Paul Cadmus (December 17, 1904 – December 12, 1999) was an American artist, best known for his egg tempera paintings of gritty social interactions in urban settings. His paintings combine elements of eroticism and social critique in a style often called magic realism. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has recently reintroduced a series of his thematic paintings, The Seven Deadly Sins (1945 – 49), for exhibit in the museum’s Modern and Contemporary Art Galleries, and they are amazingly graphic works of surrealist horror art that are really something to see.
Between 1945 and 1949, Paul Cadmus turned his dexterous hand and fertile imagination to rendering the Seven Deadly Sins, a subject with biblical antecedents that artists (including Hieronymus Bosch and Pieter Bruegel the Elder) have explored since the Middle Ages.
Cadmus’s interpretation extends his predilection for social satire to surreal extremes of excess, vulgarity and gore. Of the series, Cadmus explained, “I don’t appear as myself, but I am all of the Deadly Sins in a way, as you all are, to.
I haven’t walked much on the High Line this winter, and I specially try to stay away from it at night, when there could be hidden ice or slippery conditions, or when isolation could make for unsafe circumstances. But this past week I was at an opening on 28th Street and decided on the spur of the moment to just walk the few blocks along the elevated park until I reached 23rd Street and could walk down to a bus. What scary fun it was to come upon this sculpture waiting in the semi-darkness at 24th Street!
This imposing figure is called Sphinx Joachim, and he is creation of artist Marguerite Humeau (b. 1986, France). Humeau is fond of using her artworks to weave factual events into speculative narratives, enabling unknown, invisible, or extinct forms of life to erupt in grandiose splendor. For the High Line, Humeau has proposed a sphinx as a winged lion that protects the site against potential enemies. Equipped with motion detectors, Sphinx Joachim roars as an alarm every time it senses a human presence. Scary, especially in the dark!
Sphinx Joachim is part of the High Line’s Mutations series and will be on display through March, 2018.
David Hockney’s most famous paintings of Los Angeles, such as A Bigger Splash (1967), depict a commonplace aspect of the city: private swimming pools. This is the final and the largest of three versions on the same theme, all based on an image that the artist found in a book about home pools. Hockney took care to keep the backdrop as flat — almost abstract — as possible, using rollers to apply the acrylic of the azure sky. The splash, in contrast, meticulously rendered with small brushes, took the artist nearly two weeks to finish. “I loved the idea of painting this thing which lasts for two seconds,” he said. “The painting took much longer to make than the splash existed for.” The result is one of the most iconic depictions of a certain upscale California lifestyle; aspirational, and perhaps more Hollywood make-believe than real.
Photographed as Part of the David Hockney Career Retrospective, on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC Through February 25th, 2018.
You can find this wheat paste mural of a Little Girl Blowing Bubbles at 540 West 20th Street, near 11th Avenue, in the Chelsea Gallery District. It was created by Brazilian Graffitti artist Gustavo Nénão in 2014 and still looks great!
The Victory Column of Enduring Freedom is a monument to the notion of victory in the war in Afghanistan. It is a reference to Emperor Trajan’s column in the forum in Rome which records his campaigns in Dacia, modern-day Romania, through relief sculpture scenes spiralling up the column. The form of the spiralled column has been re-used and reinterpreted through history as an icon of victory, perhaps most notably for the victory column of Napoleon’s Grand Armée in Place Vendôme, Paris, made from captured Russian and Austrian cannons.
Sign In Gallery
Razor wire and aggregate are materials commonly used for the perimeter security and surface imprint of enclaves of occupation in the War on Terror.
Photographed as Part of the Exhibit The Mountains of Majeed By Edmund Clark, On View at Flowers Gallery, Chelsea Gallery District NYC, Through May 6th, 2018.
As part of the gallery’s anniversary of 25 Years in business, David Zwirner on 20th Street is currently hosting an exhibit of works by a selection of the major artists it represents. Being a major Jeff Koons fan, my favorite piece in the show is Bluebird Planter: a piece from Koons‘ Banality series (2010 – 2016) created in the artists signature mirror-polished stainless steel, with a transparent color coating, and a space on top of the sculpture for live flowering plants.
The Banality series consists of a number of large sculptures inspired by porcelain Hummel Figurines. I left a random art fan in this shot so you can see how large the sculpture is.
This sculpture had fake plants in its planter but you can get the idea. It is extremely gorgeous. Breathtaking even.
This work — part of the exhibit Between the Clock and the Bed at The Met Breuer — is a precursor to the first version of Edvard Munch’s famous painting, The Scream (1893). In fact, the artist later referred to it as “the first Scream.” On January 22, 1892, while in Nice, where he painted Sick Mood at Sunset, Munch recorded in his diary and event that had taken place years earlier in Norway:
“I was walking along the road with two friends. The sun set. I felt a tinge of melancholy. Suddenly, the sky became a bloody red. I stopped, leaned against the railing, dead tired and looked at the flaming clouds that hung like blood and a sword over the blue-black fjord and city. My friends walked on. I stood there trembling with fright. And I felt a loud, unending scream piercing nature.”
The dramatic diagonal perspective of the railing emphasizes the figure’s isolation and despair.