Posts from the “1990s” Category

The 5 Art Shows You Need to See This Fall

Posted on September 19, 2017

Photo; Dawoud Bey. A Boy in Front of the Loew’s 125th Street Movie Theater 1976, Printed by 1979. Gelatin Silver print 230 x 150. Featured in “States of America: Photography from the Civil Rights Movement to the Reagan Era“

Philippe Halsman, A Paragon of Beauty, Dalí’s Moustache, 1953-54.
Vintage photomontage print. 35.3 x 23.5 cm. Philippe Halsman Archive, New York © Philippe Halsman Archive. From “Dali/Duchamp”

Fall is when everything begins, as the new season kicks into gear and people get in the swing of things. As your calendar fills up, there’s no better time to get away from it all and dip into a museum to catch an exhibition that will inspire the soul and inflame the mind. Crave spotlights five of the best new shows opening this season, each one a phenomenal collection of art and ideas.

States of America: Photography from the Civil Rights Movement to the Reagan Era

The history of the United States is a multifaceted mosaic of experiences, tiled together around a fragile center that exploded in civil war in the nation’s first hundred years. In its second century, it was rocked over and over again by peoples determined to live into the rights guaranteed under the Constitution against those who would deny them. From the 1960s through the 1980s, the nation faced some of its greatest challenges, from the Civil Rights Movement, which spawned the Women’s and Gay Liberation Movements, to the devastation of COINTELPRO and a government that willfully used illegal measures to destroy its people from within.

Looking back at what was and the promises of what might have been, Nottingham Contemporary, UK, presents States of America: Photography from the Civil Rights Movement to the Reagan Era, a collections of 250 photographs by 16 American masters, now on view through November 26, 2017. Among the artists featured are Crave faves Diane Arbus, Dawoud Bey, Mark Cohen, Bruce Davidson, Louis Draper, William Eggleston, Lee Friedlander, Jim Goldberg, Danny Lyon, Mary Ellen Mark, Stephen Shore, and Garry Winogrand.

Read the Full Story at Crave Online

From Martin Wong: Human Instamatic

Categories: 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Art, Crave, Exhibitions, Painting, Photography

Stephen Barker: The ACT UP Portraits – Activists & Avatars, 1991–1994

Posted on September 15, 2017

Photo: Mark Harrington, copyright Stephen Barker

Halston. Robert Mapplethorpe. Keith Haring. Freddie Mercury. Eazy E. Antonio Lopez. Martin Wong. David Wojnarowicz. Herb Ritts. The list goes on – and on. More than 675,000 people have died of Aids-related illnesses since the epidemic first hit in 1981, devastating a generation coming-of-age in the wake of the gay, civil rights, and women’s liberation movements of the 1960s and 70s.

Where it was once an all-consuming force decimating lives, survivors of the terror and trauma rarely revisit those horrific times. It is difficult to express the scale and scope of the agony of illness and the pain of death that happened day after day, year after year, for decades. Imagine a funeral for friends and family every week. Envision the fear spread by misinformation and ignorance, in the wake of a government that turned its back on the victims of the virus.

During the first four years of the crisis, President Ronald Reagan never said a word about the disease, which had infected nearly 60,000 people – 28,000 of whom had died. In 1987, Senator Jesse Helms amended a federal bill to prohibit Aids education, saying such efforts “encourage or promote homosexual activity.”

The battle lines were drawn: it was the people vs. the government.

In 1987, ACT UP (Aids Coalition to Unleash Power) was formed in response. Organised as a leaderless network of committees working with affinity groups, members of ACT UP took it upon themselves to battle the disease and the government firsthand. Their slogan, “Silence = Death,” became the rallying cry for activists, who, to paraphrase poet Dylan Thomas, refused to go gently into the night. They raged until their actions turned the tide.

ACT UP took on every aspect of the crisis, coming up with grassroots solutions to clearly defined problems. Photographer Stephen Barker worked as part of ACT UP’s Needle Exchange Program on New York’s Lower East Side. He also participated in the first “Funeral March,” one of the most powerful public protests against the regime, wherein Mark Fisher’s body was carried in an open coffin from Judson Memorial Church to the steps of the Republican National Committee on the eve of the 1992 presidential election.

