More stories

  • in

    Paula Modersohn-Becker: A Trailblazing Artist Who Died Too Young

    An exultant sense of discovery is the propelling through line of “Paula Modersohn-Becker: Ich Bin Ich / I Am Me,” a glorious exhibition at the Neue Galerie that is, surprisingly, the German artist’s first in an American museum. (It will travel to the Art Institute of Chicago in October.)During a career cut short by her death in 1907, when she was only 31, little escaped Modersohn-Becker’s scrutiny. A paramount subject of inquiry was her own self. For some of her 60 self-portraits, which are her best-known works, she bared all: She is said to be the first Western female artist to depict herself in the nude. In many others, she holds a flower or a fruit, like a saint or a nobleman in a Renaissance painting. Either way, she looks unmistakably modern.Only a generation separates Modersohn-Becker from Mary Cassatt and Berthe Morisot, who shared her predilection for painting mothers and children. But while the Paris-based Impressionists depicted the bourgeois occupants of drawing-rooms, Modersohn-Becker, who visited Paris devotedly, homed in on the primal.Early drawings by Paula Modersohn-Becker, between 1898 and 1899, depicted the residents — particularly women and children — of Worpswede, an artist’s colony in northern Germany. They capture the harsh reality and vulnerability of their sitters, curators said. Annie SchlechterIt was on a visit to the Trocadéro ethnographic museum in Paris in 1906 that she discovered, a year before Picasso, the power of African masks. She was also looking at Courbet, Cézanne and Gauguin. All of these influences converge in such paintings as “Kneeling Mother With Child at Her Breast” from 1906, where a dark-skinned, blocky woman suckles a white infant (might Modersohn-Becker be alluding to the nourishment she derives from African art?), and “Reclining Mother with Child II” from the same year, of a nude woman lying on her side in a fetal position nursing a naked baby.Those were produced near the end of her life. Yet even at the outset, she showed a gift for channeling traditional methods and tropes to suit her sensibility. In 1898 and 1899, while sketching nude models in the way that art students had done for centuries, she also used charcoal to memorialize the farmers, peat diggers and charity cases in Worpswede, the rural village in northern Germany that she inhabited on and off for the rest of her life.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Brazilian Art Student Switches Coin at the British Museum With a Fake

    The artist aimed to use sleight of hand to point to what he described as the museum’s problematic legacy of colonial-era acquisitions.A Brazilian artist strolled into the British Museum last month and approached a table where visitors are allowed to interact with historic objects. After handling a 17th-century British coin for a moment, he seemingly returned it and moved on, like thousands of other visitors.Only last week did the museum discover — through the artist’s Instagram page — that he had replaced a genuine coin with his own replica and discarded the real artifact in the museum’s donation box on his way out.The act was the culmination of a more-than-yearlong project by Ilê Sartuzi, an art student at Goldsmiths, University of London. To briefly steal the coin, he used the type of sleight of hand often associated with magicians to draw parallels to what he called the “trickery” of the museum’s display of objects with contested provenance.“The gesture of stealing as a central part of the project brings back the heated discussion about the role of looting in the museum’s foundation,” Mr. Sartuzi said.The museum has long faced criticism regarding its acquisition methods. Several nations have sought the return of particular objects in the museum’s exhibits and questioned the legitimacy of its collections. This latest stunt did not seem to resonate with the museum.“It’s a tired argument,” said Connor Watson, the museum’s spokesman. “We’re quite open about what is looted and what is a contested object.” We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    The Art Forger Had Fooled Thousands. Then He Met Doug.

    When a man obsessed with woodblocks began to do business with a man obsessed with medical antiques, their relationship flowered — until it soured.Earl Washington loves wood.He loves maple wood from Wisconsin and boxwood from Turkey. He loves running his hands on its surface, feeling its heft and texture. But most of all he loves carving it. Thoughts about carving, he says, consume his waking moments.“If I’m looking at your face when I’m talking to you, I’m literally looking at how I’m going to carve your eyes and carve your nose on a piece of wood,” he said in an interview.For decades, beginning in the late 1990s, Washington, 62, created thousands of ornate woodblocks and used them to make intricate prints of all kinds of things: biblical imagery, erotica, anatomical illustrations, the stark motifs of German expressionism.Mastery was never enough for him, though. To profitably sell woodblocks — which can be an oddity in the art market — Washington decided he also needed myth. So he created elaborate origin stories for his pieces. Some, he claimed, had been made or acquired by his great-grandfather. Others he promoted as rare creations from the 16th and 17th centuries.Thousands of people bought them unquestioningly, but a few became suspicious and raised concerns online and to the authorities. The F.B.I. fielded some complaints, but was not aware, it said later, of the “depth and the breadth” of Washington’s scheme, so he continued to sell his creations, having mastered the craft of carving and the art of fooling others.Until one day in 2013, when he met Douglas Arbittier.Everything Earl Washington feels about wood, Arbittier feels about medical antiques.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    The Painter of Revolution, on Both Sides of the Atlantic

