Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010
Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010
Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010
Bineth Gallery
Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010
Bineth Gallery
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Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010 Bineth Gallery
Curator: Gabi Bineth Graphic design and production: Dafna Graif Photography: Avi Hay, Studio Halfi, Ben Herzog, Chris Carone.
Image processing: Studio Halfi Printing: Halfi Printing Solutions
English cover: Under the Railroad Track [pp. 42-43] Hebrew cover: 100th Street [p. 23] Measurements in English text are in inches, height before width. Measurements in Hebrew text are in centimeters, height before width. All works are oil paint on canvas unless stated otherwise.
Š All rights reserved to Bineth Gallery and the artist. Printed in Israel, 2010.
Bineth Gallery
15 Frishman St., Tel Aviv www.binethgallery.com Tel.: (03) 523-8910, fax: (03) 524-0853
! The Church Among the Trees (diptych), 2010, 60x48x2 x x =<;G<6 <8EA3 I4?80 388@?:3
Michael Kovner New York Paintings 2001-2010
The Street (4 parts), 2010, 40x30x4 123
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The Project in Winter, 2009, 48x60 121
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Preface Gabi Bineth
Michael Kovner's New York is not readily visible, and does not include the cityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s most famous icons. Kovner's New York is much more intimate: It is composed of homes, shops, windows and parks. It includes barges on the river and bridges. Neighborhood basketball courts and tennis courts. This is a very authentic New York, New York as residents might see their city, which is what makes it so very moving. This is a New York of movers and their vans, and red houses. New York of church steeples and chimneys. This is a city of simple people at the doorsteps of their houses, and of above-ground subway lines crisscrossing between buildings. And this is New York from the intimacy of the artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s studio, overlooking the city from a warm and protected space. This is New York of autumn, summer and light. New York of a whole decade. This exhibition, accompanied by this book, is the second one on Michael Kovner's work from New York. The first one was held at the Bineth Gallery in 2005, and together they encompass a decade of work in New York, work from a few months out of every year. Houses and buildings long have been present in Michael Kovner's work. Alongside his well-known works of deserts, mountains and valleys, he would give viewers a touch of the urban landscape. As early as 1981, at his exhibition Houses in Gaza, hosted at the Bineth Gallery, Kovner gave viewers dominant colors and clean, unassuming lines. In these last few years in New York, Kovner added to his works intense brushstrokes and squares of color, dominant features that coexist harmoniously with urban forms such as parks, greenery and bodies of water. Over the years, diptychs, triptychs and multiplepart works also became more prevalent in Kovner's work. This is almost necessary when creating works about New York, and helps integrate and connect the different parts of the work. New York in Kovner's work entices the viewer to seek out the city's genuine heirlooms. From a barge crossing the river to tenement housing and an intimate visit to the artist's studio, Kovner shows us the view from his window into the bustling world of this magnificent city, with its skyline and its red brick buildings amid the changing seasons, from scorching summer to the cold, gray winter.
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Cityscape and Landscape, Reconcilable or Irreconcilable? Michael Kovnerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Paintings Donald Kuspit
1 Adrian Stokes, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Invitation in Art,â&#x20AC;? The Critical Writings of Adrian Stokes (London: Thames & Hudson, 1978), III, 286
We tend to contemplate Nature rather more as a given statement than we do the
2
there is more projective identification. When the man-made, usually machine-
Ibid., 287
3
Edmond and Jules de Goncourt, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Painting at the Exposition of 1855,â&#x20AC;? The Art of All Nations 1850-73: The Emerging Role of Exhibitions and Critics, ed. Elizabeth Gilmore Holt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981), 136. In a famous passage, still relevant today, the Goncourt brothers write: â&#x20AC;&#x153;It is when nature is condemned to death, when industry dismembers it, when iron roads plow it, when it is violated from one pole to another, when the city invades the field, when industry pens man in, when, at last, man remakes the earth like a bed, that the human spirit hastens towards nature, looks at it as it never has before, sees this eternal mother for the first time, conquers her through study, surprises her, ravishes her, transports her and fixes her living and flagrante delicto on pages and canvases with an unequaled veracity. Will landscapes become a resurrection, the Easter of the eyes?â&#x20AC;?
!
works of man, as we communicate with both of them in pre-verbal fashion by means of projective identification. We project ourselves into both experiences, but in the case of the man-made thing with which we have increased complicity, made, object is uncouth, painfully removed from the image of wholeness, when it suggests fragmentation in the very glance that perceives it, the appropriate projective identification may tend to re-create what Bion has called â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;bizarre objectsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;â&#x20AC;Ś.[T]he major role of art is to rescue man-made objects from bizarredom on behalf of both the object and the self that have there combined, to make with a man-made object a re-integrated part-object [fragment] resonance and then a whole object that is self-sufficient, that shows itself independent of our projections as it receives them, repudiating their tendency to engulf it. Adrian Stokes, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Invitation in Artâ&#x20AC;? 1
We know that in Renoirâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s opinion the ugliness of buildings towards the end of the nineteenth century and the vulgarity of design in articles in common use were a far greater danger than wars. Adrian Stokes, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Invitation in Artâ&#x20AC;? 2
Cityscapes and landscapesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;Michael Kovner paints
dwellers can visit it in safety, in search of the health
both with equal vigor, and in equally great numbers.
they lost living in unhealthy, stressful cities. Indeed,
The difference between the city and the countryâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;the
the â&#x20AC;&#x153;therapeutic landscapeâ&#x20AC;? has been with us since
man-made and the naturally given (however cultivated
Edmond and Jules de Goncourt declared â&#x20AC;&#x153;landscapeâ&#x20AC;Ś
by man)â&#x20AC;&#x201D;is the contradictory core of Kovnerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s art. It
the victor in modern artâ&#x20AC;?â&#x20AC;&#x201D;already in 1855â&#x20AC;&#x201D;and
is a familiar difference, and an old difference, but it
wrote of city dwellers â&#x20AC;&#x153;running to warm themselves
has become extreme in modernity, where the city
in the rays of the sun outside the city, fleeing the stone
and the country seem more at odds than ever, even
prisons.â&#x20AC;?3
as they ingeniously convergeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;in urban parks, with
Are the urban buildings depicted by Kovner
their pseudo-country space, and national parks,
â&#x20AC;&#x153;stone prisons?â&#x20AC;? Yes and noâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;they are as closed and
where nature is divided and conquered so that urban
insular as prisons, but not as forbidding and ugly, for
The Big Building (9 parts), 2009 @<J?: ;4213 >88?03
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Kovner’s biophiliac attitude to life. What looks static and inanimate has been animated by his projection of his vitality—even joie de vivre—into it: the dull façade of the buildings becomes a screen on which he projects his moods, which never seem gloomy and despairing however sometimes subdued. Kovner’s
positive
figuratively—resists
the
outlook—literally militantly
and
indifferent
buildings: buildings that embody the indifference and negativity that the philosopher Theodor Adorno argued are a hallmark of modernity. For Adorno, their most consummate, memorable “statement” is Auschwitz. It was a deathworld rather than a lifeworld, a city in which death was mass produced by indifferent human machines, a space of destruction far from the garden of paradise that Kovner’s art turns the everyday world into. Kovner’s impressionisticexpressionistic rendering of nature—his aesthetic love affair with nature, whether in the obvious form of Israel’s Mediterranean landscape (Israel famously a desert that has been made to bloom, love of the Na'ama at Window, 2005, 80x54
land bringing it to life), or the less obvious form of
x >4;6 ;4= 3=A?
New York’s modern buildings (looking more dead than alive, inorganic rather than organic, so-called
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they are as radiant and intense with light and color
machines for living that are in fact death traps, mute
as Kovner’s nature, giving them a benign, even
and plain rather than expressively ornamented with
wholesome appearance without denying their off-
symbolic images of life like traditional buildings)—
putting, not to say alien, look. Beautified by Kovner’s
can be understood as a reaction formation, as the
art, the architecturally non-descript, not to say banal
psychoanalysts call it, against Auschwitz and the
urban buildings—vulgar in appearance and vulgar
hatred and negation of the Jews, more broadly the
because they are inhabited by vulgar, commonplace,
hatred and negation of life it represents. Whether
working class people (“vulgar” derives from the Latin
in the primary form of the holy land, or the
vulgus, meaning the general public)—seem to glow
secondary form of the profane city “naturalized”
with good health, however unhealthy they may be to
and “blessed” by art—in effect “rehabilitating” the
live in, all the more so because they are the slums of
people imprisoned in its buildings--and however
an outdated industrial society. In Kovner’s handling,
unconsciously, Kovner’s nature is a defensively
they are no longer eyesores, but aesthetic delights—
defiant response to anti-Semitism.
Cubist constructions in Impressionistic atmosphere
I am suggesting that Kovner’s landscapes and
and light, executed with a certain Expressionistic
cityscapes are haunted by the deathscape of Jewish
flair. Thus the pleasure principle triumphs over the
suffering—that his artistic “flight to nature” and
reality principle in Kovner’s art. What seems like
naturalization of the city (which is what Monet
dead reality has been resurrected by an infusion of
did with London by transforming it into a colorful
landscape, as though blind to the crowds that made
hope, the reality of suffering and the possibility of
it a center of mass society)—have as their hidden
salvation, underpinning Kovner’s art.
background the Jewish experience of suffering unto
I am suggesting that Kovner establishes a kind
death. Kovner’s ahistorical nature has all the more
of dialectic between society and nature, with art the
presence because it is informed by the absence of
middle-man—the aesthetic means of integrating
Jewish suffering, the “negative history” still alive
them, finding something of each in the other and
in the Jewish unconscious. An optimistic Jewish
transferring it to the other. The city is latently the
landscape—Israel’s flourishing nature—seems to
country and vice versa; Kovner suggests their
have replaced socially bred Jewish pessimism, but
subliminal relationship and interpenetration, which
it has moved to New York—once a largely Jewish
is what gives his art unconscious power. Thus
city—where it appears in the impersonal buildings,
nature takes on the attributes of the city, as Kovner’s
which remain faceless however personalized by
emphasis on the architecture of the landscape, and
Kovner’s art. Nature is used to modify society, but
the naturally changing light in the city, indicate. He
the buildings remain paradoxically anti-social.
is a detached observer of raw nature, as well as of
The strong impression nature makes on
nature domesticated by man into farmland, and
Kovner suppresses the strong impression Auschwitz
of the urban environment, with its fragments of
and what it symbolizes—the unrelenting and
nature—as in the pictures in which trees, with their
unprecedented barbarism and destructiveness of
limbs twisting as though they were expressionistic
modern society, as the historian Eric Hobsbawm
and tortured figures, stand in front of anonymous
and others have said—has made on the Jewish
buildings, undramatic modernist constructions of
psyche. The fact that Kovner repeatedly paints
fixed planes confronted and opposed by the hyperdramatic, barren, “suffering” trees—but he is also emotionally engaged with nature, inhospitable or
[T]he painter depicted landscape, and yet in doing so was not concerned with it
hospitable, inorganic or organic, and machine-made
but himself; it had become the pretext for human emotion, a symbol of human
buildings, whether apartment buildings or office
joy, simplicity, and piety. It had become art.
buildings.
…We know how ill we see things amongst which we live and that it is often
The dialectic of cityscape and landscape is
necessary for someone to come from a distance to tell us what surrounds us.
eloquently epitomized in Kovner’s paintings of
And so they had to remove things to a distance, that they might be able later to approach them with greater justice and calmly, with less familiarity, observing a reverend distance. For men only began to understand Nature when they no longer understood it; when they felt that it was the Other, indifferent towards men, without senses with which to apprehend us, then for the first time they stepped outside of Nature, alone, out of a lonely world. Rilke, “Concerning Landscape” 4
female nudes—the female body in an unadulterated state of nature, as it were, and as such a kind of landscape—in front of what is perhaps best called a buildingscape. The small nude reclines or sits in front of a large window, which is clearly a grid, looking at the large buildings beyond it. The intimate and the distant, the private and the public, the studio space and the larger space of the world, are brought together
4
Rainer Maria Rilke, “Concerning Landscape,” Selected Works (New York: New Directions, 1967), I (Prose), 3-4
the round, soft shape of Mount Tabor, where Jesus
in the same picture even as they remain distinct. The
supposedly made his famous “speech from the
nude, however much an exciting body, is a particular
mountain,” and as such a comforting breast; and
person, and the city, however much a social space,
the harsher Mount Gilboa, where Saul and Jonathan
generalizes indifference, but, to me, the most telling
killed themselves—they were mourned in “David’s
part of the picture is the grid of the window that
Elegy”—suggests the Jewish dialectic of loss and
mediates even as it divides them, suggesting they are
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in conflict. The grand grid of the studio window is
of society, while the grid of the studio window,
echoed in the even grander grids of the facades of
through which the outside world can be viewed,
the buildings visible through the studio window:
symbolizes the open system of art—a system in which
the ingenious relationship of the different levels of
there is feedback from the lifeworld, symbolized by
grid—the hierarchy of grids—spells out the conflict
the “natural” nude.
between society and nature, including human nature,
The row after row of anonymous windows in
that is the existential core of Kovner’s art. The conflict
the building’s facade suggests the anonymous lives
may be aesthetically resolved—society and nature
of the people who live in the apartments, lives as
are harmonized on the formal surface of Kovner’s
neatly and serially arranged and compartmentalized
art--but it remains conspicuously unresolved in the
as the apartments in which they live. They are in
imagery, particularly the buildingscape images, for
effect prison cells, and the people who live in them
me exemplary, all the more so because the studio
are prisoners of society. They suggest the conformity
nude, whatever else she might mean, is a surrogate
that society demands—which the nonconformity
for Kovner. She contemplates the urban scene, as
of the artist resists, even as he acknowledges and
he does—she represents the detached curiosity of
incorporates it in his art, as Kovner does in his
the studio perspective. Seen and filtering the world
obsessive attention to the indifferent facades of his
through the window of the studio is not the same as
buildings. It is worth noting that there is nothing to
seeing it from the street. However many memories
mark the boundaries of the apartments inside the
of street life inform Kovner’s cityscapes, suggesting
building on the windows that open to the outside.
that his work has a certain affinity with the New York
They repeat in an undifferentiated way suggesting
Ashcan School.
there is no difference between the apartments and
The grid is a deceptively simple structure—a
The look-alike
simple geometrical system of uniformly arranged
windows and bricks suggest look-alike lives, and
repetitive modules, each finite and self-contained
their homogeneous and inflexible arrangement
yet implicitly extending infinitely, suggesting multi-
suggests that there is no space for individuation—
dimensional, uncontainable space however one-
cognitive and emotional growth and flexibility—in
dimensional and self-contained themselves—but in
the apartments behind them. Kovner’s message is
Kovner’s hands it becomes dialectically complex.
that one can only grow by becoming a participant
The flat facade of the apartment building is a grid
observer of nature—even the microcosm of nature
of modular windows set in a larger grid of modular
that is the female body. It is a piece of Mother Earth,
bricks. The window modules are large, the brick
giving life and nourishment to art the way she gives
modules are small, but there are more of the latter
life and nourishment to nature. The mother’s body
than of the former, increasing the underlying tension
is the first body to which we are attached, the way
between them and making their difference emphatic.
Kovner is attached to the ravishing landscape of
However similar in structure, they are hierarchically
his motherland: the female model also symbolizes
at odds. The bricks are red, the windows colorless,
her when he is in “exile” in New York. She has the
adding to the tension between them. The windows
fullness of life that Kovner’s planar buildings lack:
reflect little or nothing of the world outside them; the
however imbued with life by his art—humanized by
building seems to be completely closed to the world,
the aesthetic meaning he gives them—they remain
even though the windows can be opened—but they
Potemkin facades covering a human void. Are they
aren’t. I suggest that the window and brick grids that
concentration camps in principle if not in fact?
form the façade symbolize the closed, stifling system
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the people who live inside them.