Barker’s photographs made during these actions, along with a selection from the “Nightswimming” series made in places where men regularly went for trysts, will be on view in the exhibition Stephen Barker: The ACT UP Portraits – Activists & Avatars, 1991–1994, at Daniel Cooney Fine Art, New York (September 14 – October 28, 2017). Below, he speaks with us about the lessons he learned in the fight for life and the war against death.

Read the Full Story at Dazed

Photo; Funeral March, copyright Stephen Barker

Categories: 1980s, 1990s, Art, Dazed, Manhattan, Photography

An Incomplete History of Protest: Selections From the Whitney’s Collection, 1940–2017

Posted on August 21, 2017

Carol Summers (1925-2016), Kill for Peace, 1967, from ARTISTS AND WRITERS PROTEST AGAINST THE WAR IN VIET NAM, 1967. Screenprint and photo-screenprint with punctures on board, 23 3/8 × 19 1/4 in. (59.4 × 48.9 cm). Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; purchase, with funds from the Print Committee 2006.50.14 © Alexander Ethan Summers

“Tyranny naturally arises out of democracy,” Plato observed in Republic, revealing the underlying paradox of humanity: the will of the masses will eventually lead to oppression in one form or another.

The Founding Fathers of the United States knew this better than most, perhaps knowing themselves well enough to understand that he corrupt seek power and will do whatever it takes to gain the upper hand, whether that means scripting blatant hypocrisies into The Declaration of Independence or advocating for armed rebellion in the Second Amendment.

Perhaps most telling above all was their insistence on protest, of “the right of the people to peaceably assemble and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances,” which closes out the First Amendment of the Constitution.

Undoubtedly, they understood that the nation, founded on stolen land using stolen people, was a ticking time bomb, one that could easily blow up lest any group gain advantage over the other. The will of the people, such as it were, is not inherently “good”—nor moral. It is merely self-serving and invested in appearance politics above all.

Within this space, the act of protest is designed to call attention to that which it perceives as wrong, using the power of the people to make its point in the most public manner possible. As we have seen from recent events in Charlottesville, protest is not intrinsically honest or honorable; it is simply the will of the masses to stand in their beliefs, however valid or flawed.

Hock E Aye VI Edgar Heap of Birds. Relocate Destroy, In Memory of Native Americans, In Memory of Jews, 1987 Pastel on paper Sheet: 22 × 29 13/16in. (55.9 × 75.7 cm). Gift of Dorothee Peiper-Riegraf and Hinrich Peiper 2007.91

But what protest does is let us know: those who will not be silenced and are compelled to have their words heard and their faces shown; that which we celebrate and that which we vilify are simply extensions of our own principles, character, and moral fiber.

In times of strife, artists often take to the frontlines, eager to use their skills in the service of the cause. As 2017 slogs along relentlessly, more and more artists, curators, galleries, museums, and organizations find themselves compelled to make a stand. To find a way to look to the lessons of the past to figure out solutions to the present day; to consider why we are doomed to repeat the wars of the past with new technological possibilities more horrific than ever before.

And, perhaps, inspired to energize and activate those who are simply overwhelmed, disinformed, or have lost their way. History recurs simply because the solutions we sought did not hold; they were simply tenuous measures used to placate the crisis at hand, and over the ensuing years easily wore thin. The solutions require a paradigm change, one that goes beyond shadowboxing with lies and debating disinformation. Solutions require truth, however gruesome it may be, about the corporate project that is the United States of America.

But first, before we ravage the deeply held dreams of the delusional, a little reflection on the past and the ways in which protest can be used to stand against legalized tyranny. The Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, presents An Incomplete History of Protest: Selections From the Whitney’s Collection, 1940–2017.

Guerrilla Girls (est. 1985), Guerrilla Girls Review the Whitney, 1987. Offset lithograph, 22 × 17 in. (55.9 × 43.2 cm). Purchase 2000.91 © Guerrilla Girls

The exhibition looks at the ways in which people have organized in resistance and refusal, strikes and boycotts, anti-war movements, equal rights actions, and to fight the AIDS crisis. The artworks selected span the gamut from posters, flyers, and photographs to ad campaigns, paintings, and screenprints.

