Catherine G. Wagley, Nov. 24, 2020
Maija Peeples-Bright painted a rare self-portrait in 1996, herself in the center of the composition and her dog immersed in his own reality behind her. In it, she holds a paintbrush in each fist, between ringed fingers with pink- painted nails. A leopard, with a second head in place of a back paw, stretches across her long-sleeved, fitted shirt while parrots and blossoms fill the surrounding space. The artist grins as she stares straight at us, her expression as slightly mischievous as the painting’s title, Oh Maija, Oh Maija, which sounds like a lightly chiding sigh.
Artists have left the programme early after negative experiences—and are now speaking out
Catherine G. Wagley, 7th December 2020
The Archer Studio Building in downtown Tulsa, Oklahoma is located on what was once Black Wall Street. It has big windows and the artists who occupy the building, participants in the Tulsa Artist Fellowship (TAF), are meant to keep these windows open and unobstructed whenever possible, so that passersby can see them at work. The windows can also make artists vulnerable.
Catherine Wagley, September 29, 2020
For weeks, I have been preoccupied with the brilliantly crafted tweets of freelance food and wine writer Tammie Teclemariam, who has been fueling, supporting, and live-tweeting reckonings in food media since early June. Her early grand slam, tweeted alongside a 2004 photo of now-former Bon Appétit editor-in-chief Adam Rapoport in brown face (two anonymous sources sent her the photo, which the editor allegedly kept on his desk),1 read: “I don’t know why Adam Rapoport doesn’t just write about Puerto Rican food for @bonappetit himself!!!”2 Hours later, Rapaport—who, according multiple accounts, nurtured a toxic, discriminatory culture at the publication—had resigned.
Catherine Wagley, July 21, 2020
How a pay-to-play corruption scandal at City Council intersects with Crossroads Hollywood, a glass skyscraper set to demolish a series of historic structures and displace their longtime tenants.
How the debate over LACMA's expansion became one about what a museum should be, who decides—and who should pay for it.
Catherine Wagley, April 1, 2020
At first, it was met with cautious optimism, called “architecturally ambitious” and “powerfully strange.” But eight years later, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s new building project designed by Swiss architect Peter Zumthor has been criticized—sometimes by the very people who praised it initially—as “uninformed” and a “scorched-earth plan.”
Catherine G. Wagley, March 13, 2020
Four men came to our house because they were interested in architecture. They knew someone who knew our landlord, which is how they got our phone numbers. We welcomed them, hoping they might know something about this place where we live, conceived by a muralist who never built anything other than the five buildings in our courtyard and who kept scant records of his work. They knew much less than we do, it turned out. One man wore a heavy flannel jacket over jeans but the other three were dressed like they’d just come from well-appointed Westside offices. They stepped into our living room, uttering “ooohs” and “ahhhs” as they looked up at the room’s pitched ceiling and the faded seahorses, birds, and flowers painted on the rafters. One man told me he liked my style. “Bohemian chic,” he said, gesturing at the furniture around him. “I don’t have any other way to describe it.” He meant this as a compliment but it sounded to me like he was calling me an artsy eccentric, when I had been trying so hard to make pleasurable, intuitive rooms that echoed the house’s unconventional contours. Their awkward presence in our living room reminded me that, despite all the care and affection we put into this place, we are tenants; it is not fully ours.
Catherine G. Wagley, March 17, 2020
It is difficult to write about Ree Morton, as it would be any artist who died under a decade into her career. But Morton poses different challenges from, for instance, Eva Hesse, who was also born in 1936 and died seven years before the car accident that killed Morton in 1977. Hesse had gone to art school as a young woman, started making work in her early twenties and had articulate, well-connected friends (the artists Sol LeWitt and Pat Steir and the critic Lucy Lippard) to design and write her catalogue raisonné and thus ensure the shape of her legacy. Morton, in contrast, lived a full life as a mother of three before becoming a working artist in her mid thirties. The work has been displayed and written about before, usually in brief, when it appeared in group shows and in the scant solo exhibitions she has had since her death, but it has ultimately been seen by few.
Catherine Wagley, March 2, 2020
As a wave of unionization efforts has swept across the museum world, employees have faced plenty of pushback—one case in point being the New Museum’s hiring of a union-busting law firm during a recent labor struggle. But no institution has responded with as much drama and chaos as the Marciano Art Foundation (MAF) in Los Angeles.
The MAF laid off all of its visitor-service associates in November, days after those employees announced their intention to unionize. Soon after, the entire foundation was shuttered for good. The protests, lawsuit, and press that followed have kept the MAF in an unflattering limelight.
Catherine Wagley, March 1, 2020
“Decoration has always been particularly despised in art discourse,” said the late art dealer Holly Solomon decades ago, recalling the time in 1977 she installed a group of “Pattern and Decoration” artists in her booth at Art Basel. “The show was immediately controversial—a bit like the child everyone beats over the head when he’s got nothing better to do.” This off-the-cuff remark sounds dramatic, until you read 1970s–’80s criticism calling out P&D—as Pattern and Decoration was often called—as regressive or just vapid. At the time, Solomon said, “it seemed that all the art shown in every gallery had to look alike.” Minimalism was the institutional darling, but not for Solomon. Once, at her gallery, she hosted a performance by P&D artist Robert Kushner, in which he wore a costume made of tree branches, antique gauze, raffia, and various other materials. Solomon bought the costume for her own collection afterward, and, when Kushner delivered it to her apartment, casually placed it beside a painting by very- much-established Jasper Johns.