not content simply to dismantle its techniques, styles, and icons,

  • “Kunst in der DDR”

    This exhibition was not to be missed. The first—and perhaps, unfortunately, the last—massive museum survey of painting, drawing, sculpture, photography, and film made in the former German Democratic Republic (GDR) in the forty years of its existence (1949–89), “Kunst in der DDR” (Art in the GDR) couldn’t have been timelier. Its opening coincided, albeit unintentionally, with a cresting wave of nostalgia in Germany for East Germany. Six and a half million viewers watched the inaugural episode of the DDR Show on German television the first week in September, and almost as many—six

  • Berlin-Moscow/Moscow-Berlin 1950–2000

    This vast exhibition brings to the surface some of the most paradoxical questions today in cultural studies: “the future of nostalgia” (Svetlana Boym), the viability of replacing “the word ‘communist’ with ‘postmodernist’” (Mikhail Epstein), and the significance of borrowing political ideologies, industrial values, and artistic styles.

    This vast exhibition brings to the surface some of the most paradoxical questions today in cultural studies: “the future of nostalgia” (Svetlana Boym), the viability of replacing “the word ‘communist’ with ‘postmodernist’” (Mikhail Epstein), and the significance of borrowing political ideologies, industrial values, and artistic styles. Curated by Jürgen Harten, Pavel V. Khoroshilov, Angela Schneider, Christoph Tannert, Ekaterina Degot, and Viktor Misiano, the exhibition explores trends in post–World War II aesthetics. Focusing on Germany and Russia, the show features some 500 works by 200

  • Georg Baselitz

    PAMELA KORT: When you think back to the ’80s, what comes to the surface for you?

    GEORG BASELITZ: I’d like to talk about my relationship with America. It began in 1980. I showed a sculpture at the Venice Biennale, in the German pavilion with Anselm Kiefer. Shortly thereafter, Ileana Sonnabend sent me a letter, which was the first correspondence I had ever received from America. Within a week I got another letter, this time from Xavier Fourcade. Both gallerists offered me exhibitions. Their offers were totally unexpected; I didn’t think that there was an interest in German art in America. So Michael

  • Jörg Immendorff

    PAMELA KORT: What were the signal moments in the ’80s for you?

    JÖRG IMMENDORFF: In 1982 I had my first large museum show in Germany at the Kunsthalle Düsseldorf, where my “Café Deutschland” [1978–82] paintings were featured. Shortly thereafter I participated for the second time in Documenta, and just a few months later “Zeitgeist” opened at the Martin-Gropius-Bau in Berlin.

    This period was also important to me because of the interaction between the older generation of artists and much younger ones, like Walter Dahn and Georg Jiří Dokoupil, two of the Cologne artists grouped around the Mülheimer