Featuring works by artists including Richard Avedon, Larry Clark, Lous H. Draper, Larry Fink, Theaster Gates, Gran Fury, Guerilla Girls, Keith Haring, Barbara Kruger, Glenn Ligon, Toyo Miyatake, Gordon Parks, Ad Reinhardt, Faith Ringgold, Dread Scott, and Gary Simmons, among others—the exhibition is as much a study in politics as it is contemporary American art.

The more you look, the more you see how iconography informs our belief system and the ways in which propaganda can be used in the fight against exploitation. Simply put, it’s not enough to tell the truth. Reality is simply to terrifying, and most people would prefer to bury their heads in the sand than face the stark prospect of a revolution that is without beginning or end.

“All art is propaganda,” George Orwell deftly observed, leading by example with his novels, critical essays, and insights into the nature of wo/man as political animal. When taken as a whole, An Incomplete History of Protest offers more than just a look back at the past: it also shows us how to activate people by appealing to their emotions.

For above all, people react; action simply requires more effort than most are willing to put forth, but reaction—whew! Try to stop the avalanche once it starts. Art, in as much as it is perceived by the senses before it is understood by the mind, is one of the most primal, visceral paths to stir the heart. And so An Incomplete History of Protest reminds us: if you want to move the people, how you say it may be even more important than what you say—and there’s no use fighting it.

Toyo Miyatake (1895–1979), Untitled (Opening Image from Valediction), 1944. Gelatin silver print mounted on board, 9 7/16 × 7 5/16 in. (24 × 18.6 cm). Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; purchase with funds from the Photography Committee 2014.243 © Toyo Miyatake Studio

Categories: 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Art, Exhibitions, Photography

Dave Schubert: Photos from the Underground

Posted on August 11, 2017

Photo: © Dave Schubert

Photo: © Dave Schubert

When Dave Schubert was six years old, his father gave him a camera – and he hasn’t put it down since. As the son of a military man and an English mod, Schubert was drawn to anti-authoritarian subcultures. He started writing graffiti after watching The Warriors and skipping school to head up to New York, where he photographed the underground skate scene at the banks by City Hall.

He started shooting for Slap magazine and realised that doing commercial work made him lose his natural instincts. In the 90s, he moved out to San Francisco to go to school and returned to the art of street photography. In the 20 years since he’s been out west, he’s seen the city transform. Once upon a time, there were gun battles right outside his door; today, Silicon Valley computer nerds rock Star Wars t-shirts at the bar.

“I’m only staying here out of spite,” Schubert laughs. “I really want to go somewhere and get my own Unabomber cabin, not be around anyone, and make prints all day long.”

That day may come but until then, Schubert shoots and scores, living as an artist on his own terms. His photographs capture the essence of rebellion, the freedom to create and destroy, the pleasures of sex, drugs, and art, and the spirit of “never say die.” He speaks with us about the pictures he’s made – and the ones that got away.

Read the Full Story at Dazed

Photo: © Dave Schubert

Photo: © Dave Schubert

Categories: 1990s, Dazed, Graffiti, Photography

Dissecting the Political Impact of Acid House

Posted on August 10, 2017

Norman Jay MBW. Photographer unknown.

Back in 1979, in a Chicago nightclub called The Warehouse, DJ Frankie Knuckles helped incubate the nascent genre of house music. Taking its name from The Warehouse, house music spread through the US underground and around the globe, and in London, it transformed into something entirely new. The acid house movement combined the hippie spirit found on the island of Ibiza with the sensation of taking a trip, be an ecstasy pill, a hit of acid, or a plane ticket to a faraway land.

By 1987, acid house had taken UK by storm with an irrepressible, revolutionary energy that evoked the utopian vibes of the Summer of Love. Peace, love, respect, and unity were the order of the day, albeit within the confines of illegal parties that were cropping up across the country, drawing thousands of revelers from all walks of life who wanted nothing more than to dance through the dawn. But the acid house scene was more than a cosmic display of hedonism. It was a movement that subverted the racial and class boundaries of Margaret Thatcher’s seemingly endless premiership. Although its political impact is often overlooked, acid house united a deeply segregated society, and what’s more, it empowered those who have been written out of history to rise and come to the fore.