    Born into slavery, Guillaume Lethière became one of France’s most decorated painters. For the first time, a major exhibition gives us the full view of his scenes of love and war.Liberté, égalité … and that third one, what is it again?On July 14, 1789 (exactly 235 years ago this Sunday), some idealistic Parisians stormed a not especially crowded prison. They overthrew the king’s guard. They set in train a three-pronged revolution: for individual liberty, for civil equality, and, last and rarest, for communal obligation. That July fraternity passed from the realm of genealogy into politics — and this July’s startling French legislative election, fought over race, migration and national belonging, confirms how agitated that third virtue remains. Who is my brother? In the National Assembly of 1789 and the National Assembly of 2024, some questions never get a final answer.Far from the Bastille, at the Clark Art Institute in the Berkshires, one of the most remarkable exhibitions I’ve seen in years punches right at the heart of today’s altercations over nationality and democracy, culture and politics, and what it means to be a citizen. Guillaume Lethière (1760—1832) was a Neoclassical painter of mixed race who has never, until now, been the subject of a solo museum show. Born in the French Caribbean, almost certainly into slavery, he reached the summits of artistic achievement in Paris and Rome. As rebellions and revolutions shook both France and the Caribbean, he painted massive history paintings of heroes in togas, and portraits of men and women from Europe and the Antilles. It was Lethière’s calling, in an era where no bonds seemed stable, to give form to fraternité.“Woman Leaning on a Portfolio,” circa 1799, oil on canvas, at the Clark. Our critic celebrates “the aloof precision of Lethière’s line” in this portrait, which pictures his stepdaughter clutching an artist’s papers. Richard Beaven for The New York TimesThis groundbreaking show was organized over five years by Esther Bell and Olivier Meslay of the Clark, along with Marie-Pierre Salé of the Musée du Louvre in Paris, where the exhibition will travel in November. Bell and Meslay have also edited an imposing 400-page catalog, bulky with contributions from leading scholars of French and Caribbean history. But “Guillaume Lethière” is not — this point is critical — a corrective exhibition, highlighting some marginal figure excluded from a white, European establishment. Lethière couldn’t have been more central to the Paris art world of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. He ran one of the leading academies. He painted the empress Joséphine, a fellow Creole. Ingres drew him and his family. In a 1798 painting depicting France’s celebrity artists of that age of revolution, Lethière stands in the most prominent position, bathed in light.Even today, at the Louvre, he is hiding in plain sight. If you’ve ever fought through the throngs in the Italian painting wing, you may remember being spat out of the Mona Lisa gallery into a grand chamber with a concession selling magnets, mugs and other souvenirs. In all my years I never really looked up in that room — but right there, hanging above the Leonardo Rubik’s cubes and Eiffel Tower figurines, are two giant paintings by Lethière, two stentorian 25-footers of antique virtue and death. A consul orders his sons beheaded for betraying the Roman Republic. A centurion stabs his daughter to save her from enslavement.That’s our guy! As weighty as marble. As serious as the law. What you are going to see in this show is the cold beauty of Neoclassicism: a style predicated on Greek and Roman examples that found favor during the French Revolution, everywhere from painting and architecture to fashion and furniture design. Neoclassicism frowns on pleasure. It sneers at ornament. Its greatest exponent was Jacques-Louis David, the Jacobin artist/terrorist and Lethière’s great rival, who painted Roman history and myth as moral lessons for the new French republic.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    It’s Still Barbie’s World

    A new exhibition reminds us that while the famous doll can now do any job, her greatest power is selling stuff — to children and adults alike.At the latest celebration of the world’s most famous doll, everything is pink.People speak in hushed tones, pointing out their favorite — the one they had, or wanted desperately — and laugh with childish wonder about the fantastical stories they used the curvy, 11.5 inch figure to tell. Strangers of all ages swap tales and compare models. Some recall being forbidden to own the doll, with its rather sexy adult body; some profess disinterest or even disdain; and others wonder about how sustainable it is to produce so many of the plastic figures that three are sold every second.Love her or hate her, Barbie — 65 this year and still basking in the glow of her recent Hollywood success — has a powerful hold on the cultural imagination of adults and children alike. At “Barbie: The Exhibition,” running through Feb. 23, 2025, at the Design Museum in London, 180 chronologically displayed dolls and accessories chart her aesthetic and sociocultural shifts.The show opens with the original: the first Barbie ever, spotlit on a pedestal where she turns slowly in her strapless black-and-white-striped bathing suit, her tiny feet wedged into precariously high kitten-heel sandals, her blonde ponytail coif immaculate. Nearby, the first commercial for the doll plays on a monitor, its sugary sweet jingle drifting through subsequent rooms: “Barbie’s small and so petite, her clothes and figure look so neat!” and “Purses hats and gloves galore, and all the gadgets gals adore! Barbie, beautiful Barbie …”By the last gallery, Barbie has a mansion, a camper van, a cabin in Aspen, a hot rod, a mini car and a pool with a slide.Benjamin Cremel/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesWhen Ruth Handler, who co-founded Mattel in 1945 and acted as its first president, conceived of Barbie in the early 1950s, it was as an alternative to the omnipresent baby doll, which she thought — watching her daughter play — automatically socialized young girls for marriage and motherhood.Barbie, launched to some skepticism from male executives in 1959, was an adult woman with a glamorous interchangeable wardrobe, offering more role play options. For parents spooked by Barbie’s maturity, Mattel developed more benign options, including a freckled best friend, Midge (1963) and little sister Skipper (1964). Ken, Barbie’s devoted boyfriend, appeared in 1961, with a head of strange velvet hair. And so, the franchise grew and grew.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    The Wide, Wide World of Judy Chicago

