The artist Peter Shire’s rainbow-colored abstract sculptures often sell for more than the price of a modest car. But at Echo Park Pottery, his ceramics studio in Los Angeles, he also makes chunky, colorfully glazed mugs that go for under 0. Pieces from both parts of Shire’s practice will be for sale in New York next month at the new design fair Object & Thing, whose founder, Abby Bangser, a former artistic director of the Frieze art fairs, hopes to “break down the hierarchy between art and design objects by exhibiting everything equally together.” Held in the Brooklyn venue 99 Scott from May 3 to May 5, the event will showcase over 200 objects, consigned by 32 top-tier international galleries and created by a diverse range of artist-designers and designer-artists. There will be shaggy fabric-adorned chairs by the American painter Lucy Dodd, NASA-inspired vessels by the artist Tom Sachs, kachina dolls by the Navajo artists of Shiprock Santa Fe gallery, and fabric sculptures by the Brazilian artist Sonia Gomes.
Forgoing the traditional booth model, in which each gallery funds and curates its own small exhibition, the fair will instead comprise groupings of works designed to evoke the unexpected way objects are combined in real homes. “Significant booth fees mean you need to bring significantly priced pieces, but a lot of design doesn’t need to be at those prices,” explains Bangser. The fair’s artistic director, the designer Rafael de Cárdenas, has arranged the works thematically on clusters of plinths made from reusable construction materials — cardboard tubes, glass and steel — as well as in an area he refers to as “the ideal home,” a living space with a Martino Gamper console, a Marc Hundley bench and a Peter Shire shelf.
To make the fair as accessible as possible, Bangser has also invited nine design boutiques, including the Primary Essentials and Playmountain East, to set up shop in the space and sell their own wares directly, many priced below 0. While she hopes Object & Thing will inspire a new approach to engaging with art and design objects, she didn’t want to lose what she describes as the “energy and community gathering aspect” of a traditional fair. To that end, there will be a series of public panel discussions — moderated by the writer and curator Glenn Adamson — while in the venue’s garden, food will be provided by the restaurateur Andrew Tarlow. Daylight, 99 Scott’s new cafe offering natural wines and food, will open specially for the event. From May 3 through May 5, 99 Scott, New York — ALICE NEWELL-HANSON
During the two and a half years that he lived in Berlin, Stephen Malkmus’s biggest musical breakthrough came from unplugging his guitar — and turning on his laptop. The former Pavement frontman recently released the down and dirty electronic album “Groove Denied,” which was at first rejected by his longtime label, Matador, in favor of the rock-focused (and also very good) 2018 album “Sparkle Hard.” A surprisingly natural transition into more experimental dance music, “Groove Denied” blends post-punk rhythms and electronica beats with the indie rock sounds that Malkmus has spent the last 30 or so years perfecting. Speaking to T about the record, he said he “wasn’t out there to bum-rush the music scene,” referring to his outsider status in Berlin. But while dipping a toe in the city’s storied dance-club and party scene, he noted, “People were kind of just doing their own thing — playing laptopy fusion music,” and asked himself, “What would it sound like if I messed with that?”