In celebration of the 30th anniversary of acid house, Sky Arts are broadcasting The Agony & The Ecstasy, a three-party documentary series that tells the story of the rave revolution through 40 seminal figures on the scene including superstar DJs Norman Jay MBE, Goldie MBE, Paul Oakenfold, and Dave Pearce, as well as producers, promoters, club owners, former police officers, and the unsung heroes of the scene.

Norman Jay MBE, one of the original godfathers of warehouse parties, first got his start at the tender age of eight, when he DJed a tenth birthday party. The Notting Hill, London native was born to Grenadian parents and came of age during the 1970s when collaborating with his brother with a reggae sound system they called Great Tribulation. A visit to New York City changed everything and they renamed the system Good Times, with a nod to Nile Rodgers’ disco band Chic. Good Times led the way as acid house came up, helping to spread the culture through the creation of London pirate radio station Kiss FM in 1985.

Norman Jay MBE spoke to Dazed about the political implications of acid house, and how the music forever changed the British landscape.

Read the Full Story at Dazed Digital

Categories: 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Dazed, Music

Screaming in the Streets: AIDS, Art, Activism

Posted on August 9, 2017

David Wojnarowicz, Democracy, 1990, Black-and-white silkscreen print, 23 x 20 inches, inches, Sold

Looking back at the AIDS crisis through the prism of history, the scale is so vast, the scope is broad, and the trauma is so real. They say time heals all wounds, but they were wrong. “The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” William Faulkner understood.

Two decades after the epidemic hit its zenith, we can now begin to look back, to reflect, to consider, discuss, and reflect on what happened, what it meant, and the lessons we can take as we enter a brave new world.

ClampArt and Ward5B present Screaming in the Streets: AIDS, Art, Activism, a new group show curated by Greg Ellis, currently on view at the gallery through September 23, 2017. The exhibition presents the work of artists including Peter Hujar, David Wojnarowicz, Keith Haring, Reinaldo Arenas, Jimmy De Sana, and many more, who are no longer with us—but their art lives on.

The exhibition also looks at radical spaces like the Pyramid Club, Boy Bar, Danceteria, The Club Baths, and other venues that became safe spaces for the community, but also grounds where intimate contact could propel the spread of the disease.

“There is a tendency for people affected by this epidemic to police each other or pre- scribe what the most important gestures would be for dealing with this experience of loss. I resent that. At the same time, I worry that friends will slowly become professional pallbearers, waiting for each death, of their lovers, friends and neighbors, and polishing their funeral speeches; perfecting their rituals of death rather than a relatively simple ritual of life such as screaming in the streets,” David Wojnarowiz observed, recognizing they many ways AIDS destroyed lives.

Yet, all was not lost for amid the horror, a beacon of hope that came about as AIDS activists took on the United States government and did not back down until they won. We speak with curator Greg Ellis about his vision for the show, the ways that art is used as a tool of agitation and community alike, and the lessons we can take forward.

Nan Goldin, Suzanne and Phillippe on the train, Long Island, NY, 1985, Cibachrome print
(Edition of 100), 16 x 20 inches.

I’m so pleased you are doing this show, as the AIDS crisis has been on my mind for the past few years, in part because I feel that so much time has passed, there’s a new generation that has grown up without any real knowledge or understanding of the past.

The other reason it’s been on my mind is upon reflection of how successful ACT UP was in forcing the government’s hand—lessons we can all benefit from as much today as back then. I wanted to begin by asking what was the inspiration or impetus for this show?

Greg Ellis: The inspiration for this show has always been the friends we lost during the epidemic; creative, talented, and fiercely independent people that helped shape our politics and love of the arts. We were also interested in illuminating the interpersonal relationships that link the many artists and queer spaces to the microbiological disaster that was unfolding.

Boy/Girl With Arms Akimbo and ACT UP were intentionally the jumping off point in this exhibition. What was important for us was illustrating the downtown art community’s activism that eventually resulted in these larger collectives. Wheatpasting, graffiti/stencil work, Xerography and film all were mediums that lent themselves to disseminating political messages in a way that was previously unavailable.

This heritage of radical NYC politics was already in place in groups like Colab and their historic Times Square Show. Many of the artists represented in this show also had pieces in the 1980 exhibition, including Cara Perlman, Keith Haring and Jack Smith. Downtown artists were already collaborating on political and social issues as the first cases of seroconversion began to be reported.

