“Some things (sea foam, for instance) cannot be drawn at all, but only surfed.”
“Dedicated to the most sublime of subjects and impressions—(completing thus the perfect system of all truth, which we have shown to be formed by Turner’s works)—the power, majesty, and deathfulness of the open, deep, illimitable Sea.”
“Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet ... then, I account it high time to get to the sea as soon as I can.”
—Herman Melville, Moby Dick
Framed, each: 46 7/8 x 32 1/2 inches (119.1 x 82.6 cm)
Lepanto II: Edition of 11, 4 AP
Lepanto III: Edition of 12, 4 AP
Price upon request
“His paintings readily move from the elegiac to the confrontational, to the homoerotic, to the humorous, to a blend of all these states of mind and more: never melodramatic or morose, they are always direct…. Moore’s Venus flaunts a mermaid tail, her birth an eruption from a contaminated ocean…. [She] is the then well-known drag queen and gender illusionist Lady Bunny, the transvestite successor to Candy Darling and Holly Woodlawn of Warhol fame in the 1960s and 1970s. We find Lady Bunny engaged simultaneously in erotic play, with her come-hither gaze, and prophecy, as spokeswoman of ecological and medical despair.”
—Klaus Kertess, Toxic Beauty: The Art of Frank Moore
“In my point of view, the artistic beauty of a photographic print consists ... almost always in the sacrifice of certain details in such a manner as to produce an effect which sometimes attains to the sublime in art.”
—Gustave Le Grey
14 1/4 x 19 7/8 inches (36.2 x 50.5 cm)
“[My work] is based on ideas of science. It doesn’t just privilege the subjective. It uses subjectivity informed by history to create this hybrid language. I want it to be almost impossible to look at and impossible not to look at.”
“The marine horizon, an epitome of flatness, vastness, and distance, and therefore of basic orientation. In photograph after photograph, the horizon line precisely bisects the image, dividing two basic elements that lie outside our visual scope—water and air—into two optically equal but identical halves.”
—Thomas Kellein in Hiroshi Sugimoto: Time Exposed
“Medicinal sea, west-national sea, adored mother, I want in a fresh bouquet, without surrealist ways, to celebrate your one hundred faces, your surfaces, your facets, your dimples, your Rubescent bottoms, your diamond crests, your sapphire tops, your qualities, your delights, your profound charms.”
“Lacrimae rerum: there are tears at the heart of things.”
—From Virgil’s Aeneid, translation by Seamus Heaney. Chosen by Loïc Raguénès
In his characteristically poetic mode, Francis Alÿs can be seen silently gathering water into a bucket from the shore of the Black Sea in Trabzon, Turkey, and later pouring it into the Red Sea, at a beach in Aqaba, Jordan. A seemingly simple action, Watercolor acquires deeper symbolic significance considering the political and religious hostilities in the region, where freedom of movement and interaction with neighbors are sometimes restricted.
Pinning the poster against a white wall with black carpet visible below, Collier creates the illusion of a second horizon and opens the frame to include the space of the studio, which functions as a theatrical stage for the things the artist shoots. As the critic Dan Fox notes: “The types of images that Collier uses mostly share the same pop-cultural emptiness, just specific enough to intrigue—someone crying, a gorgeous sunset— but also generic enough to allow any individual to invest their own emotions in them.”
“At a Paris flea market in the rue Jacob of the 1970s, Marcel Broodthaers purchased a nineteenth-century French amateur painting of a fishing boat. Un tableau représentant le retour d’un bateau de pêche (A Painting Representing the Return of a Fishing Boat) formed the subject of several works by Broodthaers, including an artist’s book and a 16mm film edition titled Un voyage en mer du nord (A Voyage on the North Sea), in which different media are deployed to ‘analyze’ details of the banal maritime scene, which Broodthaers treated as a symbol of painting itself.
Broodthaers described the work—which is essentially a film about a book about a painting about a ship at sea—this way:
‘A book suggesting image as function. A book suggesting the text as function. More than a theory, the subject of this proposition reflects a simple image of the frustration that rules the social condition of today, for example this year. Perhaps I should add that le sujet brille [the subject shines].’”1
—Cathleen Chaffee, PhD, chief curator, Albright-Knox Art Gallery
1Marcel Broodthaers, “A Voyage on the North Sea, Press Release,” January 28, 1974.
The rush of undulating blues convey a sense of motion and depth across the surface of the painting. Referencing both the surge of energy used to make the works, as well as water’s ability to flow indiscriminately without regard to maps or borders, Murillo conjures a utopian and cautionary vision of contemporary geopolitics.
“A line of kids each carrying a boat made out of a shoe leaves Europe in the direction of Morocco, while a second line of kids with shoe-boats leaves Africa in the direction of Spain. The two lines will meet on the horizon.”
Seascape is a sculpture made using Dali stone sourced from Yunnan province in Southwest China. The artist was inspired by this regional marble, renowned for its natural variations in cloudy hues of black and white that suggest ethereal landscapes and, in this case, seascapes. The sculptural relief juts out from the wall at an irregular angle, warping the perspective of a traditional container or frame.
The present work is a component of In Search of the Miraculous (1975), an unfinished three-part performance, of which the second part was a three-month journey Bas Jan Ader attempted from Chatham, Massachusetts, to Falmouth, England, alone in a twelve-and-a-half-foot sailboat named Ocean Wave, the smallest boat to attempt to cross the Atlantic. Ten months later, remnants of Ader’s boat were found drifting in the ocean off the coast of Ireland.