Bye Bye 2023! My Top 10 Art Works This Year
This first year of TGZAC was filled with more art than ever. Let's count down to the new year with my 10 favorite works of art I saw.
10. Venetian Waves
I came across this small exhibition on Giudecca (Venice) as I came back from my first encounter with Daniel Spivakov (Millenial, Ukrainian) right outside his studio. I was walking back to the Vaporetto station when I stopped in my tracks, distracted by small photographs of waves. The light drew flowy outlines in the blue, pink, grey, and peach water turning into silky fabric.
I started talking to the artist, Lorenza Striuli (Baby Boomer, Italian). She showed me more pictures she had taken: A boy and a girl talking to each other by a church, black and white. They laugh, embracing each other, close as if sharing a secret. Lorenza didn’t know whether they were a romantic couple or dear friends. She beautifully captured their intimacy from a distance.
9. Man Ray: Anatomies (1929)
I feel like I often don’t really get photography. At MoMA, I saw this photograph by Man Ray (1890-1976, American). In one shot, he turns a pale twisted neck into a beautifully diffusing triangular shape. It’s not geometric, but neither is it still a body. So sensual. God, I really need to get over that Dracula theater play…
8. Rebekka Benzenberg: The party is over (2023)
While working at ART DÜSSELDORF back in April, I’ve been walking past this piece by Rebekka (Millenial, German) at Anton Janizewski’s booth multiple times a day like a high school kid too shy to ask out their crush: A pile of down jackets as you would find them on a bed at a house party is pressed down by turquoise acrylic glass. The artist scratched out The party is over and signed with a sharpie. A passive-aggressive nod to everybody to get the fuck out? Love it.
7. Amadeo Modigliani: Seated Nude (1917)
I always liked the way Amadeo (1884-1920, Italian) painted elegant, elongated features. But in a nonchalant way. Then I saw this work at KMSKA Antwerp. I heard that Amadeo only filled in the eyes when he felt like he truly knew the sitter. Otherwise, they are just blank almond shapes. This woman is not sexualized. She’s not to me. She looks like a real human being. Vulnerable, kind, crouching with her exposed body and a curious sideways glance. I realized I whispered bye when I finally left her.
6. Dmitry Vrubel: My God, Help Me to Survive This Deadly Love (1990)
A bit pretentious to not call it proper art, innit? During Berlin Art Week this September, I couldn’t wait to see the Berlin Wall remains. When I finally stood in front of the country’s most famous kiss, lightning hit my body. I gasped. Fuck the Mona Lisa, this is my Roman Empire. Dmitry (Baby Boomer, Russian) painted the iconic photograph of Leonid Brezhnev and Erich Honecker embracing in a Bruderkuss (and they were roommates…!). Gustav Klimt’s (1862-1918, Austrian) The Kiss (1907-08) is just a midnight snack compared to this masterpiece of a four-course meal.
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5. Agnieszka Polska: The Thousand-Year Plan (2021)
I reviewed this show during Berlin Art Week and it has kept its power over me. This film split into two opposite screens follows four protagonists in post-WWII Poland. Two engineers walking through the vastness of nature to count existing and establish new electricity lines and two rebels hiding in the woods relishing the wartime heroism of the past. Their separate conversations intertwine and overlap across screens. Their story unfolds around the possibilities and limitations of human control. Will electricity and power bring freedom or destruction? The film also intertwines the past and the future with the environmental anxiety and uncertainty that is taking hold right now. Electricity materializes as delicate flames and as lightning that slowly takes over their faces and finally pulls into a new ungraspable dimension. That one line kept repeating itself in my head: Uncertainty is hope. Is it? Kind of. Sometimes. The entrancing soundtrack of Polish chant gave me goosebumps as I anxiously kept thinking about these words.
4. Gustav Klimt: Adele Bloch Bauer I (1907)
I’ve wanted to see this piece in the flesh forever. And when I finally did in New York this November, I wasn’t prepared for it. I knew its story. I knew who Adele Bloch Bauer was. And it felt like finally meeting a person a friend’s been always talking dearly about. I smiled at her. I was lost in the beautiful golden ornament of her dress, discovering her initials all over the canvas. Was I aware of the no-picture policy? Absolutely! My policy? Pics or it didn’t happen. In case you don’t know my beef with Neue Galerie, you can read all about it in my NYC museum review.
3. Dorothy Iannone: Roulette Table, Love Is My Inspiration (1972-2020)
I will tell you everything about this exhibition in the first week of 2024 because this was the best show I saw this year. I need to share this work by Dorothy (1933-2022, American) right now as it keeps me up at night. Dorothy made a gambling table and wrote two texts. In the first one, Gambling on Love, she recounts preparing for an astronomy exam in college. Instead of learning all the planets by heart, she chose Venus. In Choosing a Man, she allegorically describes the way people choose love comparing it to betting on a horse at a race. And no matter your choice, you might win in this crazy game of love.
2. Horst P. Horst: Self-portrait with mannequin wearing evening costume design by him (1933)
Let me introduce you to my art crush of the year. In the words of white-boy-of-the-month keeper Brittany Broski, I need him biblically. Horst (1906-1999, American) was a German-born fashion photographer who fled to the US after the Nazis’ takeover. He worked with prestigious fashion magazines like Vogue, creating beautiful shots playing with silhouettes and dramatic poses. I saw this self-portrait in the CHRONORAMA exhibition at Palazzo Grassi. Horst knew damn well he has a good side profile.
1. Ania Hobson: You Bring Me Peace (2023)
I think about this painting every single day. It haunts me. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know who or what it represents. When I first saw it, my jaw dropped, I stopped breathing and I felt my heart skip a beat. It made me both anxious and calm. I have put my feelings into words in my Berlin art shows October review, I can’t say anything more than that. You really do bring me peace.
I sincerely want to thank you. It’s been on my mind to write about art for years. But I was scared. I wondered if anybody would even care. This summer in Venice, a friend gave me a push to start this substack. Over the last six months, we have grown, we had fun, and we laughed about art together. I keep doing this because of you people. Your feedback and your kind words keep me going. I write for you. And for myself too.
Wow, that was such a drunk “I love you guys” speech, let’s get back to regular programming, shall we?
See you in 2024!!!
Jennifer
The Gen Z Art Critic
New York and Venice, well represented!