One last thing about the grid: it was a mechanism
which artists traditionally used to frame the world— perceptually conquering it by dividing it into modular fragments. Dürer’s famous print of a male artist “copying” a reclining female nude through the “lens” of a transparent grid composed of modular squares makes the point clearly. The grid is an instrument of mimesis. It is a way of systematically studying what seems unsystematically given. It is a means of finding coherence in what appears to be incoherent. Contained in a module every perceived detail of the object—be it a figure, a landscape, or an urban scene—becomes a hard fact. The grid is an instrument of positivistic observation: the object is analytically observed and systematically dissected. Its parts are “realized” in all their detailed particularity by being brought into sharp focus with the aid of the grid, in effect a microscope of modules. But Kovner’s modernist studio window grid tends to blur—“soften”—into an idealized whole the matter-of-fact details that the traditional grid isolated. The result is that his images finally seem more like inspired visions than perceptual studies. They have an aura of revelation, as though subtly transcending what they picture in the act of picturing it. They become uncanny, miraculous “realizations” of what is seen—spiritual epiphanies rather than descriptions of what is obvious to the patient eye, however descriptive they are. Perceptual differences are emotionally reconciled, suggesting that however much a careful observer of external reality he may be, Kovner is ultimately an aesthetic mystic.
Donald Kuspit is one of America’s most distinguished art critics. Winner of the prestigious Frank Jewett Mather Award for Distinction in Art Criticism (1983), given by the College Art Association, Professor Kuspit is a Contributing Editor at Artforum, Artnet Magazine, Sculpture, and Tema Celeste magazines, and the editor of Art Criticism. He has doctorates in philosophy (University of Frankfurt) and art history (University of Michigan), as well as degrees from Columbia University, Yale University, and Pennsylvania State University. He has also completed the course of study at the Psychoanalytic Institute of the New York. In 2005 he was the Robertson Fellow at the University of Glasgow. In 2008 he received the Tenth Annual Award for Excellence in the Arts from the Newington-Cropsey Foundation. He is Distinguished Professor of Art History and Philosophy at the State University of New York at Stony Brook, and has been the A. D. White Professor at Large at Cornell University (1991-97). He has received fellowships from the Ford Foundation, Fulbright Commission, National Endowment for the Arts, National Endowment for the Humanities, Guggenheim Foundation, and Asian Cultural Council, among other organizations. He has written numerous articles, exhibition reviews, and catalogue essays, and lectured at many universities and art schools. He is the editorial advisor for European Art 1900-50 and art criticism for the Encyclopedia Britannica (16th edition), and wrote the entry on Art Criticism for it. He is on the advisory boards of the Lucy Daniels Foundation, the Philoctetes Society, the Chautauqua Institution, and the Gabarron Foundation. He has also curated many exhibitions.
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x >4/73?8 E0 046G
Street in Chinatown, 2010, 48x60
112
x <8?0; I4?4;6 <A 24G4 I80
Pink House with White Windows, 2010, 43x54
110
x <42/3 I803
The Red House, 2010, 40x60
108
x x @<J?: <8?88?03 I4?80 9/;=
Angel Among the Buildings (4 parts), 2010, 30x40x4
106
105
x x x =<;G<K; >8;F4G0 54G;= 046G
Melrose Street in Brooklyn (triptych), 2009, 54x60 / 48x54 / 54x35
104
x G:4@3 ;AC= 4?8=42
Domino (the Sugar Factory), 2010, 60x72 x x =<;G<6 G3?0 3G8@ 103
Boat on the River (diptych), 2010, 36x48x2
#
102
101
@<J?: =<;G<6 >8;F4G04 86G5=3 G3?3 x x x x
The East River and Brooklyn (diptych + 6 parts), 2010, 60x48x2 / 12x9x6
x 3240/ IEF4 3?7F 3;83F 99
Small Community in Distress, 2010, 48x60
x @40474/4 >8;F4G00 046G
Street in Brooklyn and Bus, 2010, 48x60
98
x ;E4 >0; I80 24G4 I80
Pink House, White House and Shadow, 2010, 48x72
96
x 4;2/; 046G
Ludlow Street, 2010, 48x72 Q AE 73KO 95
[See p. 89]
#
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Biographical Notes
Personal
2001
“The Human Side,” David Yellin Academic College of Education, Jerusalem
2002
“Landscapes 1978-2002,” The Museum of Israeli Art, Ramat Gan (book)
Date of birth: 1948 Raised and educated on Kibbutz Ein Hachoresh, Israel Married + 2 Living and working in Jerusalem since 1975.
2002 “Seascapes,” Gallery on the Cliff, Netanya 2005
“New York Landscapes,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
Education
2006
1972-75 New York Studio School with Philip Guston, Jack Tworkow and Mercedes Mattar
“The Mountain and the Sea,” George Krevsky Gallery, San Francisco
2007
“Gilboa Tabor,” Museum of Art, Ein Harod
2007
“Wadi Tabor,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
2007
“New York Landscapes,” George Krevsky Gallery, San Francisco
Selected One-Man Exhibitions 1975
“Paintings from New York,” Artists House, Jerusalem
2009
1978
“Landscape Drawings: A Bird’s Eye View,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
“In the Presence of a Cliff,” Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Be'er Sheva (catalogue)
2010
1979
“Desert,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
“Observations. 30 Years of Observing and Painting Landscape,” Artist's House, Jerusalem (book of drawings)
1981
“Houses in Gaza,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv (catalogue)
2010
“New York Landscapes“, Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv (book)
1983
“Images” Paintings according to Lego,” Gordon Gallery, Tel Aviv (catalogue)
1985
“Meet an Israeli Artist,” Israel Museum, Jerusalem
1985
“Portraits,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
1988
“Landscapes,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
1990
“Jerusalem Scenes,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
1992
“A Girl in a Room,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
1995
Selected Group Exhibitions 1981
“Israeli Prints from the Burston Graphic Center,” The Israel Museum, Jerusalem (catalogue)
1981
“A Turning Point,” Twelve Israeli Artists, Tel Aviv Museum of Art, Tel Aviv (catalogue)
1983
“The Negev in Israeli Art,” Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Be'er Sheva (catalogue)
“End of 1995,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv (catalogue)
1987
“Towards a New Realism,” the Ashdot-Yaacov Museum, Kibbutz Ashdot-Yaacov (catalogue)
1996
“Eretz,” N.A.F.I. Gallery, New York
1988
1997
“Eretz,” Yale University, New Haven
“Fresh Paint,” the Younger Generation in Israeli Art, Tel Aviv Museum of Art, Tel Aviv (catalogue)
1998
“Eretz – Landscapes of Israel,” Ann Loeb Bronfman Gallery, Washington, DC, cosponsored by the Embassy of Israel for the 50th anniversary of the State of Israel
1991
1998
“Port,” Haifa Museum, Ashdod Museum (catalogue)
“Mountains Round About: Jerusalem in Israeli Printmaking from the Seventies and the Eighties,” exhibition sponsored by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Ministry of Education and Culture (catalogue), traveling exhibition abroad
1992
“Tribute to Ayala Zacks,” Israel Museum, Jerusalem
2000
“Orchards,” Artspace, Jerusalem
2000
“Haystacks,” Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv
90
x x =<;G<K; 7F 14GC3 AE
(pp. 92-94): The Project (triptych), 2009, 60x48x3
1994
1995
â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Printerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Imprint: Twenty Years of the Jerusalem Print Workshop,â&#x20AC;? The Israel Museum, Jerusalem (catalogue) â&#x20AC;&#x153;Autumn Gallery,â&#x20AC;? The Museum of Israeli Art, Ramat Gan
1996-7 â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Jewish Continuity,â&#x20AC;? Jewish Art Museum, New York 1997
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Landscapes,â&#x20AC;? The Museum of Israeli Art, Ramat Gan
1998
â&#x20AC;&#x153;50/50: Fifty Israeli Artists for Israelâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Fiftieth Anniversary,â&#x20AC;? Jewish Museum, San Francisco
2001
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Collection +,â&#x20AC;? The Israel Museum, Jerusalem
2003
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Marked Landscapes,â&#x20AC;? Ben Gurion University, Be'er Sheva
2004
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Our Landscapes,â&#x20AC;? University of Haifa, Haifa
2005
â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Continuous Mark: 40 years of the New York Studio School Part 2, 1972-1978,â&#x20AC;? New York
2009
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Matter of the Heart: A Selection from the David Azrieli Collection,â&#x20AC;? The Tel Aviv Museum of Art (book)
2009
â&#x20AC;&#x153;A Selection of Israeli Art, from the Gaby and Ami Brown Collection,â&#x20AC;? Museum of Art, Ein Harod (book)
2010
89
â&#x20AC;&#x153;New York Paintings 2001-2010â&#x20AC;?, Bineth Gallery, Tel Aviv (book)
Public Works Mural at Denmark High School, Jerusalem, oil on wood, 3.4 x 5 m., 1979 Mural at Israel Electric Corporation, Jerusalem, paint on ceramic tiles, 6 x 4 m., 1997 Mural at Beit Haoved, Haifa, paint on ceramic tiles, 2.5 x 20 m., 1998 Selected Collections Jewish Art Museum, New York Israel Museum, Jerusalem Tel Aviv Museum of Art, Tel Aviv Haifa Museum, Haifa The Open Museum, Tefen The Presidentâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Residence, Jerusalem 2003-2005 Salander Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Reilly Galleries, New York 2003-2010 George Krevsky Gallery, San Francisco Fellowships 1984
Awarded fellowship to study in New York by the American-Israeli Cultural Foundation
˘¢Ú ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ÔÎ˘Ó ˙‡ˆÂ‰· ¨®Ô„‚‡© ¯‰‰Â ˜ÓÚ‰ Ìȉ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Æ≤∞∞∑ È‡Ó „¯Á ÔÈÚ ¨¯˙‡ ÌÈÈÁ ¨ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È· ˙‡ˆÂ‰ ¨ÌÈÙÂ Ï˘ ÌÈÓÂ˘È¯ ¨ÌÈÓÂ˘È¯ ¯ÙÒ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Æ≤∞±∞ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È Æ≤∞±∞ ¨·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨≤∞±∞≠≤∞∞± ˜¯ÂÈ ÂÈ È¯ÂȈ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ
Æ≤∞∞≤ È‡Ó ¨Â¢Ú ͯΠ≤ ÔÂÈÏ‚ ¨˙¯ÙÒÏ ÔÂÁ¯È ÌÈÈÊ‡Ó ¨¯ÂÊÓ ¯È‡È ßÙ¯٠¨ı¯‡‰ ¨˙ÂÓ‡ ÈÓÂÒ¯Ù ˜ÓÁ˘ ÌÈ‚ÂÏ˘ ¨¢¯‡˘˘ ‰Ó ‰Ê¢ ¨¯Âˆ ÈÊÂÚ Æ≤∞∞≤ ËÒ‚‡ Deidre Stein Greben, ART NEWS, ¢Sea change,¢ January 2003. Sharon Mizota, ART NEWS, September 2006.
Interviews ˙ÂÂȇ¯
Gil Goldfine, Art – Jerusalem Post, ¢Gilboa and Tabor, poetry in color¨¢ February 9, 2007.
Ʊπ∏∞ È‡Ó ≤ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢¯·„Ó· ¯Â‡‰¢ ¨Ò˜ÂÙ ˙ȯ˘
Gil Goldfine¨ Asian Art News¨ ¢An Inseparable Bond¨¢ MarchØApril 2007.
¯·ÓËÙÒ ± ¨˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ¨ÂÏ˘ χ¯˘È ¨¢ÛÏÂÁ‰ Ï˘ ‰ÈÚ·‰ ˙·ÎÂ΢ ¨¯Ù˜ ÂÈÊ Æ±π∏∑
Æ≤∞∞∑ ÈÂÈ ≤∏≠≤± ¨≤¥≤ ÆÒÓ ÔÂÈÏÈ‚ TimeOut ¨¢‰ÁÂÈ ˙ÂÏ‚ÂÚÓ¢ ¯ÈÙÒ È‡È Æ≤∞∞∑ ËÒ‚‡ ±∞ ¨¥≥μ ÆÒÓ ÔÂÈÏ‚ ¨®·È¯ÚÓ ÔÂÓ˜ө ÔÓʉ ‰Ê ¨ÔÓȉ Ï·ÂÈ
Ʊππ∞ ¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ÛÒÂÓ ¨ÌÈÓÈ ∑ ¨¢Ú¯ ¯˜Â· ¢ ¨ÔÓÙ‰–¯Ï‚ȯ ‰Ï‡È¯‡
Æ≤∞∞π ËÒ‚‡ ≤¥ ¨®ÛÒÂÓ© ı¯‡‰ ¨¢Ì˙ÂÁÎ Û‰¢ ¨„ÏÙ˘¯È‰ χȯ‡
Ʊππ∞ ¨¯·„ ¨¢¯ÂÂÈÚ‰ ϯ‚‰¢ ¨˜Á˘–ÔȘÙÈÏ ÈÏË
¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ÔÈ· ‰ÁÈ˘Â ßȇ߷ ÌÈÏÙÂ˜Ó ÌÈÓÂ˘È¯¢ ¨„ÏÙ˘¯È‰ χȯ‡ ¯ÙÒ¢ Æ≤∞±∞ ¨¢Û‰ χ ˙ÏÙ ≠ Á‡¯Ë ≠ ¯ÂÙȈ¢ ÔÓÁÏ ‰˜È·ˆ ÏÒى ƢÌÈÙÂ Ï˘ ÌÈÓÂ˘È¯
Ʊππ∞ ¯·ÓËÙÒ ≤∂ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨¢ÂÓˆÚ ˙‡Â ÌÈÈÁ‰ ˙‡ ÌÈÏÏÂÊ¢ ¨ÌÂÏ· ‰Ïȉ Ʊππ≥ È‡Ó ∑ ¨¯ÈÚ‰ ÏÎ ¨¢‡·‡ Ï˘ Ô·‰¢ ¨Â˜ÒÂÓ Ï‡‚È Æ≤∞∞∞ È‡Ó ≤∂ ¨ı¯‡‰ ÛÒÂÓ ¨¢ÈÏ˘ χÎÈÓ¢ ¨È¯ÂÏ ‰·È·‡
Media ‰È„Ó „¯˘Ó ¨ÌÈ„ÏÈ ˙ÂÈÎÂ˙Ï Û‚‡‰ ¨C.D ≠ ¢ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ‡˘Â ÏÚ ÌȯÂȈ¢ Æ˙·¯˙‰Â ÍÂÈÁ‰
Æ≤∞±∞ Ïȯه· ±≥ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢‚‚ڂ ÈÙ¢ ¨‡¯ÈÙ˘ ˙ȯ˘ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ˙‡ ÔÈȇ¯Ó ÔÓÁÏ ‰˜È·ˆ ¨¢Û‰ ÍÂ˙· ˙‡ˆÓ‰ ˘Ù‰¢ Æ≤∞±∞ ÈÏÂÈ≠ÈÂÈ ¨˙¯Á‡ ı¯‡ Donald Kuspit, New York Paintings 2001-2010 (book), “Cityscape and Landscape, Reconcilable or Irreconcilable? Michael Kovner’s Paintings”, December 2010
Æ®Á¢ËÓ© ˙ÈÎÂÈÁ ‰È‚ÂÏÂÎËÏ ÊίӉ ¨C.D ≠ ¢‰Î¯Ú˙· ÌÈ¯È˘¢ Ʊπ∏≥ ¨˙„ÏÈ· ÌÈ·ÈËÂÓÓ ÌÈÚÙ˘ÂÓ‰ ÌȯÂȈ ‡˘Â· ¢˘„Á ·¯Ú¢
Books ÌȯÙÒ
Ʊπ∏∏ ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ϙ ¨ß˜„ ¥μ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ÌÚ ÔÂȇ¯ ≠ ¢È·‡ ˙È·¢
ƘƄ ¨‰¯ÈˆÈ ˙¢ ±∞∞ ¨˙Èχ¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡· Û ȯÂȈ ¨Ï‡¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡· ÌÈÙ Ʊπ∏¥ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ó¢Ú· ¯Â‡Ï ‰‡ˆÂ‰ ¨Ë¯‡·Â‡¯‚
Ʊππ≥ È‡Ó ±¥ ¨Û· ¯ÂȈ ≠ ¢Ï‡¯˘È ·ÂË ¯˜Â·¢ Ʊππ∂ ¯‡Â¯·Ù ¥ ¨ßπμ È‰Ï˘ ≠ ¢Ï‡¯˘È ·ÂË ¯˜Â·¢ Ʊππ∑ È‡Ó ≤∞ ¨ÔÓ‡ ¯Î‰ ¨¢Jerusalem On Line¢ ÍÂÈÁ‰ „¯˘Ó ¨ÌÈ„ÏÈ ˙ÂÈÎÂ˙Ï Û‚‡‰ ¨C.D ≠ ¢˙ÂӇ ‰¯È˘ ÔÈ· ÁÈ˘–„¢ Ʊππ∏ ¯‡ÂÈ ≤∂ ¨˙·¯˙‰Â
¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÒÙ„‰‰ ˙„Ò ¨‰Ó‡ÂÙ ≠ ¯·Â˜ ‡·‡ ¨ÌÈËȯÁ˙ ≠ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Æ±π∏∏ Ʊππμ ¨±ππμ≠±π∏μ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ¨Ô‰Î–Ô‚Ò Ï‡ÎÈÓ
Æ≤∞∞∞ ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ϙ ¨ß‡ ˙˘¯ ¨¯ˆ ‰„¯Â ÌÚ ‰ÁÈ˘ ≠ ¢·¯Ú „Ú ¯˜Â·Ó¢
The Jewish Spirit – A Celebration in Stories & Art, edited by Ellen Frankel, published by Stewart, Tabori & Chang, New York 1997, pp. 122, 127.
