In Art, Scandal Is A False Narrative,

Galleries Began Growing In Both Number And Size In The Late Seventies, When Artists Who Worked In Lofts Wanted To Exhibit Their Work In Spaces Similar To The Ones The Art Was Made In.

I Think That A Lot Of Artists Have Succeeded In Making What I Might Call "curator's Art." Everybody's Being Accepted, And I Always Want To Say, "really? That's What You've Come For? To Make Art That Looks A Lot Like Somebody Else's Art?" If I Am Thinking Of Somebody Else's Art In Front Of Your Art, That's A Problem.

Art Schools Are Partly The Villain Here. (never Mind That I Teach In Them.) This Generation Of Artists Is The First To Have Been So Widely Credentialed, And Its Young Members So Fetishize The Work Beloved By Their Teachers That Their Work Ceases To Talk About Anything Else. Instead Of Enlarging Our View Of Being Human, It Contains Safe Rehashing Of Received Ideas About Received Ideas. This Is A Melancholy Romance With Artistic Ruins, Homesickness For A Bygone Era. This Yearning May Be Earnest, But It Stunts Their Work, And By Turn The Broader Culture.

Elizabeth Peyton, The Artist Known For Tiny, Dazzling Portraits Of Radiant Youth, Is Now Painting Tiny, Dazzling Portraits Of Radiant Middle Age.

Poor Georgia O'keeffe. Death Didn't Soften The Opinions Of The Art World Toward Her Paintings.