Eleanor Wood’s hermetic Minimalism embraces a sense of infinitely plotted spatial extensions while instantiating an intricate, insistent, rigidly contained, eye-catching, hypnotic singularity.
After the exhaustively hagiographical 2003 Diane Arbus retrospective, Revelation, at SFMOMA, what more can there be to say or look at? Plenty, as this show of around 30 early works and outtakes.
Markus Linnebrink doesn’t compose in the conventional sense; his works are a kind of visual archeology: an exploratory process in which the artist is both creator and excavator.
Employing Cubism’s floating color planes and Abstract Expressionism’s turbulent paint and ambiguous ideographs/hieroglyphs, Henderson’s works generate their own force field.
Can Minimalism’s geometry, impenetrable surfaces and modular units be recast with feeling? Theodora Varnay Jones answers with an emphatic yes.
Richard Gilles’ photo aren’t just about our wrecked economy. They document the void that exists between cities, suburbs, mountains and farmland.
David Wetzl’s paintings attempt to make sense of the anarchy of human history. You may disagree with his positive forecast, but you can’t help but marvel at his inventiveness.
This show of “re-purposed” junk demonstrates how socially relevant art can spring from idiosyncratic, personal investigations and material invention.
Bob Brady works with the figure, but the figure hasn’t really his subject. Like a jazz instrumentalist who uses song structure for self-expression, Brady is all about stretching his materials.
With mixed-media light-boxes, Hattori comes to terms with war and memory. Essoe, using video, installation and still photography, addresses the existential conundrum of suburbia.
Peter Honig uses the conventions of commercial photography to subvert the consumer desires with a style applies Dadist and Surrealist sensibilities to set-up photography.
There’s plenty of mystery in Peter VandenBerge’s elongated, primitive faces; but their punch comes from a distinct brand of ‘60s-era, Duchamp-influenced absurdism.
The title of this show, curated by Aaron Petersen, suggests possession and certitude, but the works themselves traffic in mystery and ambiguity.
Many artists have stared at, painted and even feigned leaping into The Void. But few do so as energetically as Phil Amrhein.
These seductively posed apparitions drive us to question whether what we’re seeing. It is photography, painting or some new hybrid?
Employing a boggling array of shapes, textures and colors, Rex Ray’s collages resemble mash-ups of ’50-style home décor motifs, extraterrestrial floral fantasies and symbolist imagery.