• “Monir Shahroudy Farmanfarmaian: Sunset, Sunrise”

    Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA)
    Royal Hospital Military Road Kilmainham
    August 10 - November 25

    Curated by Rachael Thomas

    As the sculptor Siah Armajani has noted, Monir Shahroudy Farmanfarmaian was the first Iranian artist of her generation to use cut-glass mosaics as a medium, as art without religious function. Farmanfarmaian was born to a family of ayatollahs, merchants, and Ottoman aristocrats. She studied painting and sculpture in Tehran and had wanted to move to Paris but ended up in New York via Bombay in the 1940s. She fell in with a crowd of artists. She made a disco ball for Andy Warhol. She returned to Iran in 1957 and apprenticed herself to local craftspeople. She experimented with strict geometries but also with the forms of flowers and waves. In 2014, after four decades of work, she was given her first museum retrospective, and now she has had many. “Sunset, Sunrise” is poised to be among her most expansive. It will feature seventy works from her entire career—some never shown before—emphasizing her connection to nature and appreciation for folklore while celebrating her love of glitz, glitter, sequins, crystals, and pearls. Travels to the Sharjah Art Foundation, 2019. 

  • Rodney Graham, Halcion Sleep, 1994, video, black-and-white, silent, 26 minutes.


    Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA)
    Royal Hospital Military Road Kilmainham
    November 23 - November 30

    Curated by Seán Kissane

    Rodney Graham has long repudiated endings in favor of reverie-like ingresses to the past; this midcareer sampling of his work, dating from 1993 to 2017, will be a dream, almost. In the video Halcion Sleep, 1994, while drugged in the back of a car, the artist revisits both childhood memories of somnolent travel and Warhol’s Sleep. In Rheinmetall/Victoria 8, 2003, a 1961 Italian projector screens artificial snow falling on a pristine 1930s German typewriter—defunct technologies pairing to fabricate ethereality. Since 2007, in scrupulously mocked-up, hugely appealing light-box mise-en-scènes, Graham has guised himself, inter alia, as a well-heeled amateur artist perpetuating Morris Louis’s stylistics after his final show, and an old-school jazz drummer thoughtful over a steak supper. One of his own albums is titled Why Look for Good Times?, but assuredly Graham is an optimist. His oneiric fakeries always come barnacled with enigma and open-endedness, rewinding to move forward—or at least to move.