Ê¢ÙÏ˙ ÔÂÚ„‚ ¨¯·Á ßÙ¯٠¨ıȷ˜ȷ¯ ¨¯·Â˜ ∫ÌÈÓ‡ ˘‚ÙÓ ¢Ô¯ˇÈ˙ ‰Ù˜¢ Æ≤∞∞± ¨≥≥ ıÂ¯Ú ¨ÏÓÒ ÌÚ ÌÚ
¨≤∞∞∞ ¨‰ÁÂ˙Ù‰ ‰ËÈÒ¯·È‡‰ ¨ÈÏÏÎ ‡Â·Ó ˙ÂÓ‡‰ ˙„ÏÂ˙ ¨È¯Â˘ÈÓ ˜Èχ Æ≤∞∑≠±∏≥ ßÓÚ
¨± ıÂ¯Ú ¨È˘È˘ ÔÓÂÈ ¨¯·Â¯‚ È„¯Ù Ï˘ Â˙·˙Î ¨¢‰·ÈÁ Ï˘ Ìȇ˙¢ Æ≤∞∞≤ Ïȯه ±π
Æ≤∞∞∞ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÒÙ„‰‰ ˙„Ò ¨ÏÓ ‡˘Â· ÌÈ¯È˘ ´ ÌÈËȯÁ˙ ¯ÙÒ ¨ÏÓ
Æ≤∞∞≤ Ïȯه ≤∏ ¨ß‡ ˙˘¯ ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ϙ ¨ÔÓÏ ‰Ò„‰ ˙Èȇ¯Ó ¨ÔÂȇ¯
¨Ó¢Ú· ¯Â‡Ï ‰‡ˆÂ‰ ˯‡·Â‡¯‚ ƘƄ ¨ÏÓ Ï˘ ˙‡˜ÂÈ„ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Æ≤∞∞∞ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È
¨È˙Ïȉ˜ π ıÂ¯Ú ¨ı¯Ëχ ÈÓÚ Ï˘ ‰˙·˙Î ¨¢ÚÒÓ· ÔÓ‡ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ¢ Æ≤∞∞≤ ȇÓ≠Ïȯه
˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô‚–˙Ó¯ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨‰·È˘ÙÒ¯˯ ≠ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ¨ÔÈÈÙ„Ï‚ ÏÈ‚ Æ≤∞∞≤ ¨˙Èχ¯˘È 88
Selected Bibliography ˙¯Á· ‰ÈÙ¯‚ÂÈÏ·È·
Ʊπ∏π ¯·ÓËÙÒ ≤≤ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢Âʉ ˙ÈÙ‰ ˙ÂÈ˘Ù‰¢ ¨¯ÈÓ˙ ÈÏË Gil Goldfine, ¢Two sides of Jerusalem,¢ Jerusalem Post, 2 March 1990. Gil Goldfine, ¢"Group love,¢ Jerusalem Post, 1 June 1990.
Ʊππ≤ ÈÂÈ ≤∂ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢¯È„ ÔÊ ≠ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ¢ ¨¯Â˘¯È„ È˙¯ Gil Goldfine, ¢Mirror, mirror on the flock,¢ Jerusalem Post, 3 July 1992.
Ʊππ≤ ÈÏÂÈ ∂ ¨ÂÈ„ÂËÒ ¨¢˙ÂÓ‡‰ Á¯ Է‰ ¨·‡‰¢ ¨¯Â‡Ó ÌÈÈÁ Ʊππ≤ ÈÏÂÈ ±≤ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢˙È˘Â‡‰ ˙ÂÓ„‰ χ ¯ÊÂÁ¢ ¨¯ÈÓ˙ ÈÏË Angela Levin, ¢Cathedrals of the 20th century,¢ Jerusalem Post, 13 October 1995.
ÆÌ˙ÂÁ ¨¢ÌȯÂÒ‡ ÌÈÓ Ï‡ ¯˘˜¢ ¨¯Â‡Ó ÌÈÈÁ Ʊππ∂ ¯‡ÂÈ ≤∂ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨¢ÈÙÂÈÏ È„ÈÓ˙ ·Ú¯¢ ¨ÈχگÊÈ ÌÈ¯Ó ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢±π∏μ≠±π∑μ ÌȯÂȈ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ≠ ÌÈ‚ÂÏ˘¢ ¨¯Âˆ ÈÊÂÚ Æ±ππ∂ ¯‡Â¯·Ù ≤≥ Julia Dahl, New Haven Advocate, 12 June 1997. Aviva Kampner, ¢Coloring Israel in her golden year,¢ Washington Jewish Week, 9 April 1998.
Articles and Reviews ˙¯˜ȷ ÌÈ¯Ó‡Ó Æ±π∑∂ ¯‡ÂÈ π ¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ¨¢ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È·· ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ¢ ¨ÏË ÌÈ¯Ó Æ±π∑∂ ¯‡ÂÈ π ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È·· ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ¢ ¨‰ÂÓψ χ‚È Meir Ronen, Jerusalem Post, 9 January 1976.
Ʊπ∑∂ ¯‡ÂÈ ±μ ¨¯Ó˘Ó‰ ÏÚ ¨Æ¯Æ‡ Ʊπ∑∂ ¯‡ÂÈ ±∂ ¨¯·„ ¨¢˘‡Â‚ „ˆ· ÔÂ˙Ó¢ ¨¯Ò˜ÏÙ ‰ˆÈ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ∫ÌÈÓ‡ È˘ ‚ÈˆÓ ‰˜Ïˆ Ô„ ¨¯Â˜È· ÒÈ˯΢ ¨‰˜Ïˆ Ô„ Æ∂±≠μ∏ ßÓÚ ¨±π∑∏ ¨±∑ ˙¯·ÂÁ ¨ÏÂÒÈÙ ¯ÂȈ ¨¢È˜ÒÂÏ ÌÈÈÁ Ʊπ∑π ¯‡ÂÈ μ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢ÒÈË‡Ó Ï˘ ÂÁ¯¢ ¨Ï‚‡ ÏÁ¯ Ʊπ∏∞ È‡Ó π ¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ¨¢‰ÏÚÓÏÓ ¯·„Ó‰¢ ¨Í¯· Ì„‡ Gil Goldfine, ¢Israeli Situation,¢ Jerusalem Post, 23 May 1980.
Ʊπ∏± ¯·Â˘‡ ≥∞ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ ÌÈ˙·‰¢ ¨Ï‚‡ ÏÁ¯ Ʊπ∏± ¯·Ó·Â ¨¯·„ ¨¢˙ÈχËȯ‡ Ú·ˆ ˙ÊËÒ˜‡¢ ¨Ë¯ÂÙÂÙ¯ ‰ÈÏË Æ±π∏± ¯·Ó·Â ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢„ÂÎÏÓ Â‡ ˙¯Á‡ Á¯¢ ¨Ï‡˘–Ô· ‰˘Ó Ʊπ∏± ¯·Ó·Â ±≥ ¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ¨¢˜˙ÂÓ ¯ÂȈ¢ ¨Í¯· Ì„‡
Angela Levin, Jerusalem Post, 24 July 1998.
Ʊπ∏± ¯·Ó·Â ±≥ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢¯˙ÂÓ‰ Ï·‚ ÏÚ¢ ¨Í¯Â·Ó ÌÈÒÈ
Ʊππ∏ ÈÏÂÈ ≤∂ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨˙·¯˙ ¨¢ıÏÓÂÓ ¨¯·Â˜Â ¯‚¯Â·¯ ¨ÏÓ¢ ¨Í¯· Ì„‡
Gil Goldfine, ¢Of time and place,¢ Jerusalem Post, 13 November 1981.
Æ≤∞∞∞ È‡Ó μ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨˙¯ÙÒ ¨¢‰˙È·‰¢ ¨ÔÂÓ„‡ ‰ÓÏ˙
Ʊπ∏± ¯·Ó·Â ≤∞ ¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ¨¢Á¯‰ ˙·˘Â ԇϢ ¨‡Ó„˜–¯· χÂÓÚ
Æ≤∞∞∞ È‡Ó μ ¨¯ÈÚ‰ ÏÎ ¨¢ÔÂÏÈÒ ÒÂËÓ¢ ¨ÔÈÈˢ¯Â· ¯Â¯„
Ʊπ∏± ¯·Ó·Â ≥∞ ¨¯ÈÚ‰ ¨¢‰ÊÚ Ï˘ „ÏÈÒÈ„‰¢ ¨˙·Ë ÌÂÁ
Æ≤∞∞∞ È‡Ó ±π ¨¯ÈÚ‰ ÏÎ ¯·ÎÚ ¨¢˙¯‚ÒÓ·¢ ¨Ù¯ „„
Ʊπ∏≥ Ïȯه ≤≤ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢‰ÈÏ˘‡ ȯˆÂÈÎ ÌÈÏψ¢ ¨Ï‚‡ ÏÁ¯
Æ≤∞∞± ¯·Ó·Â ±∂ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨¯ÈÚ‰ ÏÎ ¯·ÎÚ ¨¢˙¯‚ÒÓ·¢ ¨‰ÒÈÂÒ Ë¯·Ï‡
Gil Goldfine, ¢Story versus art,¢ Jerusalem Post, 22 April 1983.
Le Monde Diplomatique, German Edition, Berlin, January 2002.
Ʊπ∏≥ Ïȯه ≤∑ ¨˙È˘‡¯ ˙¯˙ÂÎ ¨¢‰ÓÓ„ Ï˘ Ô„Ú Ô‚¢ ¨Ô¯Â‡–˙· ‰ÈÁ˙
Æ≤∞∞≤ ¯‡Â¯·Ù ± ¨·È¯ÚÓ È˘È˘ ¨Í¯· Ì„‡
Ʊπ∏μ ¯·Ó·Â ¨·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨¢ËÂ˘Ù ¯ÂÙÈÒ¢ ¨ÔÂ˙È‚ „„
Æ≤∞∞≤ ¯‡Â¯·Ù ≤±¨¯ÈÚ‰ ¨˙ÂÓ‡ ¨¢˙ÂÈÙȈ‰ τ‚΢ ¨¯Â˘¯È„ È˙¯
Ʊπ∏μ ¯·Ó·Â ≤± ¨˙¢„Á ¨¢ÈÓÈËȇ ÈΉ ·Â¯˜ ÈΉ¢ ¨Ôȷ¯ È˙¯
Æ≤∞∞≤ ¯‡Â¯·Ù ≤∂ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÌÏÚ‰ Û‰ „ÂÒ¢ ¨Ôӯς ‰„
Gil Goldfine, ¢Kovner’s women,¢ Jerusalem Post, 29 November 1985.
¨˙¯Á‡ ˙ÂÚÈ„È ¨˙ÂÏÈÏ ∑ ¨¢‡·‡ Ï˘ Ô·‰¢ ¨ÔÓÙ‰ ¯Ï‚ȯ ‰Ï‡È¯‡ Æ≤∞∞≤ ı¯Ó ∏
Ʊπ∏∑ ÈÂÈ ±≤ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢Ï·Ϸ‰ ˙‚·Â ˙·ÂÓ‰ ˙ÂÎÊ·¢ ¨¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ
Æ≤∞∞≤ ı¯Ó ≤∏ ¨ÈËÒ ¨˙ÂίÚ˙ ˙¯Â˜È·
Gil Goldfine, ¢Painter’s painter,¢ Jerusalem Post, March 1988.
¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨ÌȯÙÒ ˙¯ÙÒ ¨¢˙ÂÈÁΉ ˙·ÈÒ· ‰·‰‡¢ ¨Ô‚Èχ ‰ÓÏ˙ Æ≤∞∞≤ ı¯Ó ≤π
Ʊπ∏∏ ı¯Ó ¥ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨¢Ï˘ÓÎ ÌÈÙ¢ ¨Ô‰Î–Ô‚Ò Ï‡ÎÈÓ
¨Ô¢‡¯ ¯Â˜Ó ¨˙·¯˙ ¨¢Â˙‡Ó ¯˘˘ ÌÈ·Á¯ÓÏ ‰¯ÊÁ¢ ¨‡È¯ÂÏ ÈÙȈ Æ≤∞∞≤ Ïȯه ≤∂
Ʊπ∏∏ ı¯Ó ≤μ ¨·È¯ÚÓ ¨¢ÈÓÏ˘Â¯È È‡¢ ¨È¯Â˘ÈÓ ˜Èχ
Æ≤∞∞≤ È‡Ó ¨˙¯Á‡ ı¯‡ ÔÈÊ‚Ó ¨¢Ì˜Ӊ ˙Ú„Ï ÔÓʉ ˙Ú„ ÔÈ·¢ ¨˙¯ÙÚ ÔÂÚ„‚
Ʊπ∏∏ ı¯Ó ¨·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨¢¯˙ÂÈ ˙ÂÙ¢Á¢ ¨ÔÂ˙È‚ „„
Ʊπ∏∏ ı¯Ó ±∏ ¨Ì˙ÂÁ ¨¢˘Ù‰ ÈÙ¢ ¨¯Â‡Ó ÌÈÈÁ
Ʊπ∏π ¯·ÓËÙÒ ¨ı¯‡‰ ¨¢Û‰ ̄‡‰¢ ¨¯ÈϘ ‰Ï‡ Angela Levine, ¢Elegic Landscape,¢ Jerusalem Post, September 1989.
