Showing posts with label Erick Swenson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erick Swenson. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Art I Liked at the Houston Fine Arts Fair


Robert Boyd

I was pretty down on a lot of the art I saw at HFAF this year. But I did see art I liked. The thing is that good art takes time. It requires contemplation. And an art fair is an environment antithetical to that. The bad art tends to be unsubtle. It screams at you from the walls. It's like a spotlight shining on your face. It makes it hard to see anything else.

But I made the effort. I spent five hours going from booth from booth, trying my best to screen out the glare from the loud, bad art to see what I could see that was good.  And the good is the subject of this post.

One note--I liked a lot of local art. Does this mean that I think local art is better than art from other places (on average)? That I am a chauvinist for art produced in Houston and vicinity? In my defense, I think the reason that I favored the local is because when I see a painting be, say, Geoff Hippenstiel, I am not seeing that painting in isolation. I am seeing the latest stage of a painter whose work I have been observing for a while now. I don't have that privilege for most out-of-town artists. If I am perplexed by what they are doing, I don't have any idea what their concerns as an artist are or how they reached this point. If I was living in Chicago or Seattle, I'd have similar experiences with their local artists. Familiarity breeds understanding and that ironically leads to what is effectively a local bias.

You'll also see that I like a lot of old things--Latin American Constructivists pieces (well represented at HFAF), abstract expressionist work, and surrealist objets. And there is a lot of photography on my list. I've tried to group similar works together, as if I were curating an exhibit. Hopefully that will help reduce the noise of such divergent work. As I said in my post on the art I hate, your mileage may vary.



Melitón Rodríguez, Carolina Carballo, Medellín Colombia, 1899, silver gelatin print at FotoFest

This cheesy studio portrait by Melitón Rodríguez from over a hundred years ago is made unexpectedly surreal because of the the rifles held by the young women.



Pía Elizondo at Patricia Conde Galería



Federico Gama at Patricia Conde Galería



Cannon Bernáldez at Patricia Conde Galería

One can't look at this piece by Cannon Bernáldez and not think of the Wicked Witch of the East in The Wizard of Oz.



Alejandro Cartagena, Carpoolers #20, photograph, 20” x 17.25”, Paul Kopeikin Gallery



Alejandro Cartagena, Carpoolers #21, photograph, 20” x 17.25”, Paul Kopeikin Gallery

I imagined Alejandro Cartagena sitting on an overpass, camera ready, for many days to get this series of photographs.  I found the series quite powerful and timely.



Aaron Parazette, Color Key #6, 2009, acrylic on linen at McClain Gallery

For me, it's the two tangent ellipses and the small green stripes separating the pink and orange stripes that make this piece by Aaron Parazette work. And the concentric circles radiating out from the tangent point. 



Dion Johnson, Helium, 2012, acrylic on canvas, 72" x 144" at Western Project

Dion Johnson's shaped canvas and overlapping colors initially struck me as a bit chaotic, but spending some time with it leads me to believe that the geometries here are no less deliberate than those in Aaron Parazette's painting.



Joseph Cohen, Proposition 357, pigment, diamond dust and varnish on birch, 29 1/2" x 23 1/2" at Avis Frank

The diamond dust in Joseph Cohen's works at Avis Frank gave these monochromatic and bichromatic paintings a rather unearthly luxe flavor.



Cathy Choi at Margaret Thatcher Projects

I was struck by the similarity between Cathy Choi's work and Joseph Cohen's.



Heidi Spector at Margaret Thatcher Projects

Lots of the work at Margaret Thatcher Projects featured artists working in brightly colored resin or plastics, as with this piece by Heidi Spector. The booth had a playful feel.


Omar Chacon at Margaret Thatcher Projects

I think people were quite taken with Omar Chacon's paintings last year, so Margaret Thatcher Projects brought back more Chacon pieces for an encore.



Luis Cruz Azaceta, Urban Jungle, 2011, serigraph, 36" x 41"

Of course, for intense color, silk screen is a venerable, low-tech medium, as Luis Cruz Azaceta demonstrates.



Al Souza, Blinky, puzzle parts and glue on wood, 2002 at Pavel Zoubok Gallery

Al Souza had this brightly colored puzzle piece in the fair. I always wonder with his puzzle pieces how quickly the colors fade, given that puzzles are printed with cheap inks on offset litho presses.



