Derek Fordjour,? Boy Band Breakup: The Fall of Ascension (2025).?Acrylic, charcoal, cardboard, oil pastel, and foil on newspaper mounted on canvas. 157.5 x 259.1 cm. Courtesy David Kordansky Gallery. Photo: Daniel Greer.
Isa Genzken
Still must the poet as of old, In barren attic bleak and cold, Starve, freeze, and fashion verses to Such things as flowers and song and you;
Still as of old his being give In Beauty’s name, while she may live, Beauty that may not die as long As there are flowers and you and song.
designerdeValence format 190 x 250 mm pages 240 p. ISBN 9782494983397
L’ouvrage est publié en coédition avec le Palais de Tokyo, en parallèle de l’exposition « ECHO DELAY REVERB » visible du 22 octobre 2025 au 15 février 2026.
Tout au long du XXe siècle, des penseur·ses, activistes et poète·sses dans la sphère francophone ont transgressé les genres et modifié les perspectives sur le monde contemporain. Néanmoins, au-delà et parfois avant leur reconnaissance en France, leurs idées ont été traduites aux États-Unis et ont servi à fabriquer des outils pour une vision critique des institutions, de l’art comme de la société, contestant des normes sociales, esthétiques et linguistiques, ouvrant à de nouvelles manières de voir et d’agir. Si le concept phare de French Theory a été défini dans les années 1990 pour évoquer la réception enthousiaste que les États-Unis ont réservé à des auteurs comme Roland Barthes, Michel Foucault, Gilles Deleuze ou Jacques Derrida, d’autres figures, telles que Suzanne et Aimé Césaire, Frantz Fanon, Maryse Condé, Édouard Glissant ou encore Monique Wittig, ont été déterminantes pour le champ de l’art comme pour les études postcoloniales, féministes et de genre. C’est l’histoire de cette circulation des idées, de leur résonance et appropriation par plusieurs générations d’artistes outre-Atlantique que déploie cet ouvrage qui prolonge l’exposition éponyme conçue par Naomi Beckwith au Palais de Tokyo.
Untitled (Drawing from Document080924; l’imaginaire de mon lieu), 2024. Solvent transfer, graphite, colored pencil, ink, gouache, and enamel paint on paper
David Hammons, Untitled, 2017. Acrylic on canvas, tarp. 64 x 46 inches (162.6 x 116.8 cm) (canvas size). Gallery.
Executed in 2017, Untitled is a recent example from this series, which began in 2007 and remains ongoing. In these works, painterly canvases are shrouded in mystery behind tarps, blankets, swaths of fabric, or other materials Hammons finds on the street. In Untitled, energetic strokes of blues, pinks, greens, browns, and oranges peer out from the corners of the canvas. Yet, the full composition is blocked from view by the blue-green plastic tarp tied precariously together with a yellow string directly in the center of the viewer’s field of vision.
“Those pieces were all about making sure that the black viewer had a reflection of himself in the work. White viewers have to look at someone else’s culture in those pieces and see very little of themselves in it.”
An English teacher took me aside and drew a rectangle on a piece of paper, placed a shooting arrow on each corner of the rectangle, plus one halfway along the horizontal top line, and a final arrow, in the same position, down below. “Six points,” this teacher said. “Going clockwise, first arrow is the introduction, last arrow is the conclusion. Got that?” I got that. He continued, “Second arrow is you basically developing whatever you said in the intro. Third arrow is you either developing the point further or playing devil’s advocate. Fourth arrow, you’re starting to see the finish line, so start winding down, start summarizing. Fifth arrow, you’re one step closer to finished, so repeat the earlier stuff but with variations. Sixth arrow, you’re on the home straight: you’ve reached the conclusion. Bob’s your uncle. That’s really all there is to it.” I had the sense I was being let into this overworked teacher’s inner sanctum, that he had drawn this little six-arrowed rectangle himself, upon his own exam papers, long ago. “Oh, and remember to put the title of the essay in that box. That’ll keep you focussed.”
On September 8, 2025, the WOPHA Artists in Residence, Kat Thompson, Nathyfa Michel, and Celia Irina González, visited Adler Guerrier’s studio at the Bakehouse Art Complex, engaging in dialogue around his practice and creative process. Photos by Gaby Ojeda. Courtesy of WOPHA.
since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool while Spring is in the world
my blood approves, and kisses are a better fate than wisdom lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry —the best gesture of my brain is less than your eyelids’ flutter which says
we are for each other: then laugh, leaning back in my arms for life’s not a paragraph