87
¨ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È· ¨¢ÂÈ˘ÎÚ Ï‡¯˘È· ÌÂ˘È¯ ≠ ÌÈÓ˘¯¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È
≤∞∞±
‰È¯Ï‚‰ ¨Ï‡¯˘È· ˙È¢ÎÚ ˙ÂÓ‡· ¢ÌÈÓÂÒÓ ÌÈÙ¢ ¨·‚· ÔÂȯ‚–Ô· ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ ¨Ô¯· ̉¯·‡ ˘¢Ú ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ®‚ÂÏ˘© Ú·˘–¯‡·
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≤∞∞¥
·È·‡–Ï˙ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨ÈχȯÊÚ „„ ÛÒÂ‡Ó ¨¢·Ï·˘ Ìȯ·„¢ ®¯ÙÒ© ·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨˙ÂÓ‡Ï
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¨¢Ô‡¯· ÈÓÚ ȷ‚ ÛÒÂ‡Ó ∫˙Èχ¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡ ¯Á·Ó¢ ®¯ÙÒ© „¯Á ÔÈÚ ¨¯˙‡ ÌÈÈÁ ˘¢Ú ˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô΢Ó
≤∞∞π
˙Âȯ·Ȉ ˙Â„Â·Ú ¨ıÚ ÏÚ ÔÓ˘ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨˜¯Ó„ ¯ÙÒ ˙È· ≠ ¯È˜ ¯ÂȈ ±π∑π ¨ßÓ ≥Æ¥∞ x μ ÏÚ ¯ÂȈ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÏÓ˘Á‰ ˙¯·Á ≠ È˙ÂÓ‡ ¯È˜ ±ππ∑ ¨ßÓ ∂ x ¥ ¨‰˜ÈÓ¯˜ ÈÁȯ‡ ÈÁȯ‡ ÏÚ ¯ÂȈ ¨‰ÙÈÁ ¨„·ÂÚ‰ ˙È· ≠ È˙ÂÓ‡ ¯È˜ ±ππ∏ ¨ßÓ ≤Æμ x ≤∞ ¨‰˜ÈÓ¯˜ ÌȯÁ· ÌÈÙÒ‡ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ¨˙È„Â‰È ˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ‰ ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ·È·‡–Ï˙ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ‰ÙÈÁ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ÔÙ˙ ¨ÁÂ˙Ù‰ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ‰ ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨‡È˘‰ ˙È· ÛÒ‡ Salander O’Reilly–· ÂÈ˙ÂÂÓ˙ ‚ÈˆÓ ≤∞∞μ≠≤∞∞≥ Galleries, New York ,George Krevsky Gallery–· ÂÈ˙ÂÂÓ˙ ‚ÈˆÓ ≤∞±∞≠≤∞∞≥ San Francisco
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≤∞∞π
¨Û· ¯ÂȈ ˙·˙‰ Ï˘ ‰˘ ÌÈ˘ÂÏ˘ ≠ ¢˙ÂÈÙˆ˙¢ ®¢ÌÈÙÂ Ï˘ ÌÈÓÂ˘È¯¢ ∫¯ÙÒ© ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È·
≤∞±∞
®¯ÙÒ© ·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢˜¯ÂÈ ÂÈ ÈÙ¢
≤∞±∞
˙¯Á· ˙ÂÈ˙ˆÂ·˜ ˙ÂίÚ˙
85
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±π∏±
·È·‡–Ï˙ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨ÌÈχ¯˘È ÌÈÓ‡ ±≤ ¨¢˙¯Á‡ Á¯¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ˙ÂÓ‡Ï
±π∏±
¨·‚· ÔÂȯ‚–Ô· ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ ¨¢Ï‡¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡· ·‚‰¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© Ú·˘–¯‡·
±π∏≥
˙„˘‡ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨ÌÚÏ ˙ÂÓ‡ ¨¢˘„Á ÌÊÈχȯ ˙‡¯˜Ï¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ·˜ÚÈ ˙„˘‡ ı·Ș ¨·˜ÚÈ
±π∏∑
Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨˙Èχ¯˘È‰ ˙ÂÓ‡· ¯ÈÚˆ‰ ¯Â„‰ ¨¢È¯Ë Ú·ˆ¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨˙ÂÓ‡Ï ·È·‡–Ï˙
±π∏∏
˙Â˘Ó Èχ¯˘È‰ ÒÙ„‰· ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨¢‰Ï ·È·Ò Ìȯ‰¢ ˙ÂÒÁ· Ï¢ÂÁ· ˙„ÈÈ ‰Î¯Ú˙ ¨ÌÈÂÓ˘‰Â ÌÈÚ·˘‰ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ˙·¯˙‰Â ÍÂÈÁ‰ „¯˘Ó ıÂÁ‰ „¯˘Ó
±ππ±
ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢‰ÏÈ‡Ï ˙¯·‚¢
±ππ≤
¨ÒÙ„‰‰ ˙„ÒÏ ‰˘ Ìȯ˘Ú ¨¢ÒÙ„‰ Ì˙ÂÁ¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘© ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨˙Èχ¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô‚–˙Ó¯ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢ÂÈ˙Ò‰ ÔÂÏÒ¢ Ô‚–˙Ó¯
≤ ´ È¢ ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È· ¯¯Â‚˙Ó ±π∑μ–Ó ‰Ï΢‰ ¨ÔÂËÒ‚ ÙÈÏÈÙ ˙‡¯Â‰· ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ· ¯ÂȈ È„ÂÓÈÏ ±π∑μ≠±π∑≤ ¯Ë‡Ó Ò„Ò¯Ó ·Â˜¯ÂË ˜ßÊ ˙¯Á· „ÈÁÈ ˙ÂίÚ˙ ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÌÈÓ‡‰ ˙È· ¨¢˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈÓ ÌȯÂȈ¢
±π∑μ
¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢¯ÂÙȈ‰ Ë·ÓÓ ÌÈÙ ÈÓÂ˘È¯¢ ·È·‡–Ï˙
±π∑∏
·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢¯·„Ó¢
±π∑π
®‚ÂÏ˘© ·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢‰ÊÚ· ÌÈ˙·¢
±π∏±
·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨Ô„¯Â‚ ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢Â‚Ï ÈÙ–ÏÚ ÌȯÂȈ ¨ÌÈÓψ¢ ®‚ÂÏ˘©
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Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¯Ú‰ Û‚‡ ¨¢Èχ¯˘È ÔÓ‡ ÌÚ ˘‚ÙÓ¢ ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ï‡¯˘È
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·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÌÈ˯˯ÂÙ¢
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·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÌÈÙ¢
±π∏∏
·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ˙ÂÂÓ˙¢
±ππ∞
·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÂÈ„ÂËÒ· ‰¯Ú¢
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®‚ÂÏ˘© ·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ßπμ È‰Ï˘¢
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Ô·Èȉ–ÂÈ ¨ÏÈÈ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ ¨¢ı¯‡¢
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¨ÔÓÙ¯· ·ÂÏ Ô‡ ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢Ï‡¯˘È–ı¯‡ ÈÙ ≠ ı¯‡¢ Ï·ÂÈ Ï‚¯Ï χ¯˘È ˙¯ȯ‚˘ ˙ÂÒÁ· ¨ÔÂË‚È˘Â χ¯˘È ˙È„ÓÏ
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®‚ÂÏ˘© „„˘‡ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨‰ÙÈÁ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢ÏÓ¢
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ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨ÒÈÈÙÒ˯‡ ¨¢ÌÈÒ„¯Ù¢
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·È·‡–Ï˙ ¨ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨¢ÌȯȈÁ¢
≤∞∞∞
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Ô‚–˙Ó¯ ¨˙Èχ¯˘È ˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô‚–˙Ó¯ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢ÌÈÙ¢
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Ï·ÂÈ Ï‚¯Ï ÌÈχ¯˘È ÌÈÓ‡ ÌÈ˘ÈÓÁ ≠ ¢μ∞Øμ∞¢ ˜ÒÈÒ¯Ù–ÔÒ ¨È„‰ȉ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ‰ ¨Ï‡¯˘È ˙È„ÓÏ
±ππ∏
˙ÂÓ‡Ï Ô‚–˙Ó¯ Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢≤∞∞≤≠±π∑∏ ÌÈÙ¢ ®¯ÙÒ© Ô‚ ˙Ó¯ ¨˙Èχ¯˘È
≤∞∞≤
ÌÈÏ˘Â¯È ¨Ï‡¯˘È Ô‡ÈÊÂÓ ¨¢´ ÛÒ‡¢
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84
83
x x x =<;G<K; /E4= >8/
Dead End (triptych), 2003, 80x54 / 83x54 / 80x54
82
K<<C ?E B8KG<E x M8I<JD KGD =8MA @<A8L<K 81
Sketches, 2010, from sketchbook, 10x8, pencil on paper
80
79
K<<C ?E B8KG<E x M8I<JD KGD =8MA @<A8L<K
Sketches, 2006-9, from sketchbook, 12x10, pencil on paper
78
?3KL< <;KG FD83 x >=/34 >4;63 77
Window and Artist, 2009, 54x80, Private Collection (Israel)
x M8I<JD KGD =8MA @8L<K
Sketch, 2009, from sketchbook, 12x10
76
x 8/F4G= <4;6 75
Moroccan Dream, 2003, 52x60
JK8<+8<C B<8? @3<?<88 B8KL FD83 x x x =<;G<K; I0:4H 12/?
Nadege Lying Down (triptych), 2008, 36x46 / 36x54 / 36x30, Sharon and William Levin Collection (New York)