Joaquin Torres Garcia, Constructif dedique a Manolita, 1931, oil on cardboard at Sammer Gallery

It was astonishing to see this early constructivist work by Joaquin Torres Garcia at the fair. But Latin American constructivism seemed to be a theme this year.



Lolo Soldevilla, untitled, 1959, collage on cardboard at Arevalo Gallery

Like this angular collage by Lolo Soldevilla.



Manuel Alvarez, Pintura, oil on canvas, 45 cm x 70 cm at Sammer Gallery



Juan Mele, R783, 1999, oil, wood blocks at Arevelo Gallery

I especially liked this wood contruction by Juan Mele.



Theodoros Stamos, Morning Wind, 1957, oil on canvas, 70 3/4" x 57" at Hollis Taggart Galleries

And North America's abstractionists were not left out, as with this handsome Theodoros Stamos.



Norman Bluhm, untitled, oil on paper mounted on masonite, 41" x 28 3/4" at Hollis Taggart Galleries

But my favorite abstract expressionist painting in the show was this untitled piece by Norman Bluhm.



Robert Motherwell, Hollow Men Suite, lift-ground etching and aquatint, chine colle (one of seven prints), 11 1/4" x 12" each at Jerald Melberg Gallery



Robert Motherwell, Hollow Men Suite, lift-ground etching and aquatint, chine colle (one of seven prints), 11 1/4" x 12" each at Jerald Melberg Gallery

And there was a beautiful suite of tiny etchings by Robert Motherwell.



Francisco Larios, Doppelganger Delirium, 2012, mixed on canvas, 78" x 70" at Drexel Galeria

Francisco Larios creates a more modern abstraction with Doppelganager Delirium where recognizable graphic elements are mixed with a painterly textured surface. It makes me think a little of Lari Pittman.



Geoff Hippenstiel at Devin Borden Gallery

What jumped out at me in this painting by Geoff Hippenstiel was the black bar--it felt like a new element, something I hadn't seen in his work before.



Antonio Murado, Black Bear, 2011, oil on linen, 83" x 63" at Holly Johnson



Antonio Murado, untitled (1003), 2010, oil on linen, 31" x 37" at Von Lintel Gallery



Antonio Murado, Untitled (956), 2010, oil on paper, 11" x 15" at Von Lintel Gallery

Antonio Murado had work in two different galleries at the fair, and I was struck by all of it. Unlike Hippenstiel's thick impasto, Murado works with very thinned-down paint, creating transparent layers which he employs to various ends. The effect is subtle and sneaks up on you--therefore making it difficult work to see at an art fair.



Alexander Calder, untitled (Spoon), c. 1940-43, sterling silver at Schroeder Romero & Shredder

In addition to this delightful Alexander Calder spoon, Schroeder Romero & Shredder had a selection of gorgeous Man Ray photographs.



Annette Sauermann, No. 4 Kopie, 2012, sandpaper, white cement & light filter on board, 40 1/2" x 39 3/4" at C. Grimaldis Gallery

Pieces like No. 4 Kopie by Annette Sauermann, with its subtle shades of grey, seemed destined to be overlooked in the visual cacophony of the art fair.



Retna at New Image Art

Likewise the inkwash calligraphy of Retna.



Carol Young, Untitled, 2012, ceramic installation, 78.7" x 30.7" x 11.8" at Beatriz Esguerra Art



Carol Young, Untitled (detail) , 2012, ceramic installation, 78.7" x 30.7" x 11.8" at Beatriz Esguerra Art

I was quite taken by Carol Young's ceramic installation, which suggested themes of memory and age. It felt deliciously out of place in this venue with so much concentration on "the new." I was reminded a little of Ilya Kabokov's installation School No. 6 at Marfa.



Johannes Girardoni, Exposed Icon 62, 2012, C-print with commercial paint mounted on aluminum, 60" x 40" at Tomlinson Kong

Johannes Girardoni also approaches memory in his work-or specifically forgetting.

 
Sarah Frantz at David Shelton Gallery

Sarah Frantz likewise deals with forgetting or eliminating. Young, Girardoni and Franz all showed work that felt mature and wise, in contrast to some of the more typical art fair work which is brash (which is not a fault) and/or imbecilic.



Sarah Frantz at David Shelton



Erick Swenson, Sketch for Dressage, 2011, urethane resin and paint on MDF, 15 1/4" x 4 1/2" x 10 1/2" at Talley Dunn Gallery

The octopus lost, I guess.

