Monthly Archives: November, 2004

Carl Hammer Gallery, who has managed the estate of Henry Darger for the past 13 years, presented some of the last works to be bought by collectors and museums in a densely hung show of drawn, painted, and collaged examples from the artist's lifelong visual and literary project, "The Story of the Vivian Girls, in what is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion."

Rosemarie Fiore's drawings, on display through December 4 at Bodybuilder and Sportsman Gallery, cleverly reveal that a machine, the Scrambler amusement park ride in this case, can be effectively employed as an artist's tool.

Carl Hammer Gallery, who has managed the estate of Henry Darger for the past 13 years, presented some of the last works to be bought by collectors and museums in a densely hung show of drawn, painted, and collaged examples from the artist's lifelong visual and literary project, "The Story of the Vivian Girls, in what is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion."

While not literally mimicking the Panopticon, the various gallery districts continue to operate on Foucault's definition from an outsider's point of view. The galleries exist as the open cells which do not interact with one another because of the paranoia that viewers entering into the spaces will view immoral activities-promiscuous sexual escapades, drug deals out of the back room, gossip, or worst of all technically or conceptually void art, resulting in punishment (a negative review, loss of a sale).

John Fisher gave me the dead bat in a mason jar for Valentines. I had accepted it, trying to be cool, fully aware that my hands were trembling against the jar glass. I knew that boys were into these things so I tried to be cool. I puffed up my chest and crossed my arms, remembering that this is how my dad stood [...]

Who can help but let out the slightest of sighs when an ambitious underdog of an institution closes its doors and its most choice pieces, treasured as only favorite children are, are sent to live with their southern relatives, most likely to hereafter be seen as just a few more stars in an already mostly warehoused galaxy.

Who can help but let out the slightest of sighs when an ambitious underdog of an institution closes its doors and its most choice pieces, treasured as only favorite children are, are sent to live with their southern relatives, most likely to hereafter be seen as just a few more stars in an already mostly warehoused galaxy.

Robert Storr Makes Jabs at Art History and Museum's Priorities

Chicago is home to a number of prestigious alternative art schools. Many are not-for-profit organizations that offer classes and memberships for participants, and a surprising number of the faculty and students of these establishments come from SAIC.

I had been struggling to find the motivation to paint since the first warm day of summer vacation. Inspiration came at 2 a.m. one night in June while watching a rerun of the 1996 National Spelling Bee Championship on ESPN Classic. It was one of those days when I had slept until noon and looked at my art supplies from the couch in a malaise.

Interview with Norwegian conceptual artist about his 24-hour sound piece "9 Beet Stretch"

The way things are going, the chances that your choice for president will be in the White House are approximately fifty-fifty. With roughly half of eligible Americans voting, that leaves about 150,000 people to live in political discontent for the next four years, including the toddlers who wear XXXS t-shirts proudly showcasing the political commitment of their parents while scratching that nasty diaper rash.

So you've had a bad day. You're angry. You come home from your last exhausting critique with flies hovering over the dirty dishes and a solitary box of baking soda in your refrigerator. You're extremely hungry, it's 12:30 in the morning and you can't remember the last time you talked to your friends and family.

So you've had a bad day. You're angry. You come home from your last exhausting critique with flies hovering over the dirty dishes and a solitary box of baking soda in your refrigerator. You're extremely hungry, it's 12:30 in the morning and you can't remember the last time you talked to your friends and family.