While AIDS affected so many people in the arts community, there has been a distinct absence of addressing the crisis since it occurred. May I ask, how do you account for the silence, as well as the resurgence of interest?

Greg Ellis: We’ve included as the theoretical framework for the show Laura Cottingham’s essay, Notes on Lesbian. She speaks about the many ways the broader culture “erases” sexual minorities and other marginalized communities from the public record – whether through the exclusion in cultural histories or familial erasure in the disposal of material/memories related to homosexual family members and their partners.

And while I believe this erasure did occur in many ways during the epidemic, I think it is a bit more complex with the AIDS crisis, primarily because it was such an emotionally and psychologically disfiguring trauma for those that survived.

Time is a great healer, but the reality has been that addressing the overwhelming emptiness takes decades, as is common with those that have lived through wartime. What was so disquieting is that it hit a small, targeted minority so heavily, resulting in the deaths of so many lovers and friends. Some silence though is preferred. After the initial attacks on our civil liberties through hotly contested ballot measures and the homophobia of immoral nuts like Jesse Helms, their prejudice was quieted.

Crisco Disco, c. 1970s-80s, Bar sign from original club on 11th Avenue in Manhattan (Silkscreen), 22 x 25 inches.

The subject is so vast and profound, having affected tens of thousands of people from all walks of life in a wide number of ways. How did you conceptualize the exhibition in terms of what you wanted to cover as well as which artists and works you wanted to showcase?

Greg Ellis: It is a very personal show. I believe if the show affects people, that is the reason why. Everybody loses loved ones, and they create personal shrines for them. That is what the exhibition attempts to do, as well.

Every piece in the show can be linked to another work with very few degrees of separation due to the collaborative working relationships of the downtown arts community, along with the limited options available to those pushed into the margins. Ethyl Eichelberger, Ken Tisa, Peter Hujar, David Wojnarowicz, and the others all shared close relationships within this tight knit circle. In fact much of the collection comes either directly from the artists or from their lovers and friends. And many of the pieces were gifts from the artists to fellow PWAs.

We included memorial ephemera to punctuate the show with the ultimate indignity of what transpired. The title of the exhibit comes from a passage in David Wojnarowicz’s memoirs that highlight the importance of eulogizing the dead through direct action. David was right. As he became sicker I think the sense was that his artwork and AIDS activism became more intertwined.

The work in the show conveys this sense of uniting activism with art. Mark Morrisroe was creating work from his hospital bed, documenting his physical decline while also using x-rays and his waning medical condition as a muse. They are powerful images of the disease, and bold statements of an artist using their own body as an agent of activism. This was taken a step further with the political funerals, and ashes actions of ACT UP.

I’m particularly interested in the focus on radical spaces, as this is something that powerfully speaks to the times in which we live. Could you speak about the importance of having an actual space where the community can meet to connect to deal with the crisis? Could you also address the double-edged nature of these spaces—it seems so surreal to imagine that added layer, the very real threat of contagion, existing at the same time.

Greg Ellis: Fundraising during the height of the epidemic often took place in nightclubs, sex positive spaces and galleries. Art was utilized to provide awareness about the deadly new contagion and to raise funds for combating it as the official response was anemic. Bathhouses served as sites where progressive politics, social constructs and both private and professional contacts were made. It was at gallery openings, club performances and while cruising for sex where these relationships were often formed.

The trauma of course was that we were also risking exposure to the virus if we hadn’t embraced safe sex guidelines. And while the advent of harm reduction existed as early as 1983, when Joe Sonnabend, Michael Callen, and Richard Berkowitz penned How to Have Sex in an Epidemic, resistance to that message was strong.

People were scared and often compulsively returned to those places for sex and community. This occurred in backrooms, at the baths, and in nightclubs where people commingled, entertained and met one another. They were both highly sexual as well as creative spaces that allowed for personal expression – an unknown for most queer people prior to relocating to urban centers.

Keith Haring, Humiliation Victim, 1980, Xerox print, 8 x 10 inches.

Lastly, I’d love your insights on the relationship between art and activism, and the lessons we can learn from the past. What are the most critical aspects of this crisis that can benefit our communities today?