 
John Adelmann at Darke Gallery

John Adelman had a great selection of paintings at Darke Gallery. These works are the result of an obsessive process, and it is the process that interests Adelman, but the results are quite beautiful.

 
Leandro Erlich, Neighbors, 1996 at Core Factor (MFAH)



Leandro Erlich, Neighbors (detail), 1996 at Core Factor (MFAH)

Not surprisingly, some of the best work at HFAH was at the CORE Program exhibit. Neighbors by Leandro Erlich had a feeling of loneliness and paranoia. I was reminded of Edward and Nancy Kieholz's Pedicord Apartments or even certain Edward Hopper paintings.



Maritta Tapanainen, Eye of the Beholder, 2010, paper collage, 15" x 17 1/4" at Pavel Zoubok



Mark Greenwalt, Large Synthetic Head, 2012, acrylic on panel, 59" x 43 1/2" at Hooks-Epstein Galleries

Mark Greenwalt has a great show up right now at Hooks-Epstein Gallery.



Richard Colman at New Image Art

There is something slightly disturbing about Richard Colman's painting at New Image Art. Trying to understand what is being depicted (beheadings?) within this setting that seems simultaneously ancient and science-fictional. The work grabbed my attention and held it.



Robert Pruitt, Up Up in the Upper Room, 2012, conte and charcoal on hand-dyed paper, 73" x 61" at Hooks-Epstein Galleries

This is the first time I've seen Robert Pruitt depict a group scene (as opposed to an individual portrait). The two viewers (connoisseurs? casual art fans?) look at the sculpture (or ritual object) being shown by the third woman. In a way, it could be a depiction of an episode at an art fair!


  Robyn O'Neill, Symbiosis, 2008, graphote on paper, 36" x 44" at Talley Dunn Gallery



Rodolfo de Florencia, Madame Chocolat, 2012, acrylic on canvas, 56" x 43" at Drexel Galeria

Rodolfo de Florencia caught my eye with this genuinely bizarre image of auto-cannibalism. The richness of the painting combined with its utter eccentricity were what appealed to me so much about it.



Trenton Doyle Hancock, Friends Indeed, 2000 at Core Factor (MFAH)

There were several Trenton Doyle Hancock pieces at the fair, but this one, with its skein of roots and words, appealed to me the most.



Wayne White at Westen Projects

Wayne White is always welcome.



William Betts,View from the Standard, NY, 2010, acrylic paint on reverse drilled mirror acrylic, 60" x 40" at Holly Johnson Gallery

As is William Betts. This was one of his pieces where a photographic image is placed into a mirror by drilling out tiny holes and filling them with acrylic paint (presumably some computer-controlled machine actually does this--I don't see how human hands could accomplish it). Because it's an image on a mirror's surface, it is quite difficult to photograph--an effect that Betts may have deliberately sought.




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Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eyes

Robert Boyd

(Continued from Dallas is a Jewel)

One of my favorite bloggers is a Patrick Kennedy, whose Walkable Dallas-Fort Worth is full of ideas about (re)creating walkable spaces in car-centric cities. And when it comes to the Dallas Arts District, home of the Dallas Museum of Art, the Nasher Sculpture Center and other arts venues,  he can be pretty critical. The weird thing about this area of downtown Dallas is how contrived it is. It's not an art district because artists live there. It's an arts district because an oligopoly of planners, developers and wealthy benefactors decreed it.
The DAD [Dallas Arts District] is an entirely new animal as far as Arts Districts go. My guess is that most people conceptualize arts districts they are thinking of funky areas where artists agglomerate and transform into hip areas. That is not an incorrect assumption. In fact, that is pretty much how all arts districts have been formed, informally. Only later have some become formalized, with an official organization forming to brand, market, and program events. This stabilizes arts districts and allows them to fend off gentrification (typically).
The other form of an arts district is the more ephemeral. The one that rejects institutionalization, whether consciously or unconsciously. Like the previous version, artists cluster in areas ONLY because of where it is cheap, but facilitates clustering, i.e. the suburbs are cheap, but not in the least bit interesting. Too underscore this point, there is a vibrant art scene out in historic West Texas towns [whose] cheap, historic, fabric facilitates clustering. I believe artists intuitively search for soul in where they locate.
I discuss all of that so that I can point out that the Dallas Arts District was created more by a stroke of a pen than from the grassroots. It has been completely top down and as long as we recognize that, and the inherent strengths and weaknesses from the process, it is ok. ["The Arts District, Post Script and Prologue," Patrick Kennedy, Walkable Dallas-Fort Worth, November 5, 2010]
Kennedy is being nice here. And while he's viewing this from the point of view of walkable urbanism (and the DAD gets a big "fail" in that regard), it says something about Dallas that this is the way they do it. There is something grandiose about it.