    The 84-year-old American is perhaps best known for her groundbreaking feminist installation “The Dinner Party,” but she is an artist with a formidable range.Like all women and all art, Judy Chicago contains multitudes. This summer, the 84-year old American artist’s lifelong interest in excavating and subverting female history through storytelling, activism and overtly feminine aesthetics and materials is on display in two bold and affecting European retrospectives.Across venues in Britain and France, six decades of Chicago’s distinctly feminist oeuvre show a remarkable range. Minimalist sculptures; psychedelic spray-painted car hoods; landscapes billowing with bright plumes of smoke; and paintings of swirling, hallucinatory flowers fill the galleries with Chicago’s hallmark bright colors and undulating line.Many works incorporate personal texts in tidy, looping cursive about gendered rejection, shame, longing and anger. And tapestries, wall hangings and monumental drawings on black paper present female bodies, including the body of the artist herself, in states of ecstasy, abandon, dissolution — being born, giving birth, dying and evanescing into the ether in rainbow sweeps and spirals. These works foreground the female nude, its life-giving properties and implicit connection to the natural world.One of the shows, “Herstory” — which ran at the New Museum in New York this past fall and is now on show at the LUMA Foundation in Arles, France — is a classic chronological display of Chicago’s work from the early 1960s to the present; the other, “Revelations,” at the Serpentine Galleries in London, focuses on the artist’s drawings. The catalog for the London exhibition also includes an illuminated manuscript of the same name from the 1970s that Chicago produced while creating her best-known work, “The Dinner Party” (1974-1979), an installation that imagines a ceremonial banquet for 39 pre-eminent women.“In the Beginning,” from “Birth Project” (1982), on display at the Serpentine Galleries in London.Judy Chicago/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, via Judy Chicago and Serpentine; Jo UnderhillNow a mainstay of art history studies, “The Dinner Party” has dominated understanding of Chicago’s career despite her prolific and wide-ranging output. The vast triangular table with elaborate ceramic and embroidered place settings was the product of years of collaborative work with female artisans, and it distilled a decade of research in archives and libraries, where Chicago unearthed figure after figure who had made groundbreaking discoveries across disciplines but whose contributions had been erased from history. Each place setting at the banquet is devoted to one of these women, each with her own special embroidered cloth and ceramic plate.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Sigmund Rolat, Who Used His Wealth to Memorialize Polish Jews, Dies at 93

    A Holocaust survivor and a shipping financier, he returned to his home country, where his parents and brother perished, to help build a museum and other memorials.Sigmund Rolat, a Polish Holocaust survivor who tapped the wealth he accumulated as a businessman in the United States to support cultural projects in his homeland, most notably a museum devoted to the history of Jews in Poland that stands on the grounds of the Warsaw Ghetto, died on May 19 at his home in Alpine, N.J. He was 93.His son, Geoffrey, confirmed the death.Mr. Rolat believed that except for the dark chapter of World War II, with Nazi atrocities at concentration camps like Auschwitz and Treblinka in occupied Poland, the history of Polish Jewry was a mystery to most Jews, and most Americans. He donated millions of dollars to help build the interior and other elements of the Polin Museum of the History of Polish Jews, which opened in 2014, and he became a major fund-raiser and an influential voice on its board.“I want the gate of our museum, and not the ‘Arbeit macht frei’ gate, to be the first gate that will be seen by Jews visiting Poland,” Mr. Rolat told Forbes magazine in 2014, referring to the cynical inscription (“Work sets you free”) that greeted inmates when they entered the main Auschwitz concentration camp.The Polin Museum of the History of Polish Jews sits on the site of the Warsaw Ghetto. Mr. Rolat donated millions for its construction. It opened in 2014.Maciek Nabrdalik for The New York Times“The Jews should first learn our shared history,” he added. “And then, of course, they should see Auschwitz, but with a better understanding of what happened there.”The main exhibition at the museum tells the story of Poland’s Jews over 1,000 years, from the Middle Ages to the present, using artifacts, paintings, replicas and interactive installations.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More