Recently, Malkmus contributed the original song “Airplane Air” to T’s Culture issue — for which artists created original works that imagine America in 2024 — an entrancing, fragmented track that occupies the same sonic landscape as “Groove Denied” and which he described as “how I imagine your brain sounds like coming off anti-depressants.” While political songs are not standard fare in his repertoire, both his last two records include tracks that address class, social and political issues to varying degrees, such as the rebellious “Ocean of Revenge” on “Groove Denied.” Asked if he feels a responsibility for his music to confront our country’s growing divisions, he said, “I think you have to address the personal, the social and how it relates. Lyrically, I like to blur things and to not always know what things mean. But it needs to be honest.” — DANIEL WAGNER
If there’s anything I’ve learned from working at T Magazine, it’s that we love a quilt. Their beauty — the simplicity of working within a quadrilateral figure and their plain geometry — evokes ideas such as community, sisterhood and craft. Beginning April 25, the French label A.P.C. will launch a new line of quilts designed by its longtime collaborator Jessica Ogden (who made an early name for herself repurposing vintage quilts into clothing and launched the brand’s first quilt collection in 2010 with founder Jean Touitou) inspired by music. The quilts are a nod to some of the Western canon’s greatest composers — Chopin, Bach — with names such as “Prelude in E” or “Fugue in C.” Cushions have also been given the names usually meant to indicate instructions on a score (“crescendo” or “andante”). Ogden, who was born in Jamaica, asked the French photographer Alfredo Piola to shoot the quilts and cushions atop the country’s Blue Mountain Peak. Something about the vibrancy of the quilt and cushions’ diagonal lines reminds me of reading a score, in the way that musical notes can bounce or run across the page. Mozart once famously said music should always “flatter and adore,” and I suspect Ogden may have taken such instructions to heart. apc-us.com — THESSALY LA FORCE
The record collector Greg Wooten can still feel the original thrill of finding a copy of Jefferson Airplane’s “Bark” LP at Amoeba Music in Los Angeles about five years ago. It was far from mint condition. Instead, drawn directly on the brown paper sleeve were jagged marijuana leaves and a row of joints. “The employee who had put it in the ‘staff picks’ bin stuck on a Post-it note saying something like, ‘Of all the years seeing defaced records, this must be the coolest one I’ve ever seen,’” Wooten, a co-founder of the vintage design store the Window in Los Angeles and of the modern art and design auction house Billings, remembers. “And I thought, ‘I’m buying this, this is so awesome.’ That opened the door to the possibility that there would be more out there.”
He’s since amassed about 1,500 more defaced records — with the help of friends or friends of friends — a selection of which are featured in the coming book “Marred for Life!,” the brainchild of Wooten and Jason Fulford, a photographer and the co-publisher of J&L Books. There’s a mustachioed Donna Summer on “Bad Girls” and an unrecognizable Paul Simon, his face painted with blue polka dots; on the cover of an album called “New Music for Harp,” a woman is shown playing the instrument with a hand-drawn speech bubble that reads, “It’s too heavy!” But Wooten’s favorites might be a pair of Jimi Hendrix records — “Electric Ladyland” and “Band of Gypsys” — marked up using a pencil eraser and unearthed a year apart. “I keep thinking, ‘It’s got to be from the same person,’” Wooten says. “How was I lucky enough to bring them back together? It’s a sign from the universe, showing what a prankster it is.” , arcanabooks.com — HILARY MOSS
On the seventh floor of Bergdorf Goodman in New York, the British designer Kit Kemp has installed a hotel suite of sorts, lavishly outfitted with her ravishing, high-spirited fabrics, wallpapers and furniture. There is a canopied bed with a pale gray headboard embroidered with fairy-tale scenes — a pink antelope flies past blue clouds and a tree branch heavy with yellow pears. In a nearby dining area is a table set for dinner with Kemp’s Sailor’s Farewell china for Wedgwood. And in an adjacent living room, there are plump sofas and embroidered throw pillows that come in cranberry, French blue, lime and cream. I wouldn’t mind holing up here for a while — which is not surprising given that Kemp is the co-owner and creative director of the Firmdale hotels in New York and London, which are similarly decorated with her whimsical but luxurious signature style, a mix of lively colors and brilliantly mismatched patterns. Many years ago, her designs rescued me from my love affair with minimalism.