Kennedy points to an article in the Chicago Tribune by Blair Kamin, "A work in progress: The Dallas Arts District gathers trophy buildings, but still searches for urban vitality."
The Dallas Arts District gathers this city’s major arts museums and performance halls in a 19-block area to the northeast of the shimmering downtown skyline. The district is billed as the nation’s largest contiguous urban arts district, and that’s not its only distinction. It may be the only place on earth where buildings by four Pritzker Architecture Prize winners (in this case, I.M. Pei, Renzo Piano, Norman Foster and Rem Koolhaas) sit within blocks of each other.
Is it a good idea to organize arts buildings in such a clear and concentrated fashion? Or does the more mixed-up Chicago way make better sense? I ask because, despite its impressive architectural firepower, the Dallas Arts District can be an exceedingly dull place. There are no bookstores, few restaurants outside those in the museums, and not a lot of street life, at least when there are no performances going on. Even some of the architects who’ve designed buildings here privately refer to the district as an architectural petting zoo — long on imported brand-name bling and short on homegrown-urban vitality.
This might be OK if there were a lot of street level artistic vitality elsewhere in Dallas, but as Christina Rees and Douglas D. Martin indicated in her Glasstire article and his response, that vitality may be lacking. In any case, it seems that Dallas ultimately recognized that its billion dollar jewel was flawed. It is currently engaging in the Big Dig-like project of covering up the Woodall Rodgers Freeway, which separates the DAD from the more lively Uptown neighborhood.
The park over the Woodall Rodgers freeway could go a long way toward rectifying the district’s lack of urbanity. Indeed, it could be a model for other cities, among them Chicago and St. Louis, that have looked into “capping” or “decking” sunken highways.
Backed by city, state and federal stimulus funds as well as private donations, the narrow, three-block-long park was designed by Houston landscape architect James Burnett, who shaped the attractive contemporary park in Chicago’s Lakeshore East development [and the Brochstein Pavilion at Rice--RB]. In contrast to Millennium Park, its focus will be on outdoor spaces that thread Dallas’ fragmented urban fabric, not spectacular objects. [ "A work in progress: The Dallas Arts District gathers trophy buildings, but still searches for urban vitality," Blair Kamin, The Chicago Tribune, March 19, 2011]
Kamin was doubtful, though. He saw the lack of housing as a major problem for the area. An arts district needs to have a population. Unfortunately, Kamin got his wish in the form of Museum Tower, a 42-story condominium tower built across the street from the Nasher Sculpture Center.

 
"Power up the death ray, captain!"

 
Museum Tower targets my bald head

Museum Tower was built specifically for the purpose of attracting people who wanted to live in DAD. Its website brags, "Museum Tower is perfectly situated among 26 of the city's most acclaimed artistic institutions. Ascending from the heart of what will become the world's largest Urban Arts District, Museum Tower will be the undisputed residential cultural centerpiece of Dallas. Here, residents will indulge in a celebration of entertainment and truly refined living." But it turns out that the curved and mirrored face of Museum Towers reflects sunlight right into the Nasher Sculpture Center and its beautiful sculpture garden. And let me tell you--that reflected sunlight is powerful.


Museum Tower as seen through the Piano sun baffles

The center was designed by Renzo Piano, and as he did with the Menil Museum, he created a means of filtering natural light into the museum through multiple baffles (concrete in the Menil, aluminum at the Nasher). He designed his baffles to work with the trajectory of the sun over the building, but Museum Tower manages at certain times of day to reflect the sunlight directly through the baffles, so instead of getting nice soft diffuse light, you get direct sunlight through the screen. And the garden, full of grass and live oaks, is likely to turn into a desert with this second sun shining down on it. Not only that, a James Turrell piece was basically ruined by Museum Tower.

