Skip to main content

The Sublime Revisited @ Ann Street Gallery

Installation view (Rachael Wren on right) of The Sublime Revisited @ Ann Street Gallery



The Sublime Revisited examines how contemporary artists explore the diverse and sometimes conflicting ideas of the sublime, with themes in relation to the awesome, the beautiful, terror, nature, technology, transcendence, and altered states. Works on view will provide a philosophical and cultural context for discourse around the sublime in art as it has evolved over time from the writings of Longinus, Burke and Kant to present day.

The exhibit features works by: Toby Barnes, Dennis Cady, Bryan Christie, Liz Ensz, Snow Yunxue Fu, Abhi Ghuge, Aron Johnston, Christopher Lonegan, 
George Lorio, Caitlin McCormack, Kyle McKenzie, Sophia Narrett, Chee Wang Ng, Eric Norby, Jaeman Shin, Raphael Fenton-Spaid, Ana Vizcarra Rankin, Rachael Wren, and William Ruller.

The Sublime Revisited is curated by Virginia Walsh, Director of the Ann Street Gallery.


The Sublime Revisited
September 14 - October 26, 2013
Ann Street Gallery
104 Ann Street
Newburgh, NY 12550

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Retrospective: Sylvester Stallone - Paintings 1975 - 2015

Sylvester Stallone, Untitled (Michael Jackson) , 2010 Real Love: Paintings 1975 - 2015 Opened on May 16th Musée d'Art Moderne et d'Art Contemporaine Place Yves Klein 06364 Nice cedex 4 For more information visit artnet news .

Franz Kline: In Color

Franz Kline (1910-1962) is often pigeonholed as a "black and white" painter. Above is a selection of work by the Ab-Ex master in which color merges with gesture and at times takes center stage.

After Lorca By Ted Hughes

Arshile Gorky, Dark Green Painting , ca.1948, oil on canvas, 43 3/4 x 55 1/2 in. © 2009 Estate of Arshile Gorky/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. AFTER LORCA by Ted Hughes The clock says "When will it be morning?"   The sun says "Noon hurt me."  The river cries with its mouthful of mud  And the sea moves every way without moving. Out of my ear grew a reed   Never touched by mouth.  Paper yellows, even without flame,  But in words carbon has already become diamond. A supple river of mirrors I run on   Where great shadows rise to the glance,  Flowing all forward and bringing  The world through my reflection. A voice like a ghost that is not   Rustle that dead in passage  Leaving the living chilled,  Wipe clear the pure glass of stone. Wipe clear the pure stone of flesh. A son...