“I wanted to do three vignettes at Bergdorf’s: a bedroom, a sitting room and a dining area,” said Kemp recently as she stood near a grass-green sofa in the living space. As exuberantly English as her work is, she noted, “I’m a big fan of American folk art.” You see it in some of the objects, which include a cat house with a smaller mouse house inside and a faux naïve pottery candlestick fashioned like a pair of unicorns. For the finishing touches there are embroidered table linens, shell boxes, pretty notebooks and a new gardenia-scented soap — and everything is for sale. So, if you have ever wanted to take home something marvelous from one of the hotels, now’s your chance to do it. Through Aug. 12 at Bergdorf Goodman, 754 5th Avenue, Seventh Floor, New York — REGGIE NADELSON
Until recently, boxes overflowing with photographs, videotapes and other ephemera from 1980s New York were taking over Paige Powell’s Oregon home. “They were in the garage, in the bureaus. They were stashed all over,” she explains. From the moment she arrived in New York in 1980, Powell — who worked at Interview magazine for 13 years — documented everything. In particular, she photographed her “nonbiological family,” which included Andy Warhol, Keith Haring, Stephen Sprouse and her one-time boyfriend Jean-Michel Basquiat. “I was living in clubs, bars, galleries, art studios,” she continues. “I lost a lot of friends to AIDS and drug overdoses. But at the same time, the city was raging with creativity.”
After moving back to Portland in 1994, Powell, who is a passionate animal rights activist, turned her attention to nonprofit animal protection organizations, though she has exhibited her own photographs several times, too. Last year, when Gucci began renovating its store at 63 Wooster Street, it set about looking for image makers who’d had a part to play in SoHo’s colorful history to celebrate. Powell was, of course, a clear fit, so the brand set about bringing her 14-year archive to life.
The result is “Paige Powell,” a trio of books in a single sleeve published by Dashwood Books, which separates Powell’s photographs and collected keepsakes into three individual volumes. One, “Beulah Land,” is a visual diary of her life (its title refers to the late-night Manhattan art bar where she pasted hundreds of doodled-on photographs to the walls and ceiling in an immersive exhibition in 1984); a second, “Artists Eating,” is a voyeuristic insight into the social mealtimes that bookend so many artists’, writers’ and musicians’ days spent alone in the studio; and finally, “Animals” documents her other great love.
The publication’s launch this week coincides with a recreation of the “Beulah Land” installation at Gucci, which will run until May 17 in the store. Sorting through the mass of material was an emotional process, Powell says; but happily, her own rich record of the city’s artistic coming-of-age will now grace bureaus and bookshelves the world over. “I never looked at it like I was documenting a particular era,” she says. “You don’t, until you get perspective on it.” — MAISIE SKIDMORE
In 1938, André Breton described Mexico as “the Surrealist place par excellence.” Many of his contemporaries, seeking refuge from World War II and bolstered by the country’s generous immigration policies, would come to agree, and so a movement born in the cafes of Europe found new life amid mountains and volcanoes. “Surrealism in Mexico,” which will open next week at Di Donna Galleries on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, looks at this lesser-known chapter of the movement, presenting works by Leonora Carrington, Max Ernst, Gordon Onslow Ford, Remedios Varo, Bridget Bate Tichenor and others. There are also four paintings by Frida Kahlo, who resisted the Surrealist label but whose Casa Azul became a frequent gathering place for the group.
Describing an aesthetic split in the featured works, the gallery founder, Emmanuel Di Donna, says, “On the one hand, you have Onslow Ford, Wolfgang Paalen and Matta, who made more abstract images concerned with nature and the cosmos, and on the other you have Varo and Carrington, who were more about myth and legend.” Yet traces of the artists’ adopted home — as well as those of their abandoned one and the disorienting sense of existing somewhere in between — appear throughout. The vibrant, blocky brush strokes in Paalen’s painting “Tropical Night” nod to a pre-Columbian mosaic mask; Gunther Gerzso’s “Paricutín” — named after the Michoacán volcano that erupted, along with so many bombs, in 1943 — shows a field of jagged plants enmeshed in lava; and Varo’s “Hallazgo” depicts travelers aboard a whimsical ship making its way to a levitating pearl that might symbolize safety or self-actualization. “It was experimental ground for them,” says Di Donna. “They brought some of their baggage, but they left with something else.” A few of the émigrés, Varo among them, never left at all, enjoying a freedom they hadn’t known in Europe and making work that attests to the importance of fostering creative havens for our own surreal times. Through June 28 at Di Donna Galleries, 744 Madison Avenue, New York, didonna.com — KATE GUADAGNINO
In 1984, while teaching art to special education students at a South Bronx middle school, the artist and educator Tim Rollins founded the Art and Knowledge Workshop, an after-school program that was part homework club, part atelier. Together with some of his most talented students, Rollins formed the collective Kids of Survival (or K.O.S.) and started making collaborative works that explored literature, art history and themes of race and colonialism. Soon, their pieces — large canvases collaged with pages of books and painted with bold graphics and abstractions — were being shown at the Whitney Biennial and collected by major museums. On Thursday, “Tim Rollins and K.O.S.: Workshop,” the first solo survey of the collective’s work since Rollins’s passing in 2017, opened at Lehmann Maupin gallery.
