Ear cleaners, knife grinders, street-side barbers—portraits of Indian tradesmen who maintain caste-prescribed professions.
Modern-day totem poles constructed from Americans’ favorite consumer materials—cars, beer cans, even cheeseburgers.
Irresistible watercolors of mouthy cowboys, automobile wrecks, boxing matches, rodeo clowns, and rock bands.
Good old Earth was nearly destroyed, almost extinguished, and threatened with slaughter every hour in cinemas this summer. And yet, here we are. Our film critics pinpoint the collapse of the apocalypse genre.
Square paintings that take the smallest things—a gas station’s roof, a swing set’s leg—and find unease in the most cheerful of circumstances.
A new book, Only in Burundi, provides a candid look into the post-conflict, everyday life of Burundians, from nuns to the president.
Much to the chagrin of his former 25-year-old self, a man in his forties—with no singing experience outside the shower—joins the village chorus. Terror, learning, and intense joy, all while making Brian Eno proud.
In the instance of slipping, there’s a moment of stillness just before you lose control. Selections from 10 years of a falling man’s self-portraits.
A former criminologist focuses on the lighter side of Los Angeles. Oil paintings of the city’s shops, streets, and people, with a particular focus on a single bright pink store.
Foliage bursting into living rooms. Houses floating in trees. Dynamic paintings of how natural and built spaces invade one another.
Portraits of a boy who was born without eyes, from one of the 21 “new and emerging photographers” selected this year by Lens Culture.
Experiencing a piece of art can be transporting, but the act of explaining it to someone else is an art form in itself. No wonder that docents, professors, even patrons get caught up in the act.