Not reading Roussel is similar to never having eaten a pomegranate: never having pulled apart the brittle skin, peeled back the bitter membrane, bit into each seed for a tiny…
Hartung’s films constantly call attention to their status as constructed images, refusing the viewer any illusion that they might be visions of reality.
I’m aware that I’m in a safe room with my materials, doing this thing that I love, while in the larger world there’s something really fucked up going on.
What sort of conceptualist is Kim, and what sort of pure painter, and to what purpose is the demarcation?
He lets the direct sound from his digital camera stand, so that everyone speaks in their own voices, and together give the film its title.
Not reading Roussel is similar to never having eaten a pomegranate: never having pulled apart the brittle skin, peeled back the bitter membrane, bit into each seed for a tiny squirt of juice, ending up with a red-stained shirt.
Hartung’s films constantly call attention to their status as constructed images, refusing the viewer any illusion that they might be visions of reality.
I’m aware that I’m in a safe room with my materials, doing this thing that I love, while in the larger world there’s something really fucked up going on.
What sort of conceptualist is Kim, and what sort of pure painter, and to what purpose is the demarcation?
He lets the direct sound from his digital camera stand, so that everyone speaks in their own voices, and together give the film its title.
undun doesn’t exactly tell the story of Redford Stephens, but it Scotch-tapes a series of Polaroids from his life to a wall that is unsightly with structural dampness.
Epstein’s discerning eye for tantalizing details could have earned him a lucrative career as a gossip columnist in another life, but Gossip thrives on meatier substances.
Tomboy paints that moment, poised on the cusp of adolescence, when make-believe can still be guileless.