The day before the opening, Angel Abreu and Rick Savinon, two early collective members who worked with Rollins for more than 30 years, were walking through the gallery to see the work on the walls. “It’s like going through an old photo album,” said Savinon. “You wish some of those people were still here to see it.” Abreu and Savinon were 12 and 15, respectively, in the mid ’80s when they started attending Rollins’s workshop at a studio in the South Bronx. As a teacher, Rollins made an instant impression. “He’d say, ‘This isn’t a glitter art class, we’re not doing construction paper — you’re going to learn about art history,” said Savinon. “He demanded respect, but he also gave a lot of respect to all of us.” Together, Rollins and some of the students would read aloud from books — Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man,” Franz Kafka’s “Amerika” — while others drew, taking images and inspiration from the books and their personal experiences. Eventually, they would collaborate on a larger piece as though it was, in Abreu’s words, “a giant quilt.”
The Lehmann Maupin exhibition is both a memorial to Rollins, who Abreu and Savinon describe as a mentor and a father figure, and a continuation of his legacy. As part of the show, current K.O.S. members will host a workshop — planned for June 10, Rollins’s birthday — with students at New York’s School of Visual Art, where they’ll make work based on James Baldwin’s “The Fire Next Time.” “Tim’s not here physically,” said Savinon, “but I can see him in the paintings.” Through June 15 at Lehmann Maupin gallery, 536 West 22nd Street, New York, lehmannmaupin.com — MERRELL HAMBLETONB:
二中二怎么是怎么买【苏】【佩】【玖】【躺】【在】【手】【术】【室】【里】，【神】【情】【异】【常】【的】【清】【醒】，【给】【她】【处】【理】【伤】【口】【的】【医】【生】【看】【着】【苏】【佩】【玖】【咬】【着】【一】【块】【布】，【忍】【痛】【不】【叫】【的】【样】【子】，【十】【分】【的】【心】【疼】。 【医】【生】【是】【一】【位】【女】【士】，【姓】【赵】，【头】【发】【已】【经】【有】【些】【白】【了】，【年】【纪】【也】【不】【小】【了】，【是】【席】【老】【特】【意】【从】【军】【区】【医】【院】【调】【过】【来】【的】【医】【生】，【丈】【夫】【早】【逝】，【无】【儿】【无】【女】，【签】【署】【了】【保】【密】【协】【议】，【算】【是】【他】【们】【第】【壹】【局】【大】【夫】【中】【的】【招】【牌】【了】。 【苏】【佩】【玖】【没】