74
72
x 305A ;24=3 71
The Model Went Away, 2005-6, 55x65
x <42/ ;8A=0 12/?
Nadege in a Red Coat, 2008, 58x40
70
K<<C ?E B8KG<E x @8L<K 69
Sketch, 2005, 9x12, pencil on paper
JK8<+8<C <;KG FD83 x 368G50 >4;6
Window at Dawn, 2001, 48x60, Private Collection (New York)
68
x 37;A0 388H8;H3 67
Threesome in a Blackout, 2003, 60x72
JK8<+8<C 7< 5C3G ;K48K8 <CG;D FD83 x x =<;G<K; 6G5=)>4CE GH13 ;A= 3/G=
III-I
View from the Bridge â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Northeast (triptych), 2010, 60x48x3 Stephanie and Robert Pangia Collection (New York)
x x =<;G<K; >4CE GH13 ;A= 3/G= VI-IV
View from the Bridge â&#x20AC;&#x201C; North (triptych), 2010, 60x48x3
66
65
VI
64
V
63
IV
62
III
61
II
60
I
B8;DC<KG B<;D6?G ?J<A <K8? FD83 x x =<;G<6 G E?/;0 >88?0 59
Blanchard Building (diptych), 2003, 60x48x2, Lori and Michael Feldstein Collection (Princeton)
58
B8;DC<KG B<;D6?G ?J<A8 <K8? FD83 x D8EA4 ;46:3 >88?03
Blue Building and Potted Plant, 2007, 60x48, Lori and Michael Feldstein Collection (Princeton) K<<C ?E B8KG<E x @8L<K
Sketch, 2007, 12x4, pencil on paper ?3KL< H<?8J 6868 <AEC FD83 x @8?73 IGA?
Tennis Player, 2003, 66x54, Naomi and David Kolitz Collection (Israel)
56
?3KL< <;KG FD83 x 8:4I0H <8=H3 55
The Sky in Me, 2005-6, 72x60, Private Collection (Israel)
x x @<J?: 6:3 I?6I
Power Station (4 parts), 2002, 44x54x4 x <42/ P.S. 1 P.S. 1 (Red), 2003, 50x60
54
8JD<DCKG BD <;KG FD83 x >38?80H ;E34 I484=2
Figures and Shadow Between Them, 2006, 54x66, Private Collection (San Francisco) x x =<;G<6 734; D8F
Hot Summer (diptych), 2003-4, 54x44x2 8JD<DCKG BD <;KG FD83 x 48;A=H 3=4 37=;H <;4A3 53
Dowstairs Upstairs, 2006, 68x55, Private Collection (San Francisco)
52
x 8@; E0 3=42/ I8/H= 51
Red Truck in Chelsea, 2006-7, 60x66
8JD<DCKG BD <;KG FD83 x FG48)48? G8A3 ;H >4/854=3
The Museum of the City of New York, 2006, 63x66, Private Collection (San Francisco) x >2G/1 G44F@ >4@82=
Madison Square Garden, 2006, 51x55 x I8/H=4 >2G/1 G44F@ >4@82=
Madison Square Garden and Truck, 2006, 52x67
50
x x =<;G<6 388@?:4 >2G/1 G44F@ >4@82=
Madison Square Garden and Church (diptych), 2006, 54x30 / 54x44 K<<C ?E B8KG<E x @8L<K 49
Sketch, 2005, 9x12, pencil on paper
x <8=3 ;21=
Water Tower, 2005, 80x54 x 0GA= 046G
West 26th Street, 2006, 66x47
48
x </ 2?/ </ I864;E 47
Bowl of m&m's, 2005, 60x48
46
x x x =<;G<K; 940=3 45
The Labyrinth (triptych), 2006, 54x48 / 54x60 / 54x48
B8;DC<KG B<;D6?G <K8?8 ?J<A FD83 x I0:G3 8@C; I6I=
Under the Railroad Tracks, 2007, 48x60, Lori and Michael Feldstein Collection (Princeton)
#
42
x 878@ 2?;8/ 1?4;
Long Island City, 2002, 54x66 x 878@ 2?;8/ 1?4;0 3G8@ 41
Boat in Long Island City, 2002, 37x54
?3KL< <;KG FD83 x >0; I80
White House, 2001, 52x60, Private Collection (Israel) JK8<+8<C <;KG FD83 x <8EA 145
Pair of Trees, 2002, 55x64, Private Collection (New York)
40
?3KL< <;KG FD83 x <88?C4/4 <42/ I80
Red House and Bicycle, 2002, 48x54, Private Collection (Israel) x x =<;G<6 388@?:4 I8/H= 39
Truck and Church (diptych), 2005, 54x42 / 54x30
x @= I0:G
Train No. 7, 2001, 60x52
38
B8;DC<KG B<;D6?G ?J<A8 <K8? FD83 x <8?4=8;4 ;46: >4;6 37
Blue Window and Lemons, 2003, 51x67, Lori and Michael Feldstein Collection (Princeton)
JK8<+8<C <;KG FD83 x 3=42/ I856
Red Faรงade, 2002-3, 48x60, Private Collection (New York)
36
x <6C3 IG0424 G3?3 35
River and Coal Barge, 2006, 60x72
x 3;AI3
The Canal, 2006, 48x60
34
JK8<+8<C <;KG FD83 x >4;64 3?82
Dina and Window, 2002, 54x80, Private Collection (New York)
K<<C ?E B8KG<E x @8L<K 33
Sketch, 2002, 4x12, pencil on paper
x <834;/ 8?C
Divine Presence, 2001, 80x54
32
31
x x =<;G<6 @H84= ;H >@6=3
Moishe's Storage (diptych), 2005, 40x40 / 40x60
30
x I0:4H 3;GF4 82A 29
Adi with Carla Lying Down, 2007-8, 54x58
x I0:4H 82A4 3;GF
Carla with Adi Lying Down, 2006-8, 60x72
28
x 9/;=4 >4;6 27
Window and Angel, 2009, 72x60
x 9/;=4 G448A 9;3
Blind Man Walking and Angel, 2008, 66x44
26
x >0/ ;H H/G4 >4;6 25
Window and Stone Head, 2005-7, 54x80
JK8<+8<C <8? <K58 ;C3 5 FD83 x 6G 23
100th Street, 2008, 48x72, Janet and Gary Levy Collection (New York)
x <4I: >4;6 21
Orange Window, 2008, 48x70
Â˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ªÈ¯ËÓÈÒ–‡ÏÎ ‰‡¯˘ ˙‡ ȯËÓÈÒ ÔÙ‡· Ôȇ˘ ‰‡¯ ·˘ ̘ӷ ˙ÂÈ˯‰Â˜ ‡ÂˆÓÏ ÌÈÏÂÎÈ ÂÁ‡ ËÓχ ¨®Ú·ȯ‰© Ï„ÂÓ‰ ÍÂ˙· ÏÏÎ˘Ó Æ˙ÂÈ˯‰Â˜ ‰ÈˆÒ ‡ ¨Û ¨˙ÂÓ„ ÂÊ Ì‡ ÔÈ· ≠ ˘Èȷ‡‰ ÍÂ˙Ó Â‰˘ÏÎ ÈÚˆÓ‡ ‡Â‰ „ȯ‚‰ Æ˙Î˙ÂÁ ‰„·ÂÚÏ ÍÙ‰ „ÈÈÓ ≠ ˙ȯÈÚ ¯˙·Ó ¨˙ÈËÈχ ‰Ùˆ ˘Èȷ‡‰ ∫˙È·ÈËÈÊÂÙ ˙·˙‰Ï Ïη “ÌÈÓ˘‚ÂÓ” ÂÏ˘ ÌȘÏÁ‰ ÆÈ˙ËÈ˘ ÔÙ‡· ÌȘÏÁÏ „Á Ò˜ÂÙÏ ÌÈ„„ÂÁÓ ¨Ì‰Ï˘ ˙ȯϘÈ˯ى ˙Â˯ى ÌÈÏ„ÂÓ Ï˘ Ù˜Ò¯˜ÈÓÎ „˜Ù˙Ó˘ ¨„ȯ‚‰ Ï˘ Â˙¯ÊÚ· ÔÂÏÁ· ȯ„ÂÓ‰ „ȯ‚‰ Ï·‡ Æ®˙ÂÈÚ·ȯ‰ ˙„ÈÁȉ© ‰˘ÊÈ‡Ï ≠ “Íίϔ ≠ ˘Ë˘ËÏ ‰Ë ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ È˙¯ÂÒÓ‰ „ȯ‚‰˘ ÌÈÈ˙„·ÂÚ‰ ÌÈ˯ى ˙‡ ȇ„ȇ ÏÂÏÎÓ Ï˘ ÂÙÂÒ· Ìȇ¯ ÂÏ˘ ÌÈ‘‚‡Óȇ‰˘ ¨‡È‰ ‰‡ˆÂ˙‰ Æ„„· Æ˙·˙Ó ‰¯È˜ÁÎ ¯˘‡Ó ˘Ù‰ Ï˘ ˙ÂÂÈÊÁÎ ¯˙ÂÈ ¯·„ Æ·¢‰¯‡· ˙ÂÓ‡‰ ȯ˜·Ó·˘ ÌÈίÚÂÓ‰Ó ‡Â‰ ËÈÙÒ˜ „Ï„
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≠ ̉· ‰‡¯˘ ‰Ó Ï˘ ¨˙ÂÈÒœ ¨˙‡ÏÙÂÓ “˙ÂÈÂÓ˘‚˙‰“Ï
Artforum¨ Artnet Magazine¨ ÌÈÈÊ‚Ó· Û˙¢ ͯÂÚ ‡Â‰ ËÈÙÒ˜
̉ÈÏ‡Ó ÌÈ·ÂÓ Ìȯ‡È˙ ¯˘‡Ó ¯˙ÂÈ ˙ÈÁ¯ ˙ÂÏ‚˙‰
ÆArt Criticism Ï˘ È˘‡¯‰ ͯÂډ ¨Tema Celeste– ¨Sculpture
Ï„·˘ ‰Ó ÆÂÈ‰È ÌÈȯ‡È˙ ‰ÓÎ ‰˘Ó ‡Ï ¨˙ÈÏ·Ò‰ ÔÈÚÏ
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Ï˘ ÂÙÂÒ· ‡Â‰ ¯·Â˜ ¨˙ȈÈÁ‰ ˙‡Ȉӷ ¯È‰Ê Ô·˙Ó
¨ÏÈÈ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ ¨‰È·ÓÂϘ ˙ËÈÒ¯·ÈÂ‡Ó Ìȯ‡˙Ï ÛÒ· ÌÈ„ÂÓÈω ÏÂÏÒÓ ˙‡ ÌÈÏ˘‰ ‡Â‰ ¨‰È·ÏÈÒÙ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ Ƙ¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ Ï˘ ȇÂÙ¯‰ Êίӷ ÈËÈχ–ÂÎÈÒÙ‰ ÔÂÎÓ· ≤∞∞∏–· Æ‚ÊÏ‚ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡· ÔÂÒ˯·Â¯ ÔÂÎÓ· ˙ÈÓÚ ‰È‰ ≤∞∞μ–· ÆÈÒÙ¯˜–ÔÂË‚ÈÂÂÈ Ô¯˜Ó ˙ÂÓ‡· ˙ÂÈÂˆÓ ÏÚ Ò¯Ù Ï·È˜ ˙ÂÓ‡‰ Ï˘ ‰È¯ÂËÒÈ‰Ï Í¯ÚÂÓ ¯ÂÒÙ¯٠‡Â‰ ËÈÙÒ˜ ¨˜Â¯·–ÈÂËÒ· State University of New York–· ‰ÈÙÂÒÂÏÈÙÏÂ
Professor at Large–Î Ô‰ÈÎ ±ππ∑≠±ππ± ÌÈ˘‰ ÔÈ·Â Æϯ˜ ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡· ¨ËÈȯ·ÏÂÙ ˙ÈÎ˙Ó ¨„¯ÂÙ ÔÂÎÓÓ ¯˜ÁÓ È˜ÚÓ Ï·È˜ ËÈÙÒ˜ ¨Á¯‰ ÈÚ„ÓÏ ˙ÈÓ‡ω Ô¯˜‰Ó ¨˙ÂÈÂÓ‡Ï ˙ÈÓ‡ω Ô¯˜‰Ó ÌÈ·¯ ÌÈ‚¯‡Ó ˙·¯˙Ï ˙ÈÈÒ‰ ‰ˆÚÂÓ‰Ó ¨ÌÈȉ‚‚ Ô¯˜Ó ˙ÂίÚ˙ ÏÚ ˙¯˜ȷ ¨ÌÈ¯Ó‡Ó ˙Â‡Ó ·˙Î ‡Â‰ ÆÌÈÙÒ ¯ÙÒ È˙··Â ˙·¯ ˙‡ËÈÒ¯·È‡· ‰ˆ¯‰Â ¨ÌÈ‚ÂÏË˜Ï Ìȯ·ÈÁ ÌÈίÚÏ ‰˜ÈËȯ· ˙ËÈÒ¯·È‡ ¯Â·Ú ıÚÂȖͯÂÚ ‡Â‰ Æ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ¨®±∂ ‰¯Â„‰Ó© ¢˙ÂÓ‡ ˙¯Â˜È·¢Â ¢±π∞∞≠μ∞ ˙ȇÙ¯ȇ ˙ÂÓ‡¢ ÈÒÂÏ Ô¯˜ Ï˘ ıÂÚÈȉ ˙„Ú· ¯·Á ‡Â‰ Æ·˙Î Ì‚ ‰˙‡˘ ÆÔ¯·‡‚ Ô¯˜·Â ‰Â˜Ë‡߈ ÔÂÎÓ· ¨ÒˢÂÏÈÙ ˙„‚‡· ¨ÒχȄ Æ˙·¯ ˙ÂίÚ˙ ¯ˆ‡ ‡Â‰ ¨ÔÎ ÂÓÎ
19
Ɖ˜ÈË˙Ò‡ Ï˘ Ô˜ÈËÒÈÓ ¯·„
˙‡ ÏÓÒÓ ¨ıÂÁ·Ó˘ ÌÏÂÚ· ËÈ·‰Ï Ô˙È Âί„ ¨ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰
ÏÎ‰Ó ¯˙ÂÈ ‰Ï‚Ó˘ ˜ÏÁ‰ ¨ÈÏÈ·˘· ¨Ï·‡ Æ˘Ù ÔÂÈÂÂÈ˘ÏÂ
·Â˘Ó ˘È ‰·˘ ˙ίÚÓ ≠ ˙ÂÓ‡‰ Ï˘ ‰ÁÂ˙Ù‰ ˙ίÚÓ‰
· ˙ÂÓÏÂÚ‰ È˘ ÔÈ· ¯˘‚Ó˘ ÔÂÏÁ‰ Ï˘ „ȯ‚‰ ‡Â‰ ¯ÂȈ·
