Working with artists and in art spaces in other parts of the world, beautiful exchanges of ideas often happen — which creates artistic growth, empathy, and new understandings. All of these acts can illuminate what lies hidden or repressed in the margins or shadows. New ideas can be brought to life. These ideas can lead to small or large changes in attitudes and even society. Holland is a crowded space. Our history is filled with stories about how we made land out of the water and tamed the deadly seas.
Honoured by writers, poets, and painters. It was invented here in the 17th century, with low horizons and great cloudy skies. Millions of landscapes were painted here by the great masters as Rembrandt, Ruysdael, Hobbema, Weissenbruch, Mauve, van Gogh and Mondriaan.
All were inspired by our flat landscape and big horizons. It is this centuries-long tradition in which I stand. But, our landscape is changing. Our ever-growing population is altering the look of the land. Cities grow and our landscape history is sinking beneath concrete, buildings, and tarmac.
So, as an artist, I not only want the world to see the beauty of the Dutch landscape, I also want to grow awareness about the lasting visible traces in the landscape. From our year-old megalithic monuments to our recent day modern windmills. As a photographic detective, I search for stories about our landscape. We have to be careful with this landscape which is difficult with so little space and more than 17 million inhabitants. That's why I decided to donate 10 percent of all my income to the organizations that protect the Dutch landscape.
That's the least I can do as an artist — t o protect the horizon. As we live in a global village, we are somehow all connected via some form of social media. Artists are no longer hermits and we are all "out there [in the world]". I hope my role as an artist is to inspire, connect, and collaborate! My abstract works are paintings and drawings at the same time.
Paintings of geometric and organic shapes and lines, composed of layers of ink, acrylic, and other mediums allude to the gestural surface marks of Abstract Expressionism. My paintings reflect not only with the radical conflict between the two "colorless" colors black and white , but also their interaction and interdependence. There is a historical richness here, the temporal quality of landscape ink painting, the physical strength and boldness of the black ink and its generosity and infinite possibilities.
We live in an ever more intricate society where every individual regardless of its specific role plays an important part in the social biodiversity of the world. Artists have been crucial from the very beginning of our existence.
From prehistoric cave paintings to frescos around the world, to scientific drawings, to the avant-garde movements, artists have contributed to expanding human evolution from many different perspectives. This expansion, much like the universe, is still going on and artists still play an important role.
I see myself as part of a community whose work as a global force contributes to this human growth. There is a crescent complexity in the way the art world evolves and the myriad agents who orbit around it are intimately interlaced with artists and their production.
His oeuvre deliberately crosses between abstraction and realism, photography and painting, as if searching for the truly authentic image. Whether through a richly coloured portrait of his daughter; a painting of a bare flickering candle; a monochrome painting derived from a black and white newspaper clipping; a many-layered abstraction, hinting at a landscape just beyond; or simply through his veiled, questioning politics and refusal of obvious emotion, his work invites a profound engagement.
Perhaps it is for this reason that Richter, like Rothko, finds himself at the very top of the art market. Born in , in Dresden, into a staunchly Protestant household, Richter grew up beneath the twin tyrannies of Facism and Communism.
Consequently, dogma has been anathema in his work, but the relationship between the search for meaning in art and the search for the divine has always been central to his thinking. It is like the religious search for God. But the church is no longer adequate as a means of affording experience of the transcendental, and of making religion real — and so art has been transformed from a means into the sole provider of religion: which means religion itself.
But is it simply enough that what we find when we plunge might be no more than an aura, or a trace, or a scent of the sublime? That painting might indeed bind us back, but only to our own unknowable selves? For Richter, himself a professed atheist, the status of art and the experience of art continues to be both a puzzle and a driving force.
This is the Cathedral of the city where he lives, and where his three children and his third wife, Sabine Moritz, also a painter, were baptized. It is where he sometimes attends worship. And yet the window, far from some all-confirming assertion of Catholic teaching, is made up from 11, squares of glass in 72 colors, randomly organised by a computer to resemble pixels. In doing this it offers both the painter and the viewer a kind of salvation.
He is an outsider. The picture must be for him, as for anyone experiencing it later, a revelation, an unexpected and unprecedented resolution of an eternally familiar need. The miracle, in other words, is creative resolution. While our desire to look at a painting might be powered by the same eternal, spiritual need that drives us to the desert or the temple, the revelation we find there is of a different order. True, we continue to seek in art, among many other things, a correspondence with those oceanic feelings, a soothing of our hunger for transcendence, but the salvation it offers is without substance or destination.
They are spreading like branching plants across the globe. Should we rein cities in or embrace their biomorphic potential? Josh Berson. Thinkers and theories. Some see Plato as a pure rationalist, others as a fantastical mythmaker. His deft use of stories tells a more complex tale. Tae-Yeoun Keum. Stories and literature. Alison Garden. All the stories we have are flawed. Animals and humans. If humans were to disappear from the face of the Earth, what might dogs become?
And would they be better off without us? Jessica Pierce. Human evolution. It might be the core of what human brains evolved to do. Philip Ball. Tens of thousands of years older, in fact. So old that they are now thought to be the oldest known specimens of art in the world. If art is one of the things that make us human … then it seems we've been human for even longer than we've realized.
That it took us so long to make that realization, though, is a reminder of some other things that make us human: technological limitation, resource limitation, cultural myopia. It's long been assumed that the oldest human paintings were created in Europe, in the caves of France and Spain.
That's an assumption that has political implications as well as scientific ones. That wasn't because we lacked the tools to do the dating. While the Sulawesi paint itself can't be accurately dated, what we've long been able to do is to estimate the age of the rocky bumps — calcium carbonate, more commonly and more delightfully known as "cave popcorn"—that now cover it. Uranium-thorium dating takes advantage of the decay rate of uranium as it turns into thorium to estimate, to a high degree of accuracy, the age of the rock in question.
It allows scientists to determine an age—a minimum age—for the paintings that cover the cave walls.
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