Greg Ellis: If we learned anything from the AIDS epidemic it was that we shouldn’t turn to the people that have oppressed us to save our lives. Audre Lorde addressed this idea in her 1984 essay, The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House. Turning to the government to save us while they still criminalized homosexuality proved to be a larger battle than anyone could have foreseen.

Artists tend to be activists by nature. Whether breaking new aesthetic ground or fighting against societal ills, they are our guiding lights in the darkest of times. That dynamism was especially clear when AIDS came to wreak havoc on their own. That we lost so many immensely talented voices in the heart of the major American urban centers, particularly NYC, unquestionably relates to the intellectual and cultural drought that has been felt for the past three decades.

Screaming in the Streets: AIDS, Art, Activism
Curated by Greg Ellis
On view at ClampArt, New York, now through September 23 2017

Ethyl Eichelberger/Peter Hujar | s.n.a.f.u. (Ethyl Eichelberger as Minnie the Maid). s.n.a.f.u. (Ethyl Eichelberger as Minnie the Maid). May/June 1987. Xerox copy (Photograph by Peter Hujar), 11 x 8.5 inches.

Categories: 1980s, 1990s, Art

~~ A Tribute to Arlene Gottfried ~~

Posted on August 9, 2017

“Only in New York, kids, only in New York.”

American columnist Cindy Adams’ famed bon mot could easily caption any number of photographs in the archive of Arlene Gottfried. Whether partying in legendary 1970s sex club Plato’s Retreat, hanging out at the Nuyorican Poet’s Café with Miguel Piñero, or singing gospel with the Eternal Light Community Singers on the Lower East Side, Arlene was there and has the pictures to prove it.

“Arlene was a real New Yorker who thrived on the energy of the city, roaming the streets and recording everything she felt through a deeply empathetic and loving lens,” Paul Moakley, Deputy Director of Photography at TIME observes.

It was in her beloved city that Arlene Gottfried drew her final breath. She died the morning of August 8, after a long illness that may have taken from her body but never from her heart. In the final years of her life, she experienced a renaissance with the publication of her fifth final book Mommie (powerHouse, 2015), sell-out exhibitions at Daniel Cooney Fine Art, New York, and the 2016 Alice Austen Award for the Advancement of Photography – all of which she attended to with a style all her own.

I put together a tribute to the legendary lady who has always felt like family to me for today’s Dazed.

Categories: 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Art, Books, Brooklyn, Dazed, Manhattan, Photography

The Jim Henson Exhibition

Posted on July 31, 2017

Jim Henson and Kermit the Frog in 1978 on the set of THE MUPPET MOVIE. Photo courtesy of The Jim Henson Company/MoMI. Kermit the Frog © Disney/Muppets.

My very first crush was on Animal, the wild-eyed drummer for Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem, the house band on The Muppet Show. I might have been somewhere around three or four, and Animal was the most relatable guy I had ever seen. He spoke no words and was a creature of pure id. That he was a rock star added to his allure, as his flying mane and choke chain.

You might think to yourself, perhaps this is a bit extreme for a children’s television show. But that’s the joy of The Muppet Show—it spoke to people of all ages at the same time, reaching different audiences without offending anyone. Jim Henson, the mastermind who created the show, skillfully weaved subversive humor into the classic vaudeville format, and then added the perfect twist: all the characters were puppets, and yet they were drawn from life.

Kermit the Frog, the soulful leader, was inspired by jazz trumpeter Kermit Ruffins; his girlfriend Miss Piggy was the perfect incarnation of the chauvinist pig, whose appearance during the 1970s exemplified the good, the bad, ad the ugly sides of the gender wars that had been raging for years. Fozzie the Bear was a classic Yiddish comedian who played the Borscht Belt and was woefully out of sync with the times yet as lovable as any wacky uncle at Thanksgiving dinner.

Children might miss all of the cultural clues and still appreciate The Muppets for the sheer joy that a madcap troupe of performers promises. Plus there’s a slight twinge of utopian ideal at play: no matter what walk of life you come from, you are welcome here, so long as you put your heart and soul above all.

