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The Blanton Museum of Art is one of the foremost university art museums in the country and has the largest collection of art in Central Texas.

utaustin:

Alumni Artist Brings Skater Culture to VAC

You’d never know it from the beige brick exterior of UT’s Visual Arts Center, but inside is an underground skateboard world — complete with a clubhouse, a skate ramp, a campfire ring and a mysterious cast of characters known only as the “The Dwellers.”

Artist Michael Sieben, BFA ’99, is the Visual Arts Center’s artist-in-residence this spring, and he’s created the exhibition “It Will All Happen Again.”

For the show, which runs through May 10, Sieben draws inspiration from his childhood and skater culture to fill the two-story gallery. The show’s title references a line from J. M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, and indeed the show explores the line between youth and growing up and trying to hang on to youthful imagination.

[Photos: Sandy Carson]

blakegopnik:

THE DAILY PIC: This is Jim Dine’s hilarious “Hair” (I assume it’s also simply his hair) painted in 1961 and now on view in the survey of the Onnasch collection at Hauser & Wirth's 18th Street space in New York. Judging by this show at least, the German dealer and collector went for gloriously off-beat, even atypical works by some of the best American artists of the postwar years.
This big Dine, six foot square, has hints of Jasper Johns’s peculiar directness – painting-as-skin, here, instead of painting-as-flag in Johns – but it also gets down and dirty as Johns never does. You could also compare it to Ruscha and maybe even, in spirit (and color), to some much later Guston – and of course to the expressive, manly messes of Pollock and other AbEx-ers, which Dine was clearly sending up. (© ARS, NY and DACS, London 2013 Courtesy Onnasch Collection) 
The Daily Pic also appears at blogs.artinfo.com/the-daily-pic. For a full inventory of past Daily Pics visit blakegopnik.com/archive.

blakegopnik:

THE DAILY PIC: This is Jim Dine’s hilarious “Hair” (I assume it’s also simply his hair) painted in 1961 and now on view in the survey of the Onnasch collection at Hauser & Wirth's 18th Street space in New York. Judging by this show at least, the German dealer and collector went for gloriously off-beat, even atypical works by some of the best American artists of the postwar years.

This big Dine, six foot square, has hints of Jasper Johns’s peculiar directness – painting-as-skin, here, instead of painting-as-flag in Johns – but it also gets down and dirty as Johns never does. You could also compare it to Ruscha and maybe even, in spirit (and color), to some much later Guston – and of course to the expressive, manly messes of Pollock and other AbEx-ers, which Dine was clearly sending up. (© ARS, NY and DACS, London 2013 Courtesy Onnasch Collection)

The Daily Pic also appears at blogs.artinfo.com/the-daily-pic. For a full inventory of past Daily Pics visit blakegopnik.com/archive.

I think a good curator is like a good chef. They understand the city’s needs – and fulfill and challenge them. How do curators and artists work with each other? Ideally, it’s a collaboration in which one inspires and challenges the other. The best thing a curator can do is elicit the response, “I didn’t know you could do that,” from the public. The worst thing is to present a show that is no longer relevant.

John Baldessari on the art of curation.

It’s like Hov can’t drop bars these days without at least four art references. I would love to collect [art] at some point, but I think the whole Rap/art world thing is getting kind of corny.

Drake

In response to this quote from Drake from his February interview in Rolling Stone, Jay Z took a stab at the younger rapper with these lyrics: ”Sorry Mrs. Drizzy for so much art talk/ Silly me, rappin’ ‘bout s**t that I really bought/ While these rappers rap about guns that they ain’t shot/ And a bunch of other silly s**t that they ain’t got.’

The hip hop feud about art is happening! (We knew it was only a matter of time.)

shesaidthesethings:

The blantonmuseum always posts up such a grand and wide array of pieces from their collection. The Blantons, the Micheners and so many other generous benefactors have built a very fine museum. It may not yet be the MoMA, nor the Tate or Guggenheim, but anyone would be hard pressed to find a public or private university’s collection of this quality. When paired with the assets at the nearby Harry Ransom Center, the breadth and depth becomes even more impressive.

If I read his two Blanton reblog posts correctly, Mr. Tomarto (of tomayto-tomarto fame and where I have, in the past, occasionally posted as Tomayto) challenges us to compare and contrast Hans Hofmann and Graydon Parrish. The “err” added to the Hofmann post leaves you wondering if Tomarto has cast his stone already or if the verdict is still out.

Art will strike people’s fancy or cause them to turn away or discount. There are some pieces that elicit, a “meh,” too. Someone else I know once remarked about an Ellsworth Kelly, “I can do that,” as if to dismiss or discredit the work a bit.

Therein lies the beauty inherent in all art: If it generates a visceral love or hate response, then it seems reasonable to suggest that the art “worked.” Mission Accomplished, without the banner on a flight deck.

So, one man’s marvelous Monet, may be simply another man’s boring garden painting. Cy Twombly may be a deeply affected genius or a man that managed to get his wild ramblings in ink and oils built into a Renzo Piano-crafted gallery all his own.

To each their own. After all, everyone is entitled to an opinion.

To compare Hofmann and Parrish is akin to comparing apples to oranges. You could, I suppose, call to light the innovative push and pull technique that Hofmann created, while noting Austinite Parrish’s exceptional dedication to atelier.

For me, both pieces hit a chord. The striking use of colors and the varied depths achieved in both artists’ works are tremendous.

Parrish’s Arrangement in Subtle Tones: Elsie is stunning for its realism and ability to capture a modern, iconic American blonde.

Hofmann’s Elysium is every bit as amazing with its bold colors that create tension and demand attention, while bringing a calming sense of order through the arrangement of those colors on the canvas.

It’s worth noting, as the blantonmuseum post of Hofmann suggests, he “encouraged students to branch out in their own independent directions.”

These two artists certainly do just that (and do it quite well, each in their own right.).

Images sourced/cross-posted from the blantonmuseum.

A wonderful discussion of two (seemingly!) unrelated pieces of art we recently posted to our tumblr.

Hans Hofmann, Elysium, 1960, oil on canvas, Gift of Mari and James A. Michener, 1991. Hans Hofmann, X Orange, 1959, oil on canvas, Gift of Mari and James A. Michener, 1991. Hans Hofmann, Cascade, 1960, oil on canvas, Gift of Mari and James A. Michener, 1991.

Happy Birthday to Hans Hofmann, born on this day in 1880!

German immigrant Hans Hofmann founded art schools in the mid-1930s in New York and Provincetown, Massachusetts, and quickly became the most influential art teacher of his generation. He provided countless American students with a thorough understanding of the principles of the European avant-garde, and stressed to them the importance of establishing a dynamic equilibrium of image, surface, and composition in abstract painting. 

Noted for his brilliant understanding of theory and technique, Hofmann was the kind of gifted instructor who encouraged students to branch out in their own independent directions. Among those who studied with him were Louise Nevelson, Alfred Jensen, and Larry Rivers. 

In his own vibrant works, including three in the Blanton’s collection, Hofmann used a Cubist-like, grid-based pictorial structure to impose order upon the wild expressiveness of his high-keyed, opposing colors and rich, impastoed surfaces. His best paintings, like Elysium, created when he was eighty years old, achieve harmony within intensity, and embody both tension and balance. About the title, Hofmann said to collector James Michener, “It’s where old artists go when they die. It’s very clean and simple—only a nest of squares, but they tell everything.”

View zoomable versions of these works on our website.