Word: artists
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Good Story, Bad Taste I was impressed by Richard Lacayo's article on Britain's Damien Hirst and his $100 million Sotheby's auction [Sept. 15]. He is a great artist. TIME has, over the years, built itself a reputation of good story-writing and my family has been reading it for the past 20 years. I, a 13-year-old, have seen a flaw that has been bothering me for quite a while: the use of vulgar language (or evidence thereof). When I read TIME, I do not expect to read nonsense, and if I wish to read something...
...Artist?As someone who collects original art, albeit on a modest level, I am offended by the way in which British "Bad Boy" artist Damien Hirst dominates the art world [Sept. 15]. He is just a charlatan who found a gimmick and capitalized on it, suckering in those wannabes who are more interested in bragging rights than promoting a fresh, honest talent in the art world or insightful, subversive ideas in the public arena. Dead animals preserved in formaldehyde and a diamond encrusted skull-is this even legal? Spin paintings done by studio assistants-give me a break; kids have...
...flows over the lower edge of the black square. On each side panel, Bacon appears as a painted photograph of his own head pinned to the space above a pair of disembodied legs. Each of these has one foot stepping into the blackness. It's a portrait of the artist bowing out, dying as fearlessly as he lived. And without a trace of sentiment, making death majestic...
...physics of setting type, the mechanics of hand printers, and the challenge of pulling a pristine print. The class is the brain-child of Jacoby, and it will be taught by Michael Russem, a local printer and book designer who is the press’s first visiting artist. The class consists of a series of lectures and workshops, as well as trips to Firefly Press in Allston, a modern letterpress shop, and to Houghton Library. Russem was initially worried that there wouldn’t be enough demand for the course. But after registration closed Sunday night and there...
...left for Italy, leaving him in a rage of frustration and financial desperation. In order to pay his room and board at the inn, he had been forced to succumb to the inept fumblings of pallid, emaciated men in too-tight breeches, all calling themselves “artists.” Invariably these artists found reasons to constantly touch him, rearranging that arm, this hand, that burnished curl. This, The Stable Boy knew, would be the last time. He growled softly to himself.Tatiana purred in response. They had taken to each other immediately.“Well...