The meeting of photography and painting is dangerous ground. The two mediums are utterly different and are assessed and understood in completely different ways. One medium implies time while the other captures it and the creation of the illusion of
One of our favourite art movies [movies about or by artists] is Martin Scorsese’s Life Lessons, a short film that makes up the first third of the 1990 portmanteau project New York Stories. Unlike the chapters by Woody Allen and
The headline goes at the top, to the side, or at the bottom, sometimes across the first two pages of the story, and laid out in a way that lets you know what the story is about. Magazines use puns
Last week we had a technical glitch which meant we couldn’t publish on Thursday. Our apologies to regular readers who, expecting a new update, logged in and found community notice board type announcements and press releases. It was starting to
Locked Gate, Loaded Gun: 50 minute radio documentary featureABC Radio National, Radio Eye, Wednesday July 13 @ 1.05pm Also vailable on the Web – http://www.abc.net.au/rn/arts/radioeye Is the wilderness still wild, when the urban din intrudes? That’s the question filmmaker and
Latest issue, not related Back in March 2004 we ran a short piece on the break up of Craftsman House and the sale of their titles Art Asia Pacific and Art & Australia. To be frank, we had completely forgotten
Everyone wants to get paid. That’s the bottom line of making and selling art in the Australian art world. If you’re not interested in the vicissitudes of representation, of dealers, of markets and sales, if you’re only interested in making
[Tracey Moffatt] now spends much of her time in New York, but is in Australia three times a year, and keeps closely in touch with the Australian art world. Since 1997 Moffatt has been represented by Sydney’s prestigious Roslyn Oxley
There was this artist we met once who told us all about his early career just after he got out of art school. Experimenting with layering paint and colours, the artist really felt he was on to something, but what
God, how we love airports. We love the impersonal atmosphere, the transient empty spaces, the chilly air conditioning, the smell of stale smoke and the distant tang of air fuel. Sure, we have an irrational fear of being blown up,