“˙ÈÚ·Ë“‰ ˙ÂÓ„‰ ˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ÏÓÂÒÓ‰ ¨ÌÈÈÁ‰ ÌÏÂÚÓ
Æ̉ÈÈ·˘ ˘ÈÏÙ˜‰ ÏÚ ÚÈ·ˆÓ Íη ¨Ì‰ÈÈ· „ȯÙÓ ˙Ú·
ƉÓ¯ډ
Ï„‚‰ „ȯ‚· „‰„‰Ó ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ ÔÂÏÁ Ï˘ Ï„‚‰ „ȯ‚‰
˙ÈÊÁ· ÌÈÈÓȇ ˙ÂÂÏÁ Ï˘ ‰¯Â˘ ȯÁ‡ ‰¯Â˘
ÌÈÒÁȉ ∫ÔÂÏÁ‰ ͯ„ ÌÈÙ˜˘‰ ÌÈÈÈ·‰ ˙„ÒÙ·˘ ¯˙ÂÈ
ÌÈ˘‡‰ Ï˘ ÌÈÈÓȇ‰ ÌÈÈÁ‰ ÏÚ ÌÈÚÈ·ˆÓ ÔÈÈ·‰
‰Èί¯È‰‰ ≠ „ȯ‚‰ Ï˘ ˙¢‰ ˙ÂÓ¯‰ ÔÈ·˘ ÌÈÓÎÁÂ˙Ó‰
¯„ÂÒÓ ÔÙ‡· ÌÈ‚¯Â‡Ó˘ ÌÈÈÁ ¨Âχ ˙¯Ȅ· ÌÈÈÁ˘
¨‰¯·ÁÂ Ú·Ë ÔÈ·˘ ˘ÈÏÙ˜‰ ˙‡ ÌÈ‡Ë·Ó ≠ „ȯ‚‰ Ï˘
ÆÌÈÈÁ ̉ ÔÎÂ˙·˘ ˙¯Ȅ‰ ÂÓÎ ˜ÂÈ„· Ìȯ„ÂÓÓ È˙ËÈ˘Â
˙ÈËÒÈχȈËÒÈʘ‡‰ ‰·Èω ‡Â‰˘ ¨Ì„‡‰ Ú·Ë ÏÏÂÎ
Ô‰· Ìȯ‚˘ ÌÈ˘‡‰Â ¨‡ÏΠȇ˙ ‰˘ÚÓÏ Ô‰ ®˙¯Ȅ‰© Âχ
‰ÈÁ·Ó ¯˙ÙÈ‰Ï ÏÂÎÈ Ë˜ÈÏÙ˜‰ Ư·Â˜ Ï˘ ˙ÂÓ‡·
˙ÂÈÓ¯ÂÙ˜‰ ÏÚ ˙ÂÚÈ·ˆÓ Ô‰ Ɖ¯·Á‰ Ï˘ ÌȯÈÒ‡ ̉
˙ÈÁ·Ó ÈÂÓ¯‰ ÔÙ‡· ÌÈÚÓË Ú·Ë‰Â ‰¯·Á‰ ≠ ˙ÈË˙Ò‡
¨‰Á„ ÔÓ‡‰ Ï˘ ˙ÂÈÓ¯ÂÙ˜–Ô‰˘ ≠ ˙˘¯Â„ ‰¯·Á‰˘
¯È˙Ù È˙Ï· ¯˙ ‡Â‰ Ï·‡ ≠ ‰ÂÓ˙· ÌÈȯˆ‰ ÌÈÒÁȉ
¯·Â˜˘ ÈÙÎ ¨Â˙„·ڷ ‰˙‡ ·Ï˘Ó ‰· ¯ÈÎÓ ‡Â‰˘ Û‡ ÏÚ
¯·„‰ ÔÂÎ „ÁÂÈÓ· ÆÌÈÈÂÓÈ„‰ ÌÏÂÚ· ÔÈÚÏ ËÏ· ÔÙ‡·
Ï˘ ˙„ÒÙÏ Ô˙ ‡Â‰˘ ˙È·ÈÒҷ‡‰ ·Ï‰ ˙Ó¢˙· ‰˘ÂÚ
˙ÂÓ„‰˘ ¯Á‡Ó ¨ÌÈÈ˙ÙÂÓ‰ ÔÈÈ·–Û‰ ÈÈÂÓÈ„· ÈÈÈÚ·
Ï·‚‰ ˙‡ ÔÓÒÏ Í¯„ Ôȇ˘ ÏÏÎ ‰˘Ó ‰Ê Ôȇ ÆÂÏ˘ ÌÈÈÈ·‰
‡È‰ ¨ÏÓÒÏ ‰ÏÂÎÈ ‡È‰˘ ‰Ó ÏÎÏ ¯·ÚÓ ¨ÂÈ„ÂËÒ· ‰Ó¯ډ
̉ ƉˆÂÁ‰ ÌÈÁ˙Ù‰ ˙ÂÂÏÁ‰ ͯ„ ÔÈÈ··˘ ˙¯Ȅ‰ Ï˘
‰ÈˆÒ· ˙¯‰¯‰Ó ‰ËÈ·Ó ‡È‰ Ư·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÓÂ˜Ó ˙‡ÏÓÓ
Ôȇ˘ ÍÎ ÏÚ ÌÈÚÈ·ˆÓ ¨„ÂÁÈÈ È¯ÒÁ ¨ÌÓˆÚ ÏÚ ÌȯÊÂÁ
˙¯˜Ò‰ ˙‡ ˙‚ˆÈÈÓ ‡È‰ ≠ ‰˘ÂÚ ‡Â‰˘ ÈÙÎ ¨˙ȯÈÚ‰
˙ÂÂÏÁ‰ ÆÔ‰· ÌÈÈÁ˘ ÌÈ˘‡‰Â ˙¢‰ ˙¯Ȅ‰ ÔÈ· Ï„·‰
ÌÏÂÚ· Ë·Ó‰ ÆÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ ˙·È˘ÙÒ¯Ù Ï˘ ˙˜˙ÂÓ‰
¨ÌÈÓ„ ÌÈÈÁ ÏÚ ÌÈ„ÈÚÓ ˙ÂÓ„‰ Ìȷω ÌÈÓ„‰
ÌÏÂÚ· ‰ÈÈÙˆ‰Ó ‰Â˘ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ ÔÂÏÁ Ï˘ ¯ËÏÈÙÏ „Ú·Ó
ÌÂ˜Ó Ôȇ˘ ÍÎ ÚÈ·ˆÓ Ì‰Ï˘ È‚ÂÓ‰‰Â ‰˘˜Â‰ ¯Â„ÈÒ‰Â
–ÂÈ Ï˘ ·ÂÁ¯‰ ÈÈÁÓ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÈ˙¯ÎÊ Ì‡ Ì‚ ¨·ÂÁ¯‰Ó
˙¯Ȅ· ≠ ˙¢ÈÓ‚Ï ¨˙È·È˂˜ ˙È˘‚¯ ‰ÁÈÓˆÏ ≠ „ÂÁÈÈÏ
‰˜ÈÊ ÏÚ ÌÈÊÓ¯Ó ÂÏ˘ ¯ÈÚ‰ ÈÙ ÍÂ˙Ï ÌÈÏÁÏÁÓ ˜¯ÂÈ
‰„ÈÁȉ ˙¯˘Ù‡‰˘ ¨‡Â‰ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ¯ÒÓ‰ Æ̉ȯÂÁ‡Ó˘
ÆNew York Aschan School–Ï ˙ÓÈÂÒÓ
ÂÏÈÙ‡ ≠ Ú·Ë· Ô·˙ÓÏ ‰ÎÈÙ‰· ‰ÂÓË ˙È˘È‡ ‰ÁÈÓˆÏ
˙ίÚÓ ≠ ËÂ˘Ù ‰·Ó ‡Â‰ „ȯ‚‰ ¨ÔÈÚ‰ ˙ȇ¯ÓÏ
‡Ó‡ Ï˘ ‰ÒÈ٠ȉÂÊ ÆÈ˘‰ Û‚‰ ‡Â‰˘ ¨ÂÏ˘ Ô˘ÂÓ‰ ÈÂËÈ··
„Á‡ Ï΢ ¨ÌÓˆÚ ÏÚ ÌȯÊÂÁ˘ ÌÈÏ„ÂÓ Ï˘ ˙ȯËÓ‡‚
ÔÙ‡‰ Â˙‡· ˙ÂÓ‡‰ ˙‡ ‰ÈÊÓ ÌÈÈÁ ˙˙¢ ¨‰Ó„‡
·Á¯˙ÓÂ Í˘Ó ˙ÈÓʖ· ÂÓˆÚ ÈÙ· „ÓÂÚ ÈÙÂÒ ‡Â‰ ̉Ó
Û‚‰ ‡Â‰ ̇‰ Õ Û‚ ÆÚ·ËÏ ÌÈÈÁ ˙˙ ‰ÈÊÓ ‡È‰ ·˘
¨‰ÏÎ‰Ï Ô˙È Âȇ˘ ¨È„ÓÓ–·¯ ÏÏÁ ÏÚ ÊÓ¯ „ȯ‚‰ ÆÛÂÒȇÏ
¯·Â˜ ·˘ ÔÙ‡‰ Â˙‡· ¨ÌÈ¯Â˘˜ ÂÁ‡ ÂÈχ˘ Ô¢‡¯‰
˙‡ ‰ÏÈÎÓ‰ ˙È„ÓÓ–„Á ‰¯Âˆ ‡Â‰ ÂÓˆÚ˘ÎÏ Ì‡ Ì‚
Ï„ÂÓ‰ Æ®motherland© Â˙„ÏÂÓ Ï˘ ÌÈ˘‚¯Ó‰ ÌÈÙÂÏ ¯Â˘˜
‰˜ÈË˜Ï‡È„Ï ˘Ó˘Ó ‡Â‰ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÈ„È· Ìχ ≠ ‰ÓˆÚ
˙ÂÓ„‰ Ƙ¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ· ¨“˙ÂÏ‚·” ¯·Â˜˘Î Ì‚ ‰˙‡ ÏÓÒÓ È˘‰
„ȯ‚ Ô‰ ˙¯Ȅ‰ ÈÈÈ· Ï˘ ˙ÂÁÂˢ‰ ˙„ÒÙ‰ Æ˙·Î¯ÂÓ
ÌÈÈÈ·‰Ó Ìȯ„Ú‰ ÌÈÈÁ‰ ˙‡ÏÓ ÏÎ ˙‡ ˙‡˘Â ˙È˘‰
ÌÈ·Ï Ï˘ „ȯ‚ ÍÂ˙· ÌÈÓ˜ÂÓÓ‰ ÌÈȯÏ„ÂÓ ˙ÂÂÏÁ Ï˘
˙ÂÓ‡‰ ˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ¨Ì‰· ¯„Á‰ ÌÈÈÁ‰ ̇ Ì‚ ∫ÌÈÁÂˢ‰
Ìȷω Ï˘ Ï„ÂÓ‰ ¨Ï„‚ ‡Â‰ ÈÂÏÁ‰ Ï„ÂÓ‰ Æ˙ÂȯÏ„ÂÓ
‡Â‰˘ ˙ÈË˙Ò‡‰ ˙ÂÚÓ˘Ó‰ È„È–ÏÚ ÌÈ˘‡ÂÓ Ì‰ ̇ Ì‚Â
‰Ó ¨Ô¢‡¯‰Ó ¯˘‡Ó Ô¯Á‡‰Ó ¯˙ÂÈ ˘È Ï·‡ ¨Ô˘ ‡Â‰
˙ÂÒÎÓ‰ ¨ÔȘÓÂÈËÂÙ ˙„ÒÙ Ìȯ˙ ÔÈÈ„Ú Ì‰ ≠ Ì‰Ï ˜ÈÚÓ
˙‡ ˘È‚„Ó ̉ÈÈ· ÌÈȘ˘ ÈÂÓÒ‰ Á˙Ó‰ ˙‡ ¯È·‚Ó˘
¨Ì˙‰ӷ ÊÂÎȯ ˙ÂÁÓ Âχ Ôȇ ̇‰ Æ˙È˘Â‡‰ ˙˜ȯ‰ ÏÚ øÏÚÂÙ· ‡Ï ̇ Ì‚
Æ̉ÈÈ· Ï„·‰‰ Ï·‡ Ì‰Ï˘ ‰·Ó· ÌÈÓ„ ÌÓ‡ ˙ÂÂÏÁ‰Â Ìȷω
¢Ó˙˘‰ ·˘ ÔÂ‚Ó Â‰Ê ∫„ȯ‚Ï ¯˘˜· Ô¯Á‡ ¯·„
˙ÂÂÏÁ‰ ¨˙ÂÓ„‡ Ô‰ Ìȷω ÆÌÈÎÒÎÂÒÓ Ì‰ ˙Èί¯È‰
ÒÂÙ˙Ï ÆÌÏÂÚ‰ ˙‡ ¯‚ÒÓÏ ˙Ó ÏÚ ¨È˙¯ÂÒÓ ÔÙ‡· ¨ÌÈÓ‡
ÌÈÙ˜˘Ó ˙ÂÂÏÁ‰ Æ̉ÈÈ· Á˙ÓÏ ÛÈÒÂÓ˘ ‰Ó ¨Ú·ˆ ȯÒÁ
ÌÈÚ˘ÓÏ Â˙˜ÂÏÁ È„È–ÏÚ Â˙‡ ˘Â·ÎÏ ÍÎÈÙÏ Â˙‡
ÌÈ¯Â‚Ò Ìȇ¯ ÌÈÈÈ·‰ ªıÂÁ·Ó˘ ÌÏÂÚ‰Ó ¨ÏÏη ̇ ¨ËÚÓ
¯·‚ ÔÓ‡ ·˘ ¨¯¯È„ Ï˘ ÌÒ¯ÂÙÓ‰ ÒÙ„‰‰ ÆÌÈȯÏ„ÂÓ
‰¯Â‡ÎÏ ÌÈÏÂÎÈ ˙ÂÂÏÁ‰˘ Û‡ ÏÚ ÌÏÂÚ‰ ÈÙ· ÔÈËÂÏÁÏ
„ȯ‚ Ï˘ “‰˘„Ú” ͯ„ ¨‰ÓÂ¯Ú ˙È˘ ˙ÂÓ„ “˜È˙ÚÓ”
„ȯ‚‰Â ˙ÂÂÏÁ‰ Ï˘ „ȯ‚‰˘ ¯Â·Ò ȇ Æ‡Ï Ì‰ ≠ Á˙ÙȉÏ
Ɖ„˜‰ ˙‡ ¯È‰·Ó ¨ÌÈȯÏ„ÂÓ ÌÈÚÂ·È¯Ó ·Î¯ÂÓ‰ Û˜˘
˙ίÚÓ‰ ˙‡ ÌÈÏÓÒÓ ˙„ÒÙ‰ ˙‡ ÌȯˆÂȉ Ìȷω Ï˘
„ÂÓÏÏ Ô˙È Â˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ÆÒÈÊÓÈÓ Ï˘ ÈÚˆÓ‡ ‡Â‰ „ȯ‚‰
ÔÂÏÁ Ï˘ „ȯ‚‰˘ „ÂÚ· ¨‰¯·Á‰ Ï˘ ‰¯Â‚҉ ˙˜ÂÁ‰ 18
ڷˉ ÈÚË˜Ó ÌÚ ˙È·¯Â‡‰ ‰·È·Ò· Ì‚ ÍΠ¨˙‡ϘÁÏ
ÌÏÂÚ ˙‡ ·ˆÈÚ ≠ ÌȯÁ‡Â Ô·ҷ‰ ˜È¯‡ ÔÂȯÂËÒȉ‰ ÈÙÏ˘
̉ÈÙÚ·© ÌȈډ ̉·˘ ÌȯÂȈ· ‰Ó‚Â„Ï ÂÓÎ ≠ ‰·˘
˙‡ ¯ÈȈÓ ¯ÊÂÁ ¯·Â˜˘ ‰„·ÂÚ‰ ÆȄ‰ȉ ®psyche© ˘Ù‰
®˙ÂÂÚÓ ˙ÂÈËÒÈÂÈÒ¯ÙÒ˜‡ ˙ÂÈÂÓ„ Âȉ Ï˘Ó ÌÈϘÚ˙Ó‰
˙‡ ‡˘ Â˘È Â·˘ ¨¯Â·˙ ¯‰ Ï˘ ‰Ï‚ډ ‰Î¯‰ ‰¯Âˆ‰
‡Ï ÌÈȯ„ÂÓ ÌÈ·Ó ¨ÌÈÈÓȇ ÌÈÈÈ· ÈÙÏ ÌÈ„ÓÂÚ
„ˆ‰Ó ¨ÌÁÓ „˘À ÔÈÚÓ ‡Â‰ ‰ÊÎΠ¨“¯‰‰ ÏÚ ‰˘¯„‰”
‰¯ÂˆÏ „‚ȷ ÌÈ„ÓÂÚ˘ ÌÈÚ·˜ ÌÈ¯Â˘ÈÓ Ï˘ ÌÈÈËÓ¯„
‚¯‰ Ô˙‰È Ï‡˘ ·˘ ¨‰˘˜Â‰ Ú·ς‰ ¯‰ ˙‡ È˘‰
Ì‚ ‡Â‰ Ï·‡ Æ“ÌÈÏ·ÂÒ‰” ÌȈډ Ï˘ ¨‰Ù¢Á‰ ¨˙ÈËÓ¯„‰
ÏÚ ‰ÚÈ·ˆÓ ≠ ®“„È„ ˙Ș“· ¯ÎʇӢ ÈÙΩ ÌÓˆÚ ˙‡
Âȇ˘ ‡ ÌÈÙ ¯È·ÒÓ Ú·Ë ‰Ê ‡‰È ¨Ú·Ë· ˙È˘‚¯ ·¯ÂÚÓ
Ï˘ ˙‡ȈӉ ¨‰Â˜˙ Ԅ·Â‡ Ï˘ ˙Ȅ‰ȉ ‰˜È˘χȄ‰
„È–ÏÚ Â·˘ ÌÈ·Ó·Â ¨È‚¯Â‡ ‡Ï ‡ È‚¯Â‡ ¨ÌÈÙ ¯È·ÒÓ
˙ÂÓ‡‰ ÒÈÒ·· ˙‡ˆÓ˘ ¨‰Ï‡‚‰ Ï˘ ˙¯˘Ù‡‰Â Ï·Ò‰
ÆÌÈ„¯˘Ó ‡ ˙¯Ȅ È˙· Âχ ÂÈ‰È ¨˙ÂÂÎÓ
Ư·Â˜ Ï˘
˙‚ˆÂÈÓ Ú·Ë‰ ÈÙ ¯ÈÚ‰ ÈÙÂ Ï˘ ‰˜È˘χȄ‰
‰˜È˘χȄ Ï˘ ‚ÂÒ ÒÒ·Ó ¯·Â˜˘ ¯Â·Ò ȇ
≠ È˘‰ ̯ÈÚ‰ ˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂȯÂȈ· ˙ÂËȉ¯·
≠ ̉ÈÈ· ˙ÎÂÂ˙ÓÎ ˙ÂÓ‡‰Â ¨‰¯·Á‰ ÔÈ·Ï Ú·Ë‰ ÔÈ·
‰ÊÎΠ¨Ú·Ë‰ Ï˘ ¨ÏÏÂÁÓ ‡Ï ¨¯Â‰Ë ·ˆÓ ‡Â‰ ‰˘È‡‰ Û‚
̉ÈÈ· ‰Èˆ¯‚ËÈ‡Ï ‡È·Ó˘ ÈË˙Ò‡‰ ÈÚˆÓ‡‰ ¯˘‡Î
ÆÔÈÈ·–Û Â˙ÂÎÏ Ô˙È˘ ‰Ó ÈÙÏ „ÓÂÚ˘ ≠ ÛÂ Ï˘ ‚ÂÒ ‡Â‰
„Á‡‰ Ï˘ Â˙ÎÈÙ‰Â È˘‰ ÍÂ˙· „Á‡‰ Ï˘ Â˙‡ÈˆÓ ‡Â‰
ÔÂÏÁ ÈÙÏ ˙·˘ÂÈ Â‡ ˙ί ‰Ë˜‰Â ‰Ó¯ډ ˙ÂÓ„‰
¯·Â˜ ÆÍÙȉÏ ¨®ÈËËÏ© È·Á Ú·Ë ÌˆÚ· ‡È‰ ¯ÈÚ‰ ÆÈ˘Ï
ÌÈÏ„‚‰ ÌÈÈÈ·· ‰ËÈ·Ó ¨®[grid¸ ˜‰·ÂÓ· ‡Â‰˘© Ï„‚
˙¯ȄÁ‰ ÏÚ ¨Ì‰ÈÈ· ÌÈÈ˙¯Î‰–˙˙‰ ÌÈÒÁȉ ÏÚ ÚÈ·ˆÓ
ÏÏÁ‰ ¨È¯Â·Èˆ‰Â È˯ى ¨˜Á¯Ӊ ÈÓÈËȇ‰ ÆÂÏ ‰ˆÂÁÓ˘
ÆÚ„ÂÓ–‡Ï‰ ‰ÁÂÎ ˙‡ ÂÏ˘ ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ‰˜Ó˘ ‰Ó ¨˙ÂÈ„„‰‰
‰˙Â‡Ï „ÁÈ Ìȇ·ÂÓ ¨ÌÏÂÚ‰ Ï˘ ÏÏÁ‰ ÏÂÓ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ Ï˘
‰˘‚„‰‰ ‰Ó‚Â„Ï ÂÓÎ ¨¯ÈÚ Ï˘ ÌÈÈÈÙ‡Ó ‰ËÂÚ Ú·Ë‰ ¨ÍÎ
ÆÌÈÏ„·Â ÌÈÁ·ÂÓ Ìȯ˙ ̉ ÔÈÈ„Ú˘ Û‡ ÏÚ ‰ÂÓ˙
„ÈÓ˙˘ ¯Â‡‰ ‡ ¨Û‰ Ï˘ ‰¯Â˘ËÈί‡‰ ˙‡ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘
¨È¯Ï˜È˯٠̄‡ Ì‚ ‡È‰ ¨‰¯‚Ó Û‚ ̇ Ì‚ ¨‰Ó¯ډ ˙ÂÓ„‰
®detached© ˜˙ÂÓ ‰Ùˆ ‡Â‰ ÆÈÚ·Ë ÔÙ‡· ¨¯ÈÚ· ‰˙˘Ó
˙Â˘È„‡Ï ‰‡È·Ó ¨Ô¯˜ÈÚ· È˙¯·Á ÏÏÁ ̇ Ì‚ ¨¯ÈÚ‰Â
Ì„‡‰ È„È–ÏÚ ˙È· „·ÂÚ˘ Û· Ì‚ ÂÓÎ ¨ÈÓÏ‚‰ Ú·Ë·
¨Â· ÔÈÈÚ˙‰ ‡Ï ÔÎ Â˙¢ڷ ÔÈÈ„Ú ¨Ú·Ë‰ ˙‡ ¯‡È˙ ÔÓ‡‰ ÏÓÒ ¨È˘Â‡‰ ˘‚¯Ï ‰Ï˙Ó‡Ï ÍÙ‰ ڷˉ ªÂÓˆÚ· ̇ ÈÎ Æ˙ÂÓ‡Ï ÍÙ‰ ‡Â‰ Æ˙˜Ȅ‡ ¨˙ÂË˘Ù ¨˙È˘Â‡ ‰ÁÓ˘Ï ¨Â˙·È·Ò· Ìȯ·„ Ìȇ¯ ÂÁ‡ Ú¯‚ ‰ÓÎ ÌÈÚ„ÂÈ ÂÁ‡ÆÆÆ ıÂÁ·Ó ‡Â·È˘ ‰˘ÈÓÏ ÌȘ˜Ê ÂÁ‡ ˙ÂÙÂÎ˙ ÌÈ˙ÚÏ˘Â Ìȯ·„ ÊÈÊ‰Ï Ì„‡‰ È· ˆχ ÍΠÆÂ˙‡ ··ÂÒ ‰Ó ÂÏ „È‚È ˙ÂÈ‚‰· ̉Èχ ˙˘‚Ï ¯˙ÂÈ ¯ÁÂ‡Ó ÂÏÎÂÈ˘ È„Î ¨˜Á¯ÓÏ Ì‰· ÌÈ·˙Ó ¨˙ÂȯÈÏÈÓÙ ˙ÂÁÙ·Â ¨Ú‚¯·Â ¯˙ÂÈ ‰·¯ ڷˉ ˙‡ ÔÈ·‰Ï ÂÏÈÁ˙‰ Ì„‡ È· ÈΠƘÁ¯ÓÓ ˘„˜ ˙‡¯È· ‡Â‰˘ Â˘È‚¯‰ ̉ ¯˘‡Î ª„ÂÚ Â˙‡ ÂÈ·‰ ‡Ï ¯˘‡Î ˜¯ ʇ ¨Â˙‡ ÔÈ·‰Ï ˙ÏÂÎÈ ‡ÏÏ ¨Ì„‡‰ È·Ï ˘È„‡ ¨¯Á‡‰ ‰È‰ Æ„„·‰ ڷˉ ÌÏÂÚÏ ıÂÁÓ ¨Â„·Ï ¨Ì„‡‰ ‡ˆÈ ‰Â˘‡¯Ï
¥Rilke¨ “Concerning Landscape”
<;KG FD83 x 87@804F >4;6
Cubist Window, 2001, 48x60, Private Collection 17
man in, when, at last, man remakes the earth like a bed, that the human spirit hastens towards nature, looks at it as it never has before, sees this eternal mother for the first time, conquers her through study, surprises her, ravishes her, transports her and fixes her living and flagrante delicto on pages and canvases with an unequaled veracity. Will landscapes become a resurrection, the Easter of the eyes?”
