museum-of-fine-arts-boston
“Georgia O’Keeffe and Henry Moore” at the MFA builds a case for two artists that many are inclined to think of as “unlikely bedfellows.” Brava!
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Is the artist’s direction of clothing choices — and how he painted the garments — a sufficiently compelling inquiry in which to anchor an exhibit?
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It’s no wonder poets have been drawn to write about Guyer and Twombly’s work. We are carried away by an art that is always immediate, hic et nunc, but elsewhere too.
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While impressive, Life Magazine and the Power of Photography disappoints.
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While it’s too soon to call it timeless, the vitality in Philip Guston’s art has proved durable. But the structure around it – the “art world” in its blinkered, stultified form, institutional and academic in the worst senses of those words – has died and encased it.
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The quilts serve as landmarks whose significance is evolving with shifting times and demographics. Where have we come from, they ask. Where are we going? The answers are no longer what they were.
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I recommend this show for Lucian Freud’s highly polished craftsmanship, but his wry game of psychological hide-and-seek is not all that satisfying.
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Almost every painting here is a discovery worth making.
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In Garciela Iturbide’s photographs, the living and the dying are often joined at the (exposed) skeletal hip.
Read MoreHow palpable is the combat in Nowhere to Hide!
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