Word: painterly
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...sublimated passion and quiet decorum. The Lady and the Unicorn centers on the series of tapestries that today hang in Paris' Musee National du Moyen Age depicting a woman's seduction of a unicorn. Not surprisingly, the proceedings are more overtly carnal. The story begins in 1490 when the painter Nicolas des Innocents, whose appetites pointedly contradict his name, is commissioned by the wealthy Parisian Jean Le Viste to design six tapestries glorifying the nobleman's status at court. Nicolas, like most of the characters, is fictional, though a Jean Le Viste did exist in the Middle Ages...
Nancy Rubens, a painter in New York City, never imagined when her son Alex got a "really cool" turtle, Mikey, for his 12th birthday that a dozen years later she would be boiling meat and eggs three times a week to minister to Mikey's osteoporosis. "Her bones were damaged," Rubens, 55, reports. "She had X rays and shots, and now I have to cook her food." Rubens isn't sure whether, even if Alex took Mikey, her son's lifestyle would permit the care this exotic pet requires. "It's hard to have much rapport with a turtle," Rubens...
...Island of--yet another bad movie), and the grotesque talking animals Moreau breeds become a sinister take on Mr. Toad from The Wind in the Willows and the talking rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, as well as--this is virtuosity in action, folks--the real-life 19th century painter Gustave Moreau. What could have been just a satisfyingly dark thriller becomes a sharp-witted gloss on the scientific and sexual obsessions of Victorian society...
...soft, pillowy porn, then working them into more conventionally scaled nudes and lately scattering them into satires of life among the well dressed and well fed. His art-history references come from all over--Botticelli, Mantegna, Courbet--but a favorite is the nudes of Lucas Cranach, the Northern Renaissance painter whose high-waisted women with elongated limbs step toward us with strange, awkward footsteps...
Currin can make an easy target, a balloon just waiting for a pin. In interviews he doesn't hesitate to name himself as the best artist in Manhattan or to theorize in his lofty, jejune way. (One of his latest conclusions is that American painters have never manifested "the will to make a masterpiece"--which would have come as news to Jackson Pollock, to say nothing of the thundering landscape painter Frederic Edwin Church.) But whatever his merits as a thinker, as an entrepreneur Currin is doing fine. With his wife Rachel Feinstein, a sculptor whose high forehead and pert...