Emily Ferguson

Delacroix: Rebellious Romanticist and Conservative Classicist

Review: Devotion to Drawing: The Karen B. Cohen Collection of Eugène Delacroix at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Eugene Delacroix bucked whenever he was labeled a romanticist. "I am a pure classicist," he insisted. That could come as a surprise: He is often called the leader of the romanticist genre that spread through the first half of the 19th century. While both movements celebrate the past, romanticism is unbridled while classicism is reserved. The Metropolitan Museum of Art's exhibit Devotion to Drawing: The Karen B. Cohen Collection of Eugène Delacroix, a preview for a far larger retrospective opening Sept. 17, shows that Delacroix managed to embody both. His commitment to "pure" classicism led to a romanticist style, however unintentional.

To Look, to See, to Finally Feel

Review: 'Klimt and Schiele: Drawings' by Katie Hanson

artLet's face it, most books that come along with art exhibits usually are too academically strenuous and boring for laymen. A lot of people buy them for the pictures. But Katie Hanson's Klimt and Schiele Drawings, a companion guide to a just-concluded exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, breaks the mold. Hanson, the assistant curator of Paintings and Art of Europe at the MFA, writes with style, simplicity, and—even more rare—a goal for her readers. She wants you to learn how to admire and experience art the way Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele hoped we would.

Holding The Void

Review: 'Giacometti' at the Guggenheim Museum

Alberto Giacometti's first solo exhibition in America was unsuccessful. The art dealer in charge of the 1934 event, Julien Levy, admitted "almost nobody liked the Giacometti sculptures." They were priced at $150 to $250. Over 170 sculptures and paintings are now well-received by the crowd lining the Guggenheim Museum's signature curling walls for its summer retrospective, "Giacometti." It is the Guggenheim's first retrospective of the artist since 1955, which Giacometti never saw. He had just returned from seeing his works shown in London and was worried "the New York exhibition would have the same effect on me."

An Abstract Approach

Review: 'Helen Frankenthaler Prints: The Romance of a New Medium' at the Chicago Art Institute

I had taken about 15 steps into the Chicago Art Institute's spring exhibit, "Helen Frankenthaler Prints: The Romance of a New Medium," when I heard what I dreaded I would. "This looks like something a five-year-old made," an older man muttered to his wife.

Paul Cézanne: The Rebel With a Cause

Review: Cézanne Portraits at the National Gallery of Art

In his pseudo-intellectual film Manhattan, Woody Allen said he couldn't go through life without Paul Cézanne's famous pears and apples. Cézanne himself confidently knew he could make something special out of inanimate objects. "I, only I," he once bragged to Camille Pissarro, "know how to paint a real red." But the National Gallery's exhibition Cézanne Portraits, curated by John Elderfield, shows the curious layman the artist's struggle to take his unique, constructive method of painting and apply it to living, breathing subjects. It is the first exhibition concentrated on the artist's portraits since 1910. And it's about time.

Phantasmagoria and Where to Find It

Review: 'Gorey's Worlds' at the Wadsworth Atheneum

"The younger generation just doesn't get Edward Gorey," an older woman said. She was dressed in a knitted brown cardigan, leaning on the elbow of her husband. She turned her head and noticed me. "Oh! Except for you of course. You're here!" I was at the exhibit "Gorey's Worlds," a retrospective of the eminent author and illustrator accompanied by his collected art at the Wadsworth Atheneum in snowy, windy Hartford, Conn.

Influence Made Visible

Review: 'Ten Americans: After Paul Klee' at the Phillips Collection

On a television show I was watching the other night, a teacher described a puzzling conversation she had with her student. "He asked me if I saw the color blue the same way he did," she said.

The Face Behind The Masks

Review: 'Modigliani: Unmasked' at The Jewish Museum

Amedeo Modigliani's nickname was Modi, in reference to maudit, meaning "cursed." The artist believed he was destined to live a short life after a streak of bad health, and indeed, he died at 35 after a 19-year battle with tuberculosis. Up to that point he lived the life of a quintessential bohemian artist, broke, drenched in alcohol, and searching for meaning through creativity. In such a short career he managed to leave behind a heap of art, and this winter a small portion can be seen at the Jewish Museum in New York in its latest exhibit on the artist, "Modigliani: Unmasked." It is a modest show but succeeds in showing how a Sephardic Jew from Italy grappled with his complex identity in the years leading up to the Holocaust.

Relevance and Reverence

Review: 'Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer' at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

"Let it be inscribed on the portals of the world's museums," Robert Hughes wrote. "What you will see in here is not meant to be a social experience. Shut up and use your eyes." This is precisely what the Metropolitan Museum of Art's latest colossal achievement, "Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer," demands. The exhibit, open until February 12, provides a behind-the-scenes look into the life of Michelangelo Buonarroti through his most intimate works—the incomplete, the first drafts, the drawings he made for his lovers—rendered in the most delicate mediums of chalk, ink, and graphite on paper. The show has been called an unprecedented, once-in-a-lifetime experience. And it is.

The Wish to Be All Things Through Art

Review: 'Edvard Munch: Color in Context' at the National Gallery

Girl's Head Against the Shore by Edvard Munch, 1899Through no fault of his own, Edvard Munch could be considered an agent of kitsch. He feared this would be the case, writing in his undated diaries that "kitsch" was something "I have worked against all my life." But after his death, re-creations and imitations of his paintings and prints—mostly of the "Scream"—weakened his paradoxical purpose: to simultaneously provide the viewer with an escape from and confrontation of anxiety. Although the "Scream" has been battered by commercialism, Munch's angst pulsates in each of the 21 pieces held in the National Gallery's latest exhibit on the prolific printmaker.