Read the Full Story at Crave Online

Categories: 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Crave, Exhibitions

Karlheinz Weinberger: Swiss Rebels

Posted on July 27, 2017

“My life started on Friday events and ended on Monday mornings,” Swiss photographer Karlheinz Weinberger (1921-2006) said in 2000, on the occasion of his first major exhibition at the Museum of Design Zurich. This was the time when he could leave the daily grind behind, forgetting about his work as a warehouse manager at a factory day in and out from 1955 through 1986. It was on the weekends when he picked up his camera and came into himself.

His business card said it all: “My favorite hobbies: the individual portrait and The Extraordinary. Always reachable by telephone after 7 PM.” He refused to photograph people who did not pique his interest, throwing them the ultimate curve with lines like, “It’s easy to snap the shutter, but I’m so busy you’ll have to wait for maybe three to six months to get the photo.”

It takes nerve—and nerve is where Weinberger excelled. He dedicated himself to the raw sexuality of rebels, construction workers, athletes, and Sicilian youths, as well as men who regularly came to his home, undressed, and gave the camera a show.

As an outsider working in a milieu he created exclusively for his own pleasure and delight, Weinberger amassed a body of work is much a portrait of the artist as the subjects he photographed. Weinberger’s love of the human form was not limited to the bare flesh; he captured the raw sensuality in the very spirit of youth, fully dressed and perfectly coiffed, striking an exquisite balance between teenage lust and campy poseurdom.

Read the Full Story at Crave Online

Categories: 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, Art, Books, Crave, Fashion, Photography

Rex Ray: We Are All Made of Light

Posted on July 15, 2017

Rex Ray. Platismatia No.2 (detail), 2010, pigment print on Hahnemuhle paper, 42” x 62”, published by Gallery 16 Editions.

San Francisco in the early 1990 was covered by the shroud of death, as AIDS swept through the city, devastating a generation. Those who lived through the epidemic were forced to come to terms with the unthinkable: to carry on understanding the depths of the absence and the lives stolen from us.

Artist Rex Ray (1956–2015) exhibited a piece at the final show at Kiki Gallery titled “Waiting for a Fax from Yoko,” which featured an unplugged fax machine set on a podium. Outside the gallery, Clifford Hengst sang as Yoko Ono, accompanied by Ray’s guitar feedback—and together they performed until the police came to shut the whole thing down.

By the time of the performance, Ray had already been working as a graphic artist, trained before the advent of computer technology. He designed the first ACT UP! logo before they adopted the Gill Sans logo, “Silence = Death.” He abandoned the group when strangers arrived at the meetings talking about using bombs.

Although he work was not overtly political, he understood the stakes and the forces at work. But he refused to abandon the importance of beauty, a central element no matter what he did. His style, which embraced the influences of the Arts and Crafts movement, Fluxus, Dadaism, Abstract Expressionism, organic and hard-edged abstraction, pattern and textile design, and Op Art gave his work mass appeal, landing him commissions to design album covers for David Bowie, U2, Björk, Radiohead, and R.E.M., and collaborations Apple, Dreamworks and Swatch, among many others.

Read the Full Story at Crave Online

Rex Ray. Wall of Sound (detail).

From REX RAY: We Are All Made of Light by Gallery 16.

Categories: 1990s, Art, Books, Crave

A Tribute to Gianni Versace on the 20th Anniversary of His Death

Posted on July 15, 2017

Designer Gianni Versace at home. (Photo by David Lees/The LIFE Images Collection/Getty Images)

On the morning of Tuesday, July 15, 1997, Gianni Versace, the adored Italian fashion designer, was returning home after taking a walk down Ocean Drive in Miami Beach to pick up his morning papers. It was a task he usually had an assistant do, but he had been in high spirits after a week of haute couture fashion shows in Rome for the biannual Alta Moda Alta Rome.

Just as he as unlocking the wrought iron gates outside Villa Casa Casuarina, his Mediterranean Revival style mansion, a young white man approached Versace and shot him twice in the back of the head at point blank range. The killer fled the scene in a vehicle that looked like a taxi and dumped his clothes in a nearby garage.

Police arrived quickly to the scene but it was too late. Versace, just 50 years old, was dead.

Read the Full Story at Crave Online

Categories: 1990s, Crave, Fashion