Nina Kuo

1. -2. Contrapted Series Chinatown, 1983. Photography. Chromogenic print.

3. Contrapted Series Quilt, 1983. Photography. Chromogenic print.

Source: Brooklyn Museum

Still from

Europlex

2003

Video Essay, 20′

Ursula Biemann

Gordon Matta-Clark

Conical Intersect

Silver dye bleach print

Incision through two adjacent 17th-century buildings designated for demolition near the much-contested Centre Georges Pompidou, which was then under construction

1975, printed 1977

Margarita Azurdia

Por favor quitarse los zapatos (Please take off your shoes), 1970

Photographic documentation of interactive installation: 

Three black-and-white photographs

-

Paulo Nazareth

Para que No Encuentren Mis Huellas en el Desierto

2012, video performance, 5 min 45 sec

Frank Walter

“Untitled (Pink Sky, Green Field)” (n.d.)

oil on cardstock

5 1/4 x 7 1/4 inches

Freddy Tsimba, Ombres (Shadows), Tervuren, 2016. Royal Museum of Central Africa.

Francisco Vidal’s Utopia Machine, a 60 x 60 cm plywood box containing a toolkit for the mass production of screenprints, which also serves as a portable gallery (Source: Tiwani Contemporary)

Zeferina (2018) by Dalton Paula. Oil on canvas. Collection Museu de Arte de São Paulo.

shahzia sikander

1. “Eye-I-ing those Armorial Bearings,” 1989–97

2. “SpiNN (III),” 2003 Watercolor on tea-stained wasli paper

Minoru Niizuma

1. Leo Amino, Family, 1948, cast polyester resin, Smithsonian American Art Museum

2. Leo Amino, Refractional #21, polyester resin, 1967.

3. John Pai, Body-in-Question, welded steel, 2009.

4. John Pai, Atom’s Rib, welded steel, 2010.

Chila Kumari Singh Burman, Riot Series.

1. “Militant Woman,”  Photo-etching and aquatint on paper, 1981. 

2. “Cut - Foot - Pupil - Uprisings,” Photo-etching and screenprint on paper, 1981.

Tacita Dean

The Green Ray 

from The Sun Quartet

2001

16 mm film

2 min.

“When the sun sets into a clear, crisp horizon and when there is no land in front of you for a few hundred miles, and no distant moisture that could become at the final moment a backlit cloud that obscures the opportunity, you stand a very good chance of seeing the green ray. The last ray of the dying sun to refract and bend beneath the horizon is the green ray, which is just slower than the red or the yellow ray. Sailors see more than the rest of us, and they have come to signify the sun the harbinger of great change or fortune in their lives. For years I have sought out the green ray...but never have I seen it. And in the summer of last year, as I set off to a small, near inaccessible village off the West Coast of Madagascar, I had a quest to try and see if not film something that I could not imagine...As I took vigil evening after evening on that Morumbi beach looking out across the Mozambique channel and timing the total disappearance of the sun behind a single roll of film, I believed but was never sure I saw it...On the beach beside me were two others...infected by my enthusiasm for this elusive phenomenon...their video documentation was watched as evidence to prove that I hadn’t seen it either. But when my film fragment was later reproduced in England, there, unmistakably, defying solid representation on the single frame of celluloid, but existent in the fleeting movement of film frames, was the green ray, having proved itself too elusive for the pixellation of the digital world.”

Nam June Paik's prepared piano at his Exposition of Music – Electronic Television, Galerie Parnass, Wuppertal, March 11-20, 1963

George Shiras

Ellie Ga

Gyres 1-3

2019

installation version/ 2020 screening version Single channel video, sound, 39 minutes

Simryn Gill

Channel 14 (series)

Photograph, gelatin silver print on paper, 319 × 326 mm

Robert Smithson

Yucatan Mirror Displacements (1–9)

1969

Nine chromogenic prints from chromogenic slides (126 format)

24 x 24 inches (61 x 61 cm) each

“One must remember that writing on art replaces presence by absence by substituting the abstraction of language for the real thing. There was a friction between the mirrors and the tree, now there is a friction between language and memory. A memory of reflections becomes an absence of absences.”

Simryn Gill

My Own Private Angkor, #33

2007–2009

gelatin silver print, 15 1/2 x 14 3/4"

From the ninety-part suite “My Own Private Angkor,” 2007–2009.