Tuesday, June 23, 2026
Contemporary Figure Sculpture online
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Venice Biennial 2026 : Martin Puryear versus Alma Allen
The honor (or former honor) of representing the United States eventually went to Alma Allen, a competent but hardly compelling sculptor of bronze and marble plaques and curlicues. …….
The 2026 U.S. Pavilion offers a twinned sensation of outrage and exhaustion. The government's selection process has debased what was once a major stage for American art. Allen, on that stage, has declined to flatter his benefactors — but neither has he shown the rest of us that the concessions were worthwhile. The 20-odd sculptures here, ranging from a gourd of Mexican onyx to a stylized bronze of a boy clutching his legs, look fine enough for a South Beach hotel lobby. They do not offend, except in their inertness. Visitors may experience a numbness - am I feeling anything? do I even care?……..
Biomorphic, talismanic, Brancusi for beginners (and a century late for that), these sculptures present some modest technical facility but no great thought. They are abstract-ish, but have no real faith in abstraction. They require no greater interpretation than the vocabulary children use to describe clouds: This one could be a snail, that one a cat, this one a tank. "Call Me the Breeze," the show is titled. Bronze may be heavy, but this is as insubstantial as air.
National or cultural history had to be accounted for in a place like this. It'd be far better for everyone if we just did away with the unhelpful 1900s inheritance of these country-by-country displays. But if we have to have them, then an artist working within nationalist walls has no other choice than to work at the nexus of form and history.
Why can't we just enjoy things? Because the form of a work of art is always situated. It has to be meaningful both on its own terms, through scale and shape and color and line, and simultaneously meaningful within an institutional framework. Nowhere is that double demand more urgent than in a national pavilion, and several American artists, notably Ed Ruscha and Martin Puryear, have done that with distinction when they represented the U.S. Other artists, mistaking the assignment, have fallen into point-and-click celebration and moralism; the last Biden-stamped American pavilion, at which Jeffrey Gibson displayed garish totems and punching bags with didactic slogans like "We Want To Be Free,"
But any putative inner exile is hard to square with the fact that a good fraction of these silly things used to sit on the median of Park Avenue in New York, sprucing up a business thoroughfare like so much 1970s "plop art." So the apter and sadder interpretation is that these are precisely what they look like: decorative baubles, nonchalant about form and situation, offering a perfectly flattering reflection to any aesthete or authoritarian gazing at their polished surfaces.
Psychologically charged and compulsively expressive, Alma Allen’s works evoke a curiosity regarding the life of objects and the ways in which form and material can circumnavigate the utility of language. Known for his distillation of diverse organic references, the artist’s works simultaneously invite and resist classification.
Thursday, April 02, 2026
Contemporary Landscape painting found online
Tuesday, March 24, 2026
Drunken Sword Calligraphy
Saturday, March 21, 2026
Contemporary Figurative Painting found online
Friday, March 20, 2026
Sunday morning at the Art Institute of Chicago
With two new special exhibits, it was time to visit the museum before my membership expires.
I was going to review them, but as it turned out, neither were that remarkable.
On the other hand, this piece from the permanent collection really grabbed me:
I reviewed it "here"
The cosmic spectacle certainly captured my attention - like Thomas Cole’s “The Course of Empire” - but it’s too painful to ever want to see again.
At 1200 square feet, it’s the largest piece in the entire museum.
But still it felt claustrophobic and I badly needed fresh air.
Finally, I had to visit the great Rodin standing figures above the main stairway. I’ve recently been studying contrasting accounts of “the father of modern sculpture”, and posted the photos taken at the very end of this post.






