Would Black art-making be as visible today without the clamor and interdictions of Black Lives Matter? Do white institutions still matter in the exhibition of Black art-making in America? Did we need the spectacular valorization of Black lives as victims before a century’s worth of Black art-making could actually be presented as art by and about actual humans and an integral part of the human experience?
Installation view of 20/20: The Studio Museum in Harlem and Carnegie Museum of Art. Photo: Bryan Conley
In his painting The Monongahela River Valley, Pennsylvania, the Scottish-born, self-taught John Kane offers an ode to the ever-growing industrialization in his adopted hometown of Pittsburgh. Painted in 1931, and now part of the collection at The Met, the landscape that Kane captured borders on pastoral. In the foreground, white fog tumbles from smokestacks set against perfect blue skies, while copper-hued factories rise from the banks on either side of the river as if extensions of the soil itself.
People once thought of the Internet as a place we would eventually be able to go. There, we would live second lives, as custom-made second selves, in virtual worlds that held parallels to our real ones. These avatars of ours would go to work in virtual conference spaces, cycle through virtual outfits. We were going to shop at virtual stores, browse lifelike 3-D models of real things. After all, people were already designing and selling virtual goods and virtual pets—and in some cases, making big money from virtual real estate.
Carolee Schneemann’s performance of ABC We Print Anything—In The Cards (1976–77)—a collaborative event between Carnegie Museum of Art and Pittsburgh Filmmakers (October 28–29, 1978)—was part of a three-day extravaganza that included two Schneemann performances; several film screenings; and lengthy discussions of her process across film, kinetic theater, and the “lecture” as an art form. Schneemann had been experimenting with activated lectures and with a form that she came to call gesture-video, since 1965.
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Artist collective Transformazium wants you to know there is already a long history of arts and culture in Braddock that doesn’t need to be revitalized.
For over 20 years, Pittsburgh residents Karl and Jennifer Salatka have been active members and voices at Carnegie Museum of Art. While today they possess a collection vibrant with key modern era artists and their own unique personal aesthetic, neither of them began the journey with a background in art history or even a familiarity with the Museum of Art. Avid curiosity and a self-motivation to learn have guided the Salatkas towards embracing a newfound passion for art.
There, in Umuahia, on a rainy afternoon, a dead man was moved on a stretcher from the hospital ward to the morgue. The man was the age of my father, whom I was sitting beside. I remember noting, as I glanced at each man, that they radiated a similar serenity.