Ï˘ ¯Îȉ‰ ÈÓÈÒ Ô‰ ¯„‡ ¯Â„‡˙ ÈÙ–ÏÚ˘ ˙ÂÈÏÈÏ˘‰Â ̂© Ì‰Ï˘ ÌÏ˘ÂÓ‰ ÈÂËÈ·‰ ¨Â¯Â„‡ ÏÈ·˘· Æ˙Âȯ„ÂÓ‰ ˙ÂÂÓ–ÌÏÂÚ ‡Â‰ ıÈ¢‡ ÆıÈ¢‡ ‡Â‰ ®¯˙ÂÈ· ¯ÂÎʉ ÈÂÓ‰ ¯ÂˆÈ· ¯ˆÂÈÓ ˙ÂÂÓ‰ ‰·˘ ¯ÈÚ ¨ÌÈÈÁ–ÌÏÂÚ Ì˜ӷ Ô‚Ó ˜Á¯Ӊ Ò¯‰ Ï˘ ÌÂ˜Ó ¨˙Â˘È„‡ Ì„‡ ˙ÂÂÎÓ È„È–ÏÚ „·ÈÚ‰ ÆÌÂÈÓÂȉ ÌÏÂÚÓ ®ÂȯÂȈ·© ¯ˆÂÈ ¯·Â˜˘ Ô„Ú‰ ≠ Ú·ËÏ ‰˘ÂÚ ¯·Â˜˘ ÈËÒÈÂÈÒ¯ÙÒ˜‡–ÈËÒÈÂÈÒ¯ÙÓȇ‰ ˙·ÂÓ‰ ‰¯Âˆ· ̇ ÔÈ· ¨Ú·Ë‰ ÌÚ ÂÏ˘ ÈË˙Ò‡‰ ÔÓ¯‰ χ¯˘È Ï˘ ¯ÎÂÓ‰ ÈÂÓÈ„‰© ÔÂÎÈ˙‰ Ìȉ ÈÙÂ Ï˘ ‰ÈÏ‡Ó ˙ÂÁÙ ‰¯Âˆ· ‡ ¨®ı¯‡‰ ˙·‰‡ ÁÂÎÓ Á¯Ù‰˘ ¯·„ÓÎ Ìȇ¯‰© ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ Ï˘ ÌÈȯ„ÂÓ‰ ÌÈ·Ó‰ Ï˘ ‰ÈÏ‡Ó ˙·ÂÓ
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ÈÎ¯ÂˆÏ ˙ÂÂÎÓ ¨‰·È·ÒÏ ÌÈÈ‚¯Â‡ ‡Ï ¨ÌÈÈÁÓ ÌÈ˙Ó ¯˙ÂÈ
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ÔÈ·Â ¨˘„˜‰ ı¯‡ ÈÙÂ Ï˘ ˙ȯ˜ÈÚ‰ ‰¯Âˆ· ̇ ÔÈ· Æ‚ˆÈÈÓ
˘Ù‰ ʇ ˜¯ ¨‰ËÈÓ ÂÓÎ ‰Ó„‡‰
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ÌÈ˘‡‰ ˙‡ “̘˘Ó” ‰˘ÚÓÏ ¨˙ÂÓ‡‰ È„È–ÏÚ “ͯ·ӓÏÂ
Female Dream, 2003, 67x54
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–È˙Ï· ÔÙ‡· ̇ Ì‚ ¨¯·Â˜ Ï˘ Â˙„Â·Ú ÆÂÈÈÈ·· ÌȇÂÏ΢
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¨‰Â˘‡¯‰ ÌÚÙ· ÂÏȇΠ˙ÈÁˆ
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¨Ì‡¯Ó· ÌÈȯ‚Ï ≠ „ÂÁÈȉ ȯÒÁ ÌÈÈχ·‰ ÌÈ·Ó‰
ÌÈÙ‰ Ì‚ ÂÓÎ ¨¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÌÈÙ‰˘ ¯Â·Ò ȇ
¨ÌÈËÂ˘Ù ¨Ìȯ‚Ï ÌÈ˘‡· ÌÈÒÏÎÂ‡Ó Ì‰˘ ¯Á‡Ó ÌÈȯ‚ÏÂÂ
ÏÚ ÌÈÙ„· „ÎÏ˘ ÌÈÈÁ‰
¨ÌȄ‰ȉ ˙ÂÏ·Ò Ï˘ ˙ÂÂÓ‰–ÈÙ ȄȖÏÚ ÌÈÙ„¯ ¨ÌÈȯÈÚ‰
¨Ò‚Ï ˙ÈÈËω ‰ÏÈÓ‰Ó Ú·Â “ȯ‚Ï”© ÌÈÏÚÂÙ‰ „ÓÚÓÓ
ÆÌÈ„˜˙ ˙¯ÒÁ ˙˜ÈÈ„· ÌÈÒ·J Ÿ
‰ÂÓ˘ ÈÙΩ Ú·ËÏ ¯ÈÚ‰ ˙ÎÈى ¨“ڷˉ χ ‰Áȯ·‰“˘
˙‡ȯ· ·Â¯Ó ÌÈÁ¯ÂÊÎ ÌÈÓ„ ≠ ®·Á¯‰ ¯Â·Èˆ‰ ‰˙ÂÚÓ˘Ó˘
¨Û‰ Ï˘ ˙ÈÂÚ·ˆ ‰ÈˆÓ¯ÂÙÒ¯Ë ˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· Ô„ÂÏÏ ‰˘Ú
¯˙ÂÈ Û‡ Èχ ®Ì‰· ˙ÂÈÁÏ ‡È¯· ‡Ï ÔÎ˙ÈÈ˘ ÈÙ ÏÚ Û‡©
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˙ÈÈÁ˙Ï ÂÎÙ‰È ÌÈÙ‰ ̇‰ “øÌÈÈÈÚ‰ Ï˘ ÌÈ˙Ó‰
Rainer Maria Rilke, “Concerning Landscape,” Selected Works (New York: New Directions, 1967), I (Prose), 3-4
4
˙·¯˙ Ï˘ ÊίÓÏ ‰˙‡ ÍÙ‰˘ ÔÂÓ‰Ï ¯ÂÂÈÚ ÏÂÎÈ·Î
‰¯·Á Ï˘ ‰È„ȯ˘ ¨ÈÂÚ ˙ÂÂ΢ Ô˙‡ ̉˘ ÏÏ‚· ‡˜Â„
Ȅ‰ȉ Ï·Ò‰ ˙‡ Ì‰Ï˘ ¯˙Ò‰ Ú˜¯· ÌȯˆÂ‡ ≠ ®ÌÈÂÓ‰‰
ÌÈÎÙ‰ ÌÈÈÈ·‰ ¨¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÏÂÙÈË· Æ˙ÓÏÚ ˙È˙ÈÈ˘Ú˙
¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂȯÂȈ·˘ ȯÂËÒȉ–‡‰ Ú·ËÏ Æ˙ÂÂÓÏ ÏÈ·ÂÓ˘
‰¯ÈÙÒÂÓˇ· ÌÈËÒȷ˜ ÌÈ·Ó ≠ È˙ËÒ‡ ‚ÂÚ˙Ï ÌȯÂÚÎÓ
ÌÈÚË Ì‰˘ ÌÂ˘Ó ‡˜Â„ ¨¯˙ÂÈ ÂÏÈÙ‡ ‰˜ÊÁ ˙ÂÁΠ˘È
Æ˙ÈËÒÈÂÈÒ¯ÙÒ˜‡ ‰ÙÂ˙· „ÁÈ Â‚ÊÓ˘ ¨˙ÈËÒÈÂÈÒ¯ÙÓȇ
‰ÈÁ ÔÈÈ„Ú “˙È·ÈË‚‰ ‰È¯ÂËÒȉ“‰ ¨È„‰ȉ Ï·Ò‰ ¯„Úȉ·
Ư·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂȯÂȈ· ˙‡ȈӉ „ÂÒÈ ÏÚ ¯·Â‚ ‰‡‰‰ „ÂÒÈ ¨ÍÎ
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Ï˘ ‰˙ÂÎÊ· ‰ÈÁ˙Ï Ì˜ÂÓ ‰˙Ó ˙‡ȈÓÎ ‰È‰ ‰Ó„˘ ‰Ó
‰Ú·ˉ ˙Ȅ‰ȉ ˙ÂÈÓÈÒÙ‰ ˙‡ ÛÈÏÁÓÎ ‰Ó„ ≠ χ¯˘È
ÈËËÒÎ ‰‡¯˘ ‰Ó ÆÌÈÈÁÏ Â˙˘È‚ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ڷˉ ˙·‰‡
˙È„Â‰È ¯ÈÚ ÌÚÙ© ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈÏ ‰¯·Ú ‡È‰ Ï·‡ ¨˙È˙¯·Á
˙‡˙ ÂÏÈÙ‡ ≠ ˙ÂÈÂÈÁ‰ ˙ÂÎÊ· ¯¯ÂÚ˙Ó ˙ÂÈÁ–¯ÒÁÂ
Ìȯ˙¢ ¨ÌȯÎÂÓ‰ ÌÈ·Ó· ˙¯ÎÈ ‡È‰ Ì˘ ¨®‰˜ÏÁ·
Ï˘ ˙ÂÓÓÚ˘Ó‰ ˙„ÒÙ‰ ÆÂÈÏÚ Ôȯ˜Ó ÔÓ‡‰˘ ≠ ÌÈÈÁ‰
Ï˘ Â˙„·ڷ˘ ‰ÈˆÊÈÏÂÒ¯Ù‰ ˙¯ÓÏ ¨Ûˆ¯Ù ȯÒÁ
È·ˆÓ ˙‡ Ôȯ˜Ó ¯·Â˜ ÂÈÏÚ˘ ÍÒÓÏ ˙ÂÎÙ‰ ÌÈÈÈ·‰
ÔÙ‡· Ï·‡ ¨‰¯·Á‰ ˙‡ ˙Â˘Ï È„Î ÏˆÂÓ Ú·Ë‰ Ư·Â˜
¨ÌÈ˘‡ÂÈÓ Â‡ ÌÈȇ΄ΠÌȇ¯ Ìȇ ÌÏÂÚÏ˘ ¨ÂÏ˘ Á¯‰
ÆÌÈÈχȈÂÒ–Èˇ Ìȯ˙ ÌÈÈÈ·‰ ¨ÈÏҘ„¯Ù
Ư˙ÂÈ ÌÈ˘˘Â ÌÈÎÎÂ¯Ó ÌÈÓÚÙÏ Ì‰ ̇ Ì‚
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ÔÙ‡· Ô‰ ≠ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ˙È·ÈËÈÊÂÙ‰ Ë·Ó‰ ˙„˜
˙ȯÊ·‰ ˙Âȯ·¯·‰ ˙‡ ≠ ÏÓÒÓ ‡Â‰˘ ‰Ó ıÈ¢‡ Ï˘
˙Â˘È„‡Ï ˙„‚˙Ó ≠ È·È˯‚ÈÙ ÔÙ‡· ԉ ÈÏÂÏÈÓ
¨˙ȯ„ÂÓ‰ ‰¯·Á‰ Ï˘ ˙ÂÈÒ¯‰‰ ˙‡Â ÌÈ„˜˙‰ ˙¯ÒÁÂ
˙Â˘È„‡‰ ˙‡ ÌÈÓÏ‚Ó‰ ÌÈ·Ó ∫ÌÈ·Ó‰ Ï˘ ˙ÈËËÈÏÈÓ‰ 16
ø¯Â˘È‚Ï ÌÈ˙È Ì‰ ̇‰ ¨Ú·Ë‰ ÈÙ ¯ÈÚ‰ ÈÙ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ ÌȯÂȈ‰ ËÈÙÒ˜ „Ï„
˙¯Ȉȉ ÏÚ ÌÈ·˘ÂÁ ‡˘Ó ¯˙ÂÈ ‰·¯‰ ˙¯Ó‚ÂÓ ‰¯‰ˆ‰Î ڷˉ ÏÚ ·Â˘ÁÏ ÌÈË ÂÁ‡ Æ˙È˙ÎÏ˘‰ ˙‰„ʉ ˙ÂÚˆÓ‡· ¨ÈÏ·¯Â–‰¯Ù ÔÙ‡· Ì‰È˘ ÌÚ Ìȯ˘˜˙Ó Â‡ „ÂÚ· ¨Ì„‡‰ Ï˘ ‰˙ȇ˘ ¨Ì„‡–„È· ‰¯ÈˆÈ Ï˘ ‰¯˜Ó· Ï·‡ ¨˙ÂÈÂÂÁ‰ È˙˘ ÍÂ˙Ï ÂÓˆÚ ˙‡ ÌÈÎÈÏ˘Ó ÂÁ‡ –ÏÚ ¯ˆÂ˘ ˘Èȷ‡‰˘Î Ư˙ÂÈ ‰‰Â·‚ ˙È˙ÎÏ˘‰‰ ˙‰„ʉ‰ ¨¯˙ÂÈ ‰Ï„‚ ˙ÂÙ˙¢ ÂÏ ˘È ‡Â‰˘Î ¨ÌÏ˘‰Ó ·‡ÂÎ ÔÙ‡· ˜˙ÂÓ ¨Ô„ÈÚ ¯ÒÁ ‡Â‰ ®‰ÂÎÓ È„È–ÏÚ ÏÏΠͯ„·© Ì„‡‰ È„È ‰Ë ˙Óω‰ ˙È˙ÎÏ˘‰‰ ˙‰„ʉ‰ ¨ÂÓˆÚ ‰Ùˆ‰ Ë·Ó‰ Ï˘ ‰ÈˆËÓ‚¯Ù ÏÚ ÚÈ·ˆÓ ˙‡ ÏȈ‰Ï ‡Â‰ ˙ÂÓ‡‰ Ï˘ ȯ˜ÈÚ‰ „ȘÙ˙‰ ÆÆÆ“ÌÈȯ‡ÊÈ· ÌÈ˘Èȷ‡” ‡¯˜ Ô«Èa˘ ‰Ó ¯ÂˆÈÏ ¯ÂˆÈÏ ¨ÂÓˆÚ ‰Ùˆ‰ Ì˘·Â ˘Èȷ‡‰ Ì˘· ¯‡ÊÈ·‰ „ÓÚÓÓ Ì„‡–„È· ¯ˆÂ˘ ÌÈ˘Èȷ‡‰ ¨˘„ÁÓ ·ÏÂ˘È˘ ®ËÓ‚¯Ù© ȘÏÁ ˘Èȷ‡ Ï˘ ‰„‰˙ ¨Ì„‡–„È· ¯ˆÂ˘ ˘Èȷ‡‰ ÌÚ „ÁÈ· ÌÈÂÂÁ ‡˘Î ÂÏ˘ ˙ÂÎÏ˘‰‰Ó ¯¯ÁÂ˘Ó ¨ÂÓˆÚ ˙ÂÎÊ· „ÓÂÚ˘ ÌÏ˘ ˘Èȷ‡ ÔÎÓ ¯Á‡Ï ÆÂ˙‡ ÛÂËÚÏ Â˙ÈÈËÏ ˘ÁÎ˙Ó ¨Â˙‡ Adrian Stokes, “The Invitation in Art,” The Critical Writings of Adrian Stokes (London: Thames & Hudson, 1978), III, 286
1
Ibid., 287
2
Edmond and Jules de Goncourt, “Painting at the Exposition of 1855,” The Art of All Nations 1850-73: The Emerging Role of Exhibitions and Critics, ed. Elizabeth Gilmore Holt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981), 136. In a famous passage, still relevant today, the Goncourt brothers write: “It is when nature is condemned to death, when industry dismembers it, when iron roads plow it, when it is violated from one pole to another, when the city invades the field, when industry pens
3
15
