The artist Lori Nix, who considers herself a “faux landscape photographer,” spends months constructing tiny dioramas out of cardboard, glue, and point—only to destroy them. Collected in The City, a recently published book, her photographs of these crumbling miniature buildings imagine a post-apocalypic future, room by room.
A couple of hours after the Boston Red Sox, who finished last in their division in 2012, beat the St. Louis Cardinals to win the World Series on Wednesday night, BuzzFeed's sports verticle predictably posted a photo listicle titled "Boston’s World Series Run In 43 Photographs." I found it incredibly boring—and that's coming from someone who grew up in Massachusetts.
With “See It Loud,” the National Academy has performed the rather extraordinary feat of turning a postwar movement in which women were every bit as prominent as men into a boy’s club with not a single girl in sight.
Stephen Shore's photos will make you put away your camera phone
His pictures are both antidote and antecedent to our compulsive, social-media photography.
The insufferable spectacle of the Met's TEDx conference
When Thomas P. Campbell was tapped to lead the Metropolitan Museum of Art in 2009, he came across as a quieter, more self-effacing sort of museum director. Campbell—or “Tapestry Tom,” as his colleagues called him, as he is a specialist in textile arts—was not a wheeler-dealer with proven fundraising skills. At just 46, he’d never led a museum or even a museum department. But he was a scholar, with a scholar’s concerns.
Over the course of the shutdown, the closure of the National World War II Memorial and its periodic, Bastille-style forcible reopening became a sort of emblem of the whole sordid affair.
Boston Red Sox rooters like my colleagues Jonathan Cohn and Ryan Kearney were probably too excited about their team’s come-from-behind victory last night to notice a striking similarity between the photo of the game-tying grand slam and a famous Flemish painting.In the painting, “Landscape with the Fall of Icarus,” the sixteenth-century painter Pieter Bruegel depicts a harbor landscape with a ploughman, shepherd and fisherman in the foreground, and the ships and harbor in the background.
The technical term for a work of art that contains itself, or something like itself, is mise en abyme. (Literally “to place into an abyss,” but commonly translated as “mirror in the text.”) A painting of people posing for a painting (or even containing a curtain in one corner) is deploying mise en abyme.
What’s wrong with a museum displaying knock-off art?
To the right of the grand staircase leading up to the circle at the Teatro Valle in Rome is a plaque that says the theatre hosted the premiere in 1921 of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author. Now regarded as a modernist classic, the play shocked early audiences and was greeted with shouts of “Manicomio!” (“madhouse”) on its opening night.