A couple weeks ago, my boyfriend and I decided to do a whirlwind tour of the Chelsea galleries in the two hours between getting off of work and the galleries closing for the day. A co-worker of ours who is also a working artist jokingly told him to choose his favorite gallery and write a paragraph about it, so I’m here to give my take on the exhibit he chose.
While dashing ill-prepared through the rain, we stumbled into an inviting, yellow-walled haven of warmth merely 15 minutes before close. Despite us barging in so late, the woman manning the gallery was almost unbelievably welcoming, excitedly making conversation about the art, artist, and the art world in general.
Deconstructing Allusion was the title of the exhibit that we wandered into, the brainchild of artist Greg Miller. His work is comprised of collage based off his interpretation of 50s Americana. It holds your attention and brings up feelings of nostalgia, even if you never lived through that period of time.
Overall the gallery is one of my favorites for sure, reminding me of the gallery that exhibited my high school’s senior show, with the colored walls feeling like a breath of fresh air after all the white-walled galleries! There’s plenty of seating, the receptionist is friendly and knowledgeable, and the whole gallery feels warm and inviting.
JoAnne Artman Gallery
511 West 22nd St, New York, NY 10011
Open Tues- Sat 10-6p
326 North Coast Highway, Laguna Beach, CA 92651
Open Wed- Sun 11-5p
I’ve been a little removed from my blog for multiple reasons- between work and actually going out to look at art, it’s become difficult to find the time to sit down and write about it. This weekend I was privileged to work as an artist’s assistant for a lovely artist by the name of Yasi Alipour for a downtown Manhattan arts festival.
Hey all! I apologize for the delay in the September gallery review, I’ve been fairly busy in my personal life as of late (including some upcoming projects that I’ll talk about later). This month I’d love to take a moment to briefly talk about a tiny little gallery just in SoHo.
Yesterday I got to hold $6000-$9000 (estimate, they’re up for auction soon) worth of art by one of my favorite artists. I was able to pick up a cast bronze bust by Egon Schiele and feel with my own thumbs how he would’ve built up the form in the original clay, gently but decidedly pressed in two lumps of clay to create the eyes with just enough detail for your brain to know exactly what they represent. I was allowed to lift up the protective matting on one of his smaller drawings and closely inspect the linework that I’ve only seen reproduced online or in my art history books.
Recently I began volunteering as a “gallery babysitter” at a tiny space in the middle of the Essex Street Market in NYC. When I first wandered in to see the space, I was ecstatic to see one of the contemporary artists they’re currently featuring has been a favorite of mine for some time.
Since my last review was pretty undeniably glowing, I figured this month I’d share what I believe to be one of my least favorite galleries by far.
Now, before I start I’m with the negatives, it really wasn’t all bad. The receptionists were polished, the art was colorful, and there were some places to sit. Unfortunately, that didn’t do much to change my overall opinion of the gallery.
In late 18th century Europe, there weren’t many options available for artists looking to exhibit their work. You either painted in the style approved by the Salons and submitted to their juried shows, or you didn’t exhibit.
One artist, Asmus Jakob Carstens, decided that was too limiting, and that the popular artwork of that time had gone down the drain. He was appalled by the lack of reverence to the former masters and the recent shift from focusing on technical skill and draftsmanship to color without solid foundation.