Weekend Edition: 7 Things to Do in New York’s Art World Before August 3

Weekend Edition: 7 Things to Do in New York’s Art World Before August 3

Philip Taaffe, Untitled III, 1982. (Photo: Courtesy Philip Taaffe)

New York Observer, July 30, 2015

Opening: “Philip Taaffe: Works on Paper and Illustrated Books, 1982-2012” at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller.

Paton Miller at Horowitz

Paton Miller at Horowitz

East Hampton Star: The Art Scene, November 20, 2014

“Paton Miller: The Edge of the World,” an exhibition of recent and older works that reflect the Southampton artist’s longstanding exploration of the interface between land and sea, will open Saturday at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller in East Hampton and remain on view through Dec. 31. A reception will take place Saturday from 5 to 8 p.m.

Colin Goldberg, Techspressionist

Colin Goldberg, Techspressionist

Colin Goldberg with an uncharacteristically figurative self-portrait

East Hampton Star, October 16, 2014

Those who think they are starting to see Colin Goldberg everywhere are probably right. By Jennifer Landes.

Colin Goldberg at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller

Colin Goldberg at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller

Art & Architecture Quarterly East End (AAQ)

Colin Goldberg: Art and Algorithms

Colin Goldberg: Art and Algorithms

Medium: "Backchannel," October 10, 2014

"If Picasso Had a Macbook Pro: Artist Colin Goldberg’s New Movement Marries Computers and Craft," by Kendra Vaculin

Artists and Writers Show Returns

Artists and Writers Show Returns

East Hampton Star

Glenn Horowitz Bookseller has joined with Leif Hope to present an exhibition that allows some of the spotlight from the annual Artists & Writers Game to shine on practicing and historical South Fork artists and writers.

ADAM STENNETT: Artist Survival Shack Interview on BOMB MAGAZINE Website

ADAM STENNETT: Artist Survival Shack Interview on BOMB MAGAZINE Website

Bomb, Dec 09, 2013

ADAM STENNETT
by Veronika Vogler 

In 2008, after the crash of the art market, Adam Stennett found himself in a quandary that many were facing at the time of how to continue as an artist while sustaining an income. The Artist Survival Shack is designed as a performance piece, equipped with everything needed to live and paint, from an antique camp stove that uses kerosene to a biodegradable toilet that creates fertilizer. In preparation for his solo show at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller, Inc. this fall, Adam spent over a month living and working on 12 works for the show including object related pieces.

In late August, I had a chance to visit Adam at his remote Artist Survival Shack hidden in the brush of a Bridge Hampton golf course. He taught me to shoot Zen archery, a Japanese martial art that focuses not on the violent outcome but rather on the meditative process of movement. Weeks later, within the course of two days, Adam and I engaged in a 6 hour long text message conversation sifting through Heidegger, meditation and the tectonics of preparing for an exhibition while living in a 6.5 by 9.5 shack (click here for full article).

Almond Zigmund: Interruptions Repeated (Again and Again) in Whitehot Magazine

Almond Zigmund: Interruptions Repeated (Again and Again) in Whitehot Magazine

Almond Zigmund, Interruptions Repeated (again and again), at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller, East Hampton

White Hot Magazine, White Hot Cities, East Hampton, Long Island, September 2013

Almond Zigmund: Interuptions Repeated
by Janet Goleas

Interruptions Repeated, Almond Zigmund’s sculptural installation at the Sag Harbor Whaling and Historical Museum is a space-warping, grid-bending architectural intervention that has been plunged into the museum's ground floor like a rogue wave. Part of the Parrish Art Museum’s excellent summer program, "The Parrish Road Show", brainchild of Andrea Grover, Curator of Special Projects there, here in Sag Harbor Zigmund’s two soaring structures are thrust into the delicate architecture of the museum's 19th century parlor room. Like fraternal twins, the shapes are closely matched yet separate and distinct. One is solid and the other is void – one is up and the other is down. The see-through sculpture is a lacy, L-shaped form that evokes a combination of Islamic design, highway sound baffles, and mid-century patio furniture. Made from thin sheets of die cut plywood, the structure seems to lean back in elegant repose, as if reclined in a comfortable chair. Its hulking sister, "the solid", is cantilevered above, upended in a precarious and somewhat menacing counterstance. The physical space they occupy is mobilized both by their formal relationship to one another and by a visual kinesis that bounces the eye between the sculptures, the space between them, and the elaborate cornices, Corinthian columns and geometric ceiling treatment in the parlor.

