Stuart Greenspan

  • Thirteen Sculptors

    Jean Feinberg, who was formerly curator at the now comatose Nassau County Museum of Fine Arts, brought together the work of 13 sculptors at the Robert Freidus loft. Most were relatively unfamiliar, some unknown in New York. The show consisted of 32 sculptures, both large and small in scale, models and full-size pieces commissioned for this exhibition, and 11 drawings, most of which were related to the sculptures shown. It was a special event because so much contemporary sculpture is anonymous and intimidating; it rarely informs or comforts us. At best, it softens the hard edges of modern life.

  • Richard Tuttle

    Richard Tuttle’s 1975 exhibition at the Whitney provoked Hilton Kramer—not widely known for his sense of humor—into writing what unwittingly may be his most entertaining review ever, in which the venerable New York Times critic composed adorable word plays on the minimalness of Tuttle’s art. If Tuttle accomplished nothing else in his career, what he did for Kramer’s reputation at that moment would be enough. But Kramer’s vituperative criticism was lighthearted and mild compared to what other writers made of Tuttle and the organizer of that exhibition, the then Whitney curator Marcia Tucker. The

  • Ilse Getz

    For over 30 years, Ilse Getz has worked and exhibited extensively—if sporadically—both here and in Europe, without ever achieving the kind of recognition that an artist of her ability deserves. She has never pushed her work before the public, while she has always enjoyed the friendship and esteem of other artists. An independent woman, she has never had to prove to herself that she was either a woman or an artist. Perhaps her independence has robbed her of the credit she deserves. If she were a feminist involved in female subject matter, and not just a woman artist, she would undoubtedly have

  • Mel Bochner

    It is unlikely that those who speak of the beauty of mathematics have in mind the recent wall paintings of Mel Bochner. They may recall Matisse’s environmental papiers collés, Monet’s Orangerie Nympheas, even Sol LeWitt’spastel wall drawings, but embarrassingly not a single formula, theorem or equation. Perhaps it is not so much embarrassment as guilt for just enjoying these paintings so much. Bochner revealed himself as a brilliant colorist, and while it has been noted to death that he owes a great debt to Constructivism, these new paintings display as well a surprising and happy affinity for

  • Sylvia Sleigh

    I have always been guarded in my appreciation of the work of Sylvia Sleigh and the group of like-minded figurative painters around her. I have sometimes suspected that we support the courage of anyone who goes against the mainstream, and in our efforts to be objective in our criticism we bend over backward to be fair; if it looks bad at first sight, we try harder to find something good in it—the Emperor’s New Clothes Syndrome. Yet Sleigh’s recent series of portraits of women artists so offended me that, finally, I turned my back on the pictures to look elsewhere for the reasons for her vogue.

  • “Architecture I”

    It was inevitable that such a show as “Architecture I”—an exhibition of architects’ drawings and models—would occur, following the numerous museum exhibitions of architectural drawings which have been presented in the past two years. Organized by Pierre Apraxine (curator of the Gilman Paper Corporation, which is one of the few major collectors of architectural drawings), “Architecture I” brought together the work of seven European and American architects (Emilio Ambasz, Raimund Abraham, Walter Pichler, Aldo Rossi, James Stirling, and Robert Venturi), who represent “the diverse esthetic and