【唐】【九】【芊】【回】【来】【之】【后】【师】【姐】【们】【就】【开】【始】【叽】【叽】【喳】【喳】【问】，“【抽】【到】【第】【几】【啦】？【对】【面】【圣】【女】【是】【第】【几】【知】【道】【不】？” “【第】【九】，【我】【们】【看】【到】，【可】【能】【在】【我】【后】【面】【吧】。”【唐】【九】【芊】【道】。 【师】【姐】【们】【一】【看】【她】【是】【在】【前】【边】，【赶】【紧】【围】【成】【一】【圈】【给】【她】【温】【习】【功】【课】。 “【记】【得】【那】【一】【招】【兰】【花】【绽】【一】【定】【要】【有】【那】【种】【幽】【静】【的】【感】【觉】！” “【还】【有】【还】【有】” 【唐】【九】【芊】【晕】【头】【转】【向】，【连】【前】【边】
【首】【先】，【作】【者】【很】【惭】【愧】，【我】【想】【说】【这】【不】【是】【太】【监】，【而】【是】【请】【假】。 【而】【为】【什】【么】【要】【请】【假】【呢】，【那】【是】【因】【为】“【太】【累】【了】”……【工】【作】【之】【余】【除】【了】【吃】【饭】，【就】【是】【睡】【觉】，【已】【经】【挤】【不】【出】【时】【间】【来】【写】【作】【了】。 【要】【知】【道】【一】【天】【写】【两】【章】4000【字】，【需】【要】【花】【最】【少】【两】【个】【小】【时】【的】【时】【间】，【但】【我】【抽】【不】【出】【来】。【上】【个】【月】【勉】【强】【抽】【出】【来】【了】，【是】【从】【我】【的】【睡】【眠】【时】【间】【里】【硬】【抽】【出】【来】【的】——【但】——【身】
“【不】【用】【师】【伯】【师】【祖】【烧】【烤】【啦】，【我】【也】【可】【以】【帮】【忙】【的】~”【阿】【梅】【在】【一】【旁】【终】【于】【找】【到】【话】【题】，【轻】【言】【细】【语】【的】【努】【了】【努】【小】【嘴】。 【刁】【颜】【听】【后】，【微】【微】【摇】【头】【笑】【了】【笑】：“【你】【呀】，【好】【好】【修】【炼】【才】【是】。” “【啊】~【徒】【孙】【知】【道】【了】~” 【阿】【梅】【眨】【了】【眨】【眼】【睛】，【有】【些】【失】【落】。【失】【落】【这】【进】【步】【龟】【缩】【的】【修】【为】，【都】【让】【师】【祖】【大】【人】【提】【醒】【了】。 【唉】，【看】【来】【自】【己】【还】【是】【太】【弱】【了】【啊】，【只】【是】【修】【炼】二中二怎么是怎么买【新】【书】《【飘】【渺】【踏】【天】【记】》，【求】【大】【家】【过】【来】【看】【看】【吧】( ｰ̀εｰ́ ）
【林】【淑】【贞】【听】【得】【两】【眼】【发】【黑】，【摇】【摇】【欲】【坠】【地】【几】【乎】【快】【要】【站】【不】【稳】。 【她】【连】【忙】【拉】【过】【一】【旁】【的】【椅】【子】，【瘫】【坐】【在】【上】【头】【大】【口】【大】【口】【地】【深】【呼】【吸】，【以】【平】【息】【纹】【乱】【不】【堪】【的】【心】【跳】。 【楚】【志】【天】【静】【静】【地】【看】【着】【林】【梦】【茵】，【沉】【思】【了】【片】【刻】【后】，【便】【对】【楚】【昊】【说】：“【阿】【昊】，【梦】【儿】【口】【口】【声】【声】【说】【确】【有】【其】【事】，【你】【怎】【么】【回】【答】？” “【呵】。”【楚】【昊】【冷】【笑】【一】【声】，“【我】【刚】【刚】【已】【经】【回】【答】【过】。”
【我】【想】【我】【真】【的】【该】【走】【了】，【离】【开】【这】【海】【棠】【珠】【缀】【的】【妖】【娆】【锦】【绣】，【离】【开】【那】【片】【猩】【猩】【作】【态】【的】【情】【深】【似】【海】，【离】【开】【这】【汪】【低】【入】【尘】【埃】【的】【踽】【踽】【独】【行】。 【这】【本】【是】【我】【一】【个】【人】【的】【相】【思】，【却】【终】【成】【镜】【花】【水】【月】【的】【泡】【影】，【独】【坐】【穷】【山】【的】【离】【殇】。 【千】【赫】【说】，【我】【的】【眼】【瞎】【了】。 【田】【橙】【说】，【云】【络】【不】【是】【良】【人】。 【所】【有】【人】【都】【看】【得】【清】，【独】【独】【我】【自】【欺】【欺】【人】【的】【沉】【迷】【他】【的】【温】【情】【里】，【斩】【钉】【截】【铁】