June 2, 2008 |
The pigeons are hungry. They march, single-mindedly, beaks thrust forward, beady eyes darting, crisscrossing the stones of St. Mark's Square, moving in undulating formation across the open spaces, whirring like helicopters in the distance, dive-bombing at the first hint of a piece of bread or a chip. Soot-gray, with spindly coral-colored legs and claws, many just pace, pecking at stone in the hopes it will yield a crumb. This fabled city's plan to starve away the pigeons seems to be working.
June 29, 2007 |
Felix Gonzalez-Torres, who died of AIDS-related complications at 38 in 1996, is the second American to be posthumously represented in the high-profile American pavilion at the Venice Biennale. Unfortunately, the show mostly represents a lost opportunity for any of scores of living American artists. When Robert Smithson was so honored in 1982, nine years after his untimely death at 35, the privilege was crucial to securing his international reputation.
June 9, 2007 |
The world's oldest and most prestigious contemporary art fair opens Sunday in Venice, Italy, kicking off what promises to be the European art season of the decade as four premier events align in an unusual convergence that is generating extraordinary buzz. After this weekend's opening of the 52nd Venice Biennale, three other events kick off in quick succession over the following week: Art Basel in Switzerland; Documenta in Kassel, Germany; and the Muenster Sculpture Project, also in Germany.
May 27, 2007 |
CALL them the slob police. Officials in Venice -- as well as the handful of actual Italians still living in the lagoon city -- have declared themselves fed up with a certain category of tourist: the pot-bellied, bare-chested, food-chomping, trash-spewing hordes that peak from now until autumn. To combat what they see as a scourge, Venice authorities are distributing leaflets and posting posters with a new set of rules. In St.
December 11, 2005 |
The warning siren howls in the dark. As always, the flood arrives on the tide. Water slops over the rim of the city's canals, bubbles up through drains and, as the morning hours progress, surges into the ground-floor vestibules of palaces along the Grand Canal. It leaves stripes on sills, green and brown with a sticky scum of sewage.
September 26, 2005 |
The truth is, people like to talk. Even when they probably shouldn't. Even when they know John Berendt, his shrewd eyes belying a sympathetic smile, is sitting right across from them, absorbing every word, preparing to serve it all back up later in a stew of a book that will divulge their personal darkness to the world. "People start out very guarded," Berendt says, "and then they relax and tell you their story." They talk over formal interviews and dinners, drinks and long walks.