- Lori Waxman does not like the Art Institute of Chicago’s reinstalling of its contemporary art galleries. Actually, she hates it, blaming the “lifeless pairings, caged displays, insubstantial wall texts and what can only be considered total curatorial betrayal.” The latter, for instance, is best captured by the curatorial team’s insipid naming of the mini-galleries, which range from “The Bad Work by Good Artists Room” to “The Room of Amazing Production Values”. Cringe. Even worst is the prominence given to the newly-acquired collection of two patrons, which will remain on display for 25 years. Art world synergy! [Chicago Tribune]
- Vint Lawrence, the caricaturist best known for his Washington Monthly covers, has died. [Washington Monthly]
- The Panama Papers revelations keep coming. In this case, regarding an ongoing New York legal battle over a Modigliani alleged looted by the Nazis. “Seated Man With a Cain”, a 1918 portrait worth $25 million, originally belonged to Jewish art dealer Oscar Stettiner. His grandson’s attempt to recover the painting were hampered because no one knew who bought it when it went to auction at Christie’s in 1996. It’s now revealed that an offshore entity registered in Panama by billionaire art collector David Nahmad owns the work, and he’s “ready to return it”, after years of the grandson’s claims for years. [Wall Street Journal]
- Malick Sidibé, the Malian photographer responsible for capturing the country’s pop culture post-Independence, has also died. [The Guardian]
- More art world synergy: Norway’s National Museum is getting dibs on the 2000-piece collection of the country’s supermarket billionaire, Stein Erik Hagen. The Nordic and Northern European collection, is said to be worth $120 million and will conveniently enough fill the museum’s new Oslo building. [Art Market Monitor]
- On the confessional criticism zeitgeist, and how it’s been overrun by bad writers with not-so-interesting lives. [The Walrus]
- Why is Knausgaard so obsessed with fecal matters? If you ever thought there was a lot of shitting in Book Three of My Struggle, indeed, you are not alone. [The Paris Review]
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