Zigmund, whose works range from tabletop sculpture and paintings on paper to shape-shifting installations such as this one, has a knack for improvisation. Key to her oeuvre is the structural dynamism she affects in two and three dimensions which, at its best, is performative. It’s as if time moves within these installations at a pace that is both fast and slow. A tumult of memory, parallax, and precision, "Interruptions Repeated" unfolds into associations to domestic interiors and the sort of vast industrial landscape that stretches out across interstate highways, suburbia, and the modern urban environment.

A concurrent exhibition of smaller works, Interruptions Repeated (again and again), on view at Glenn Horowitz Bookseller in East Hampton examines a kindred patois, in this case, on a more intimate scale. The works are punchy and fanciful, stacked on shiny cubes with surfaces that bounce between zippy tessellations to smooth wood veneer. Doing double-time as plinths or pedestals, the cubes appear different from every angle, inviting perspectival twists that elicit a sort of sensory whiplash. The sculptures are oddly utopian, with crisp, buoyant imagery that is fixed, yet fleeting.

In B/W, a bulging form wriggles from the inside out like a small riot trapped inside a plastic girdle. The sense of animation here is palpable. Zigmund employs the most primal methodology – stacking – in Stacked Blocks, in which white rectangles are crisscrossed atop one another in a precise, architectonic mound. Assembled on a flaming red cube, they could reference an apartment complex in downtown Beijing or a post-modern island cairn.

In selected small paintings on view, Zigmund translates aspects of her three-dimensional imagery into fast moving tableaus that fly over the page the way hi-beams dart across a darkened living room. Like a clip from a stop-action film, time seems frozen in these vignettes, conjuring links to memory and transition, sunrise and shadows, passage and pageantry, as if larger fictions loom mightily just outside the margins.

Adam Stennett: Survival, Evasion and Escape (The Artist’s Studio) in the Hampton’s Dan’s Papers

Adam Stennett: Survival, Evasion and Escape (The Artist’s Studio) in the Hampton’s Dan’s Papers

Artist Survival Shack, Bridgehampton, NY

Dan's Papers, This is the Hamptons, September, 2013

Art Commentary: Adam Stennett’s ‘Survival, Evasion and Escape (The Artist’s Studio)
by Marion Wolberg Weiss

There are artist studios, and there are artist studios. Simply put, the places where artists work come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Lots of books have been written about the subject, and there are likely more to come. What’s fascinating are the diverse purposes that studios serve. For example, several decades ago studios in New York provided multiple intentions where artists created art, exhibited art and sold art all in the same place. Studio complexes, like The Beehive, which this critic visited in Paris, served as a community setting for artists to live, make art and share ideas. Buildings reserved just for studios pepper this country and include such well-known structures as the one on Lincoln Road in Miami.

Yet, there are individual studios that are not merely places to create art but exist to make particular statements as well. The current exhibit at East Hampton’s Glenn Horowitz Bookseller, an installation by Adam Stennett, is one good example. Called “Survival Evasion and Escape (The Artist’s Studio),” the real-life studio appears to be a survival shack where the artist produced works that are hanging on the gallery walls. The shack is small, containing essentials like an army cot, typewriter, a small table and survival manuals. Outside the hut, there are a teapot and kettle, candles and a clump of plants in pots, perhaps reminding us that the shack originally stood in a field near the Bridge Golf Course.

Our first thought is, what motivates this artist to build and then live in such a structure? (Stennett stayed in his shack for a month in the fields.) The fact that he was born in Alaska (in 1972) and grew up in Oregon may help explain his connection to the environment. (He now resides in Brooklyn.) He’s too young to have grown up during the 1950s, when fallout shelters on the streets were built to protect us from nuclear attacks by the Soviet Union.

Yet the question remains: what direct experience did Stennett have with the idea of survival? Did he come in contact with people who even today have survival spaces in the basement? Does he know anyone who belongs to a Neo-Nazi group who lives in survival bunkers? We don’t mean to be flip with our questions. We just wish we knew more about the artist’s background and motivations. While his living for a month in the shack is labeled a “performance,” perhaps we don’t need to know why he selected to do what he did. Yet, we still wish we did.

The works that Stennett created when he was living in the shack, using black paper and paint, are realistic, yet eerie, evoking a bleak and dangerous mood. Which is reasonable, considering that the paintings feature the Civil Defense symbol, a Nuclear Attack Survival booklet, posters/manuals with names like “Civil Disturbances and Disasters” and a Field Guide to the Psilocybin Mushroom.

Another display on the wall shows a potato gun which, when shot, explodes into the air. Real Idaho potatoes are lying on the floor beneath the display. Are the potatoes ammunition for the gun or do they represent food for survival? Such items not only have contradictory meanings but also evoke conceptual art.

The shack itself has many interpretations, perhaps too many. Yet, that’s what conceptual art is all about. We are left with one meaning, however, that resonates with relevance: the unpredictable economic times and threat of war in the Middle East make us think about survival whether we like it or not.

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