±Adrian Stokes¨ “The Invitation in Art” ‰¯˘Ú–Ú˘˙‰ ‰‡Ó‰ ÛÂÒ ˙‡¯˜Ï ÌÈÈÈ·· ¯ÂÚÈΉ ¨¯‡Â¯ Ï˘ Â˙Ú„Ï˘ ÌÈÚ„ÂÈ ÂÁ‡ Æ˙ÂÓÁÏÓÓ ¯˙ÂÈ ‰·¯‰ ‰Ï„‚ ‰ÎÒ Âȉ ·Á¯ ˘ÂÓÈ˘· ÌȈÙÁ Ï˘ ·ÂˆÈÚ‰ Ï˘ ˙Âȯ‚ωÂ
≤Adrian Stokes¨ “The Invitation in Art”
Ê‡Ó ¯ÎÂÓ ÁÂÓ ‡Â‰ “ÈËÈÂÙ¯˙‰ ڷˉ” ¨Ô· ƯÈÚ‰
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‡Â‰ ÆÆÆڷˉ“˘ ±∏μμ–· ÂÊȯΉ ¯Â˜Â‚ ‰„ ÒÏ‘Ê „ÂÓ„‡˘
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È·ÂÏÎÓ ÌÈËÏÓ ¨¯ÈÚÏ ıÂÁÓ ˘Ó˘‰ ȯ˜· ÌÓˆÚ ÌÓÁÏ
˙„ÓÂÚ˘ ‰¯È˙Ò‰ ȉÂÊ ≠ Í„È‡Ó ®Ì„‡‰ È„È–ÏÚ „·ÂÚÓ Ì‡
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È·ÂÏΔ ̉ ¯‡˙Ó ¯·Â˜˘ ÌÈÈ·¯Â‡‰ ÌÈ·Ó‰ ̇‰
Ìȇ¯ ڷˉ ¯ÈÚ‰ ·˘ ¨È¯„ÂÓ‰ Ô„ÈÚ· ̈Ú˙‰ ‡Â‰
Ï·‡ ¨‡ÏΖÈ˙· ÂÓÎ ÌÈ„„·Ó ÌÈ¯Â‚Ò Ì‰ ≠ ‡Ï ÔÎ ø“Ô·‡
≠ ÌÈ˙ÚÏ ÌÈ˘‚٠̉ ̇ Ì‚ ¨ÌÚÙ–È‡Ó ¯˙ÂÈ ÌÈÎÒÎÂÒÓ
Ú·ˆ·Â ¯Â‡· ÌȘ‰Â· ̉ ¨Ì‰ÂÓÎ ÌȯÚÂÎÓ Â‡ ÌÈÓÈÈ‡Ó ‡Ï
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˙ÂÁÎÂ Ì‰Ï ÌȘÈÚÓ˘ ¨¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ڷˉ ÈÙ ÂÓÎ ¨ÊÚ
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¨¯ÎÂÓ‰ ‰‡¯ÓÏ ˘ÁÎ˙‰Ï ÈÏ·Ó ¨‰‡È¯· ÂÏÈÙ‡ ¨‰ÓÈÚ
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Ï˘ Ìȇȯ·–‡Ï‰Â ÌÈÁÂ˙Ó‰ ÌÈÈÁ· „·È‡˘ ˙‡ȯ·‰
x 38C474/
Utopia, 2009, 60x72
14
x ;123 I?8C@ 13
Flagship, 2010, 60x72
x F84H400 8G408E GC@ I80 11
Public School in Bushwick, 2009-10, 60x72
9
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ÌÈÓÒ¯ÂÙÓ‰ ÌȘÈȇ‰ ÔÓ ˙·Î¯ÂÓ ‡Ï ‡È‰Â ‰ÈÂÏ‚ ‡Ï ‡È‰ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ¨ÌÈ¯Â‚Ó ÈÈÈ· Ư˙ÂÈ ˙ÈÓÈËȇ ¯ÈÚ ‡È‰ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ Æ¯ÈÚ‰ Ï˘ ¯˙ÂÈ· –ÂÈ È‰ÂÊ ª˙ÂÂ΢· ÏÒ¯Â„Î È˘¯‚Ó ¨Ìȯ˘‚ ¯‰· ˙¯·Â„ ªÌȘ¯‡Ù ˙ÂÂÏÁ ¨˙ÂÈÂÁ Æ·ÏÏ ˙Ú‚Â ÍΖÏÎ ‡È‰ ÔÎÏ ‰È·˘Â˙ ȇ¯· ÂÓÎ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ¨ÍΖÏÎ ˙ÈË˙‡‰ ˜¯ÂÈ ˙ÂÈÒÎ ÈÁȯˆ Ï˘ ªÌÈÓ„‡ ÌÈ˙· Ï˘Â Ì‰È˙Âȇ˘Ó· ÌÈÏÈ·ÂÓ‰ Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È‰ÂÊ ˙·Î¯ Ï˘Â Ì‰È˙·Ï ‰ÒÈη ÌÈËÂ˘Ù ÌÈ˘‡ Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È‰ÂÊ Æ˙¯Ó˙ÈÓ ˙·¯‡ Ï˘Â ¨ÔÓ‡‰ Ï˘ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ‰ ˙ÂÈÓÈËȇ ÍÂ˙Ó ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È‰ÂÊ ¨ÔΠÆÌÈ¯Â‚Ó ˙ÂÂ΢ ‰ˆÂÁ‰ ¨˙ÈÏÈÚ –ÂÈ Æ¯Â‡ Ï˘Â ıȘ Ï˘Â ÂÈ˙Ò Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ ÆÌÈÓÁ‰Â Ô‚ÂÓ‰ ÏÏÁ‰ ÍÂ˙Ó ‰ˆÂÁ‰ ‰Ùˆ‰ ÆÌÏ˘ ¯Â˘Ú Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ ˙„·ڷ ˙„˜Ó˙Ó‰ ‰ÈÈ˘‰ ‰Î¯Ú˙‰ ‡È‰ ¨‰Ê ¯ÙÒ· ‰ÂÂÏÓ‰ ¨ÂÊ ‰Î¯Ú˙ ≤∞∞μ ˙˘· ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚· ‰Î¯Ú ‰Â˘‡¯‰ ‰Î¯Ú˙‰ Ư·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈÓ Æ‰˘ Ïη ÌÈ˘„ÂÁ ¯ÙÒÓ ¨˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ· ‰¯ÈˆÈ Ï˘ ÌÏ˘ ¯Â˘Ú ˙ÂÙÈ˜Ó ÂÈ„ÁÈ Ô‰È˙˘Â Û‰ ȯÂȈ „ˆ· Ư·Â˜ χÎÈÓ Ï˘ Â˙¯ÈˆÈ· ¯·ÎÓ ‰Ê ÌÈÁΠÌÈÈÈ· ‡ ÌÈ˙· Ï˘ ‰ÚÈ‚ Ì‚ Ô·˙ÓÏ ‰˙È ¨ÌÈ˘‰ Í¯Â‡Ï ÌȯÎÂÓ ÍΖÏÂΉ ˜ÓÚ ¯‰ ¨¯·„Ó Ï˘ ˙ÂÈÂÚ·ˆÏ ‰Ùˆ‰ Û˘Á ®ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ¨±π∏±© ¢‰ÊÚ· ÌÈ˙·¢ ‰Î¯Ú˙· ¯·Î Æ˙ÂÈ·¯Â‡ ¯Â˘Ú· ¨˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ· ‰¯ÈˆÈ‰ ˙¢· ÆÌȯÓÈÈ˙Ó ‡Ï‰Â ÌÈȘ‰ ÌȘϠ˙ÈËÈÓ„‰ ‰ÈÂÓ¯‰· ÌȇˆÓ ¯˘‡ ÌÈÈÚ·ȯ Ú·ˆ ÈÁˢÓ ˙ÂÊÚ ÏÂÁÎÓ ˙ÂÎÈ˘Ó Ì‚ ÂÙÒ ¨Ô¯Á‡‰ ÆÈ·¯Â‡‰ Û· ÌÈÓ ˜¯È ÈÁˢÓÏ „Ú ÌȘ¯‡Ù ͯ„ ÌÈÈÈ·Ó ¨ÌÈ¢ ÌÈ˘Èȷ‡ ÌÚ Û‡Â ÌÈÎÈËÙÈ¯Ë ¨ÌÈÎÈËÙÈ„· ˘ÂÓÈ˘· ˙·¯‰Ï ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ‰ÈÈˉ ‰¯·‚ ¨ÌÈ˘‰ ÌÚ ¨˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈÓ ˙„·ڷ ‡˜Â„ ¨ÂÊ ‰˜ÈÎË· ˘ÂÓÈ˘‰ ÆÌȘÏÁ Ï˘ ¯˙ÂÈ ·¯ ¯ÙÒÓÓ ˙„·ڷ ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ Æ‰¯ÈˆÈ· ÌÈ¢ ÌȘÏÁ ÔÈ· ¯Â·ÈÁ‰Â ·ÂÏÈ˘‰ ÈÎÈω˙Ï Ì¯Â˙ ˘˜·˙Ó ‡Â‰ Æ‰Ï˘ ˙ÂÈ˙ÈÓ‡‰ ‰„ÓÁ‰ ˙ÂÈ΢ ¯Á‡ ¯Â˙Ï Ô·˙Ó‰ ˙‡ ‰˙ÙÓ ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ÂÈ˙„·ڷ ¨ÌÈÚˆÓ‡ ˙¯ÒÁ ˙ÂÈÒÂÏÎÂ‡Ï ÌÈ˘È¯ÙÎ ÂӘ‰ ¯˘‡ ÌÈÈÈ· ͯ„ ¨¯‰‰ ÏÚ ‰¯·Â„Ó „Ú·Ó ¯·Â˜ Ï˘ ˙·˙‰‰ ˙ÈÈÂÂÁÏ Ì¯Â˙ ¯˘‡ ÔÓ‡‰ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ· ÈÓÈËȇ ¯Â˜È·Ï „Ú ÈÈÈ· χ ¨‰Ï˘ ÚȘ¯‰ ˜ χ ¨˙‡Ê‰ ‰·È‰¯Ó‰ ¯ÈÚ‰ Ï˘ ˜˜Â˘‰ ÌÏÂÚ‰ χ ÔÂÏÁÏ ÍΖÏΠˉÂω ¯È‡‰ ‚ÊÓ ˙ÂÚÙ˘‰ ͯ„ ‰Ï ÌÈÈÈÈÙ‡ ÍΖÏÂΉ ˙ÂÓ„‡‰ Ìȷω ÆÛ¯ÂÁ· ¯ÂÙ‡‰Â ‡ÈÙ˜Ó‰ ¨ıȘ·
! x x x =<;G<K; ;1G42:3 HG1=
The Field (triptych), 2005, 50x28 / 52x30 / 50x28
x FC4/0H G3?3
River on the Horizon, 2010, 48x72
6
¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ≤∞±∞≠≤∞∞± ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È¯ÂȈ
¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ ≤∞±∞≠≤∞∞± ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È¯ÂȈ ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚
ËÈ· È·‚ ∫¯ˆÂ‡ ÛÈȯ‚ ‰Ù„ ∫‰˜Ù‰Â ÈÙ¯‚ ·ÂˆÈÚ ‰Â¯˜ ÒȯΠ¨‚ˆ¯‰ Ô· ¨ÈÙÏÁ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ ¨ÈÁ È·‡ ∫ÌÈÓÂψ˙ ÈÙÏÁ ÂÈ„ÂËÒ ∫‰ÂÓ˙ Ȅ·ÈÚ ÒÂÙ„ ˙¯˙Ù ÈÙÏÁ ∫‰ÒÙ„‰Â ˙ÂÁÂÏ
˛≤≥ ßÓÚ¸ ±∞∞ ßÁ¯ ∫˙ȯ·Ú ‰ÙÈËÚ ˛¥≥≠¥≤ ßÓÚ¸ ˙·Î¯‰ ÈÒÙÏ ˙Á˙Ó ∫˙ÈÏ‚‡ ‰ÙÈËÚ ‰·Â‚ x ·Á¯ ¨Ó¢Ò· ˙ȯ·Ú· ˙„ÈÓ‰ ‰·Â‚ x ·Á¯ ¨ÌÈ߈ȇ· ˙ÈÏ‚‡· ˙„ÈÓ‰ ˙¯Á‡ ÔÈȈ ̇ ‡Ï‡ ¨„· ÏÚ ÔÓ˘ ≠ ˙„·ډ ÏÎ
ÔӇϠËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚Ï ˙ÂÙ˙Â˘Ó ˙ÂÈÂÎʉ © ≤∞±∞ χ¯˘È· Òل‰
ËÈ· ‰È¯Ï‚ ·È·‡≠Ï˙ ¨±μ ÔÓ˘È¯Ù ·ÂÁ¯
www.binethgallery.com ∞≥≠μ≤¥∞∏μ≥ ∫ßÒ˜Ù ∞≥≠μ≤≥∏π±∞ ∫ÔÂÙÏË
x x =<;G<6 F844H40 I:8@? !
Princess of Bushwick (diptych), 2009, 60x48x2
3
≤∞±∞≠≤∞∞± ˜¯ÂÈ–ÂÈ È¯ÂȈ ¯·Â˜ χÎÈÓ
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