At his best, Frank’s manner of pictorial organization recalls Kandinsky’s work from the early 1910s, but it is enacted with a more frenzied sense of color.

The viewer is almost uneasy, as though they inadvertently snuck into a mysteriously quiet and private backstage area—a pause in time before sweaty, noisy, preparatory work will resume.

Biggs may be a pioneer, but she rarely travels alone.

Those who knew him, even on a professional level, as I did, recognized that his eccentric, dynamic personality—full of wit and caustic humor—was reflected in all his artistic endeavors, including the works on view here.

Xingzi magically conjures that awful sense of being left behind—the palpable depression of missing the one you love.

In so doing, she simultaneously points to how “grooming” can refer to either preening oneself to attract a partner or manipulating a child into sexual abuse.

Yet unlike Parrish, these images have not sprung from her imagination: she paints the places she has lived, invested in a political exploration of her natural landscape—not only of Superfunds, but immigrant farm workers, abandoned Navy Yards, the curated growth within gardens.

Known for abstract paintings, sculptures, and installations in encaustic, glass, marble, and experimental materials such as natural resins, Pavel Kraus died suddenly of a heart attack on April 15. He was 77. Kraus’s work and career, extending over five decades, encompassed a thorough assimilation of mid-twentieth-century Eastern European avant-garde styles, as well as the dynamics […]

At times, we even feel empathy for his subjects—imagine that.

While realized in a quasi-abstract visual language of reductive forms and spare color, each painting evokes a sense of wonder at the setting moon.