Tag Archives: reviews

Icarus Redeemed: Rebecca Horn

Rebecca Horn. Still from performance of <em>Körperfächer</em>, 1972, from <em>Performances II</em>, 1970-73. Courtesy of the artist and Sean Kelly Gallery, New York.

Performances II (1970-1973)

Rebecca Horn

Video documentation of various performances

"WACK! Art and The Feminist Revolution" at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (MOCA), and The National Museum of Women in the Arts, Washington, D.C., 2007

"White Body Fan" (1972)

She stands facing us, arms reaching above her head, a translucent sky behind her. Three horizontal straps cross her torso. Giant white wings of fabric tremble with her effort to hold them up as she slowly moves them. It is like being above a massive, white, resting butterfly; she closes the wings towards us, hiding herself, and reopens. As she tips the fan from side to side, we see her figure/the white sky/the wing-like body fan.

In a wider view she is full figure, standing on sand, unfurling the body fan from a resting position to form a perfect circle around her inset body, further held in place by four straps on each leg. Straps segment the looser fabric of her blue shirt and jeans, making her body caterpillar-like from the side.

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Posted in ISSUE #4 WINTER 2008 | Also tagged , | Leave a comment

“Mythic Creatures” – American Natural History Museum, New York, N.Y.

On an otherwise normal summer afternoon, I found myself face-to-face with a feejee mermaid. Though the diminutive fish-like creature was restrained both by death and a glass box, its barred fangs and extended claws were frightful. What man imagined this beast? His name may be lost to the annals of history, but it is possible [... more ...]
Posted in ISSUE #3 FALL 2007 | Also tagged | Leave a comment

From the Ministry of Silly Walks: Francis Alÿs at David Zwirner, New York, Winter 2007

Though my Stone Roses T-shirt provided little cushioning, the Kalashnikov’s barrel didn’t much hurt when the militiaman used it to prod at my chest. I kept asking myself why I felt so calm. A general placidity blossomed in me like an opiate as soon as the barefoot man appeared with his rifle, seemingly out of [... more ...]
Posted in ISSUE #2 SPRING/SUMMER 2007 | Also tagged , , | Leave a comment