 
James Turrell is peeved

Worst of all, The New York Times noticed. Dallas hates to be embarrassed in front of out-of-towners. Since the problem was first noticed, no compromise solution has been reached, despite incentives for both sides of the issue to resolve it.
Since the building that overlooks the sculpture center and its garden is using the Nasher as a selling point — prices stretch into the millions — those involved say its owners should want to keep the Nasher healthy.
 “By doing this, they kill what they use to sell it,” Mr. Piano said. ["Dallas Museum Simmers in a Neighbor’s Glare,"Robin Pogrebin, The New York Times, May 1, 2012]
I hope they can solve this problem, because the Nasher is a really nice museum. It was built around the personal collection of Raymond Nasher (1921-2007) and Patsy Nasher (1929-1988). Raymond Nasher was a property developer and banker who made a fortune in Dallas, ended up working in government for the Johnson administration, and founded another museum bearing his name at Duke University. Like so many great collectors, Raymond and Patsy were a team. They started collecting Pre-Columbian art in the 50s before expanding out to paintings then sculptures. The museum houses a part of their collection as well as hosting temporary sculpture exhibits.

 
Ernesto Neto, Kink, aluminum, crocheted polyester and polypropylene rope, polypropylene balls, air, wood, felt, rubber, 14'3" x 66'8" x 13'8"

When I visited, this large piece, Kink, by Ernesto Neto was up. Neto is currently building a lot of these structures out of rope and plastic balls. They almost have the feel of children's playground equipment. Like his earlier work they are interactive.


Ernesto Neto, Kink, aluminum, crocheted polyester and polypropylene rope, polypropylene balls, air, wood, felt, rubber, 14'3" x 66'8" x 13'8"

You enter the piece through this vagina-esque entrance. It turns out that walking on this walkway is pretty difficult! Your feet sink into the balls and you have to hold onto the sides to keep your balance. It's fun, but I prefer his earlier pieces made from transparent lycra that often included spices, giving the work an olfactory dimension beyond the visual and tactile dimensions.

 
Erick Swenson, Schwärmerei, 2012, acrylic and oil on urethane resin, silicone, and MDF

Another temporary show on display was part of Sightings, the Nasher's small exhibit series. Erick Swenson, a Dallas artist, had three creepily ultra-real sculptures on display. The work was interesting, but what is really notable was that Swenson is a Dallas artist. The thing I've noticed is that at a certain high level, Dallas doesn't seem to pay much attention to its local artists. This is a pretty universal complaint, though. The CAMH, for example, hasn't had a show devoted to art by local artists since 2011. But if collectors aren't buying local art, as Douglas D. Martin implied, lack of representation of those artists in local museums may be one reason why. Museums provide validation.

 
Erick Swenson, Ne Plus Ultra, 2010, acrylic urethane resin

The garden is a beautiful, walled setting. It gets used for events like weddings, which would be perfect here. When I was there, they were setting up for some kind of musical event, and consequently had put up distracting string barriers around all the sculptures.


Joan Miró, Moonbird, 1944-46 (enlarged 1966), bronze

I noticed that the grass was dead around this delightful Miró Moonbird. I wonder if that is because of the reflection from Museum Tower or just lack or rain?


Richard Deacon, Like a Bird II, 1984, steel and laminated wood


Joel Shapiro, Untitled, 1996-99, bronze


Richard Serra, My Curves Are Not Mad, 1987, Cor-ten steel

The thing about the Nasher family is that their fortune came from retail businesses. Banks, houses, shopping malls--these are places that the general public come in contact with. Contrast this to other museum founders and funders--the Menils, the Cullens, Alfred Glassel. Their money came from the oil industry. The point is that the Nashers knew something that might not be second nature to those other wealthy patrons--marketing.

NorthPark Center is a fancy high-end mall in Dallas, built by Raymond Nasher and now owned by daughter Nancy Nasher and her husband David Haemisegger. In addition to a vast variety of luxury retailers, NorthPark Mall has something I have never seen in any other shopping mall--a large, substantial art collection.


Mark di Suvero, Ad Astra, 2005, painted steel, 48' x 25.5' x 25.5'


Jonathan Borofsky, Five Hammering Men, 1982, painted wood with steel, aluminum, foam, bondo, and electric motors, each 175" x 72" x 6"


Jim Dine, The Field of the Cloth of Gold, 1987-1988, bronze, 77" x 28" x 29"


Joel Shapiro, 20 Elements, 2004-05, wood with casein, 122" x 132" x 85"

These are just a few of the works on display at the mall. Most are from the collection of Nasher and Haemisegger, but they have encouraged retailers to get in the act. Louis Vuitton has an Anish Kapoor sculpture in front of it, for example, that it owns.

 
Louis Vuitton and its Anish Kapoor in the NorthPark Center courtyard

There is so much to think about here. Art is taken out of the consecrated realm of the museum and put into the commercial realm of a shopping mall. How does the art's meaning change when the institutional setting changes so drastically? And this is a high-end mall--does the art signal sophistication and wealth to the shoppers? Does the presence of art make them feel more sophisticated? Do shopper gain cultural capital by shopping here as opposed to a mall without art? Do shoppers who see art in a mall develop a greater appreciation for art? Do they subsequently seek it out in museums? Does the Nasher Sculpture benefit from having what is effectively a satellite exhibit in NorthPark Center? But these questions keep getting obliterated by my feeling that there is something fundamentally freaky about this wedding of art and commerce. Dallas always wants to show itself to the world as a sophisticated, beautiful place. But underlying it all is money. These two tendencies are married at NorthPark Center.


Nancy Nasher by Andy Warhol on the cover of Patron

Nancy Nasher is on the cover this magazine, which is a free society magazine like Paper City. I picked it up in a gallery in the Design District. It intrigued me that it was called Patron and that it centered around wealthy people who were involved in the arts. It's better to be a patron than an artist, it seems. The former get their own magazine.

Across the street from the Nasher Sculpture Center is the Dallas Museum of Art. The DMA has been around in one form or another since 1903, but it only came to its current location in 1984. Travel and wine writer Stephen Brook wrote at the time
Dallas, it seemed, went through the motions of acting as if it were a lively cultural center, only its heart wasn't in it. The city was fundamentally stuffy, at root philistine. The Dallas writer A.C. Greene didn't disagree. "In many ways Dallas is culturally unexciting. It prefers to rent culture rather than produce its own. It doesn't trust its own judgment and that makes it fairly unadventurous."
Jack [a local journalist] agreed that Dallas was philistine, strait-laced. [...] "It's curious: they're building a new art museum, as you know, and there's been a tremendous amount of discussion about the new building, but not a word has been said about what they're going to put inside it. They're just assuming that a lot of folks in North Dallas will have a bunch of extra art around that they'll just hand over. And most likely, they will." [Stephen Brook, Honky Tonk Gelato, 1985, Hamish Hamilton Ltd., London]
As if to illustrate Greene's point, the exhibit Flower of the Prairie: George Grosz in Dallas was up at the DMA while I was there. This was a collection of paintings of Dallas by George Grosz, of all people. Grosz, fleeing the Nazis, ended up in America where he attempted to keep a low profile. He taught, he stayed out of politics, he raised his family. In 1952, he was contacted by Leon Harris, Jr., who owned a department store in Dallas called A. Harris & Co. Harris commissioned Grosz to paint a series of paintings of Dallas for $15,000, a sum that would allow Grosz to buy a modest house for his family. (Grosz never exactly prospered in the U.S.) Harris was, as A.C. Greene put it, "renting" a little culture for Dallas. Grosz, on the other hand, knew he was selling out--he called it "disgusting work because I 'sold' myself (this time out of a pure need for money)."

But the ironic thing was that Grosz's paintings were really good. Sure, he'd lost his dadaist edge and the savagery with which he had skewered the war mongers, Weimar burghers and Nazis was long gone, but he had a good eye for telling detail and was a masterful watercolorist.


George Grosz, Cowboy in Town, 1952, watercolor, 19 3/4" x 15 1/2"


George Grosz, Dallas Broadway, 1952, watercolor, 19 1/2" x 15 1/2"


George Grosz, A Dallas Night, 1952, watercolor, 21" x 13 3/4"


George Grosz, In Front of the Hotel, 1952, watercolor, 19 3/4" x 15 1/2"


George Grosz, Flower of the Prairie, 1952, watercolor, 19 7/8" x 26 5/8"


George Grosz, A Glimpse into the Negro Section of Dallas, 1952, watercolor, 26 1/4" x 19"


George Grosz, Refreshments on the Way, 1952, watercolor, 26 1/4" x 19"

This long-established practice of looking beyond Dallas for culture finds its fullest flower in Dallas Cowboys Stadium, the apotheosis of art in Dallas. And that is the subject of my final post (for now!) about Dallas and its art.


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