The following guide to museum shows currently on view is compiled from Artforum’s three-times-yearly exhibition preview. Subscribe now to begin a year of Artforum—the world’s leading magazine of contemporary art. You’ll get all three big preview issues, featuring Artforum’s comprehensive advance roundups of the shows to see each season around the globe.
“Now’s the Time” derives its title from the inscription on one of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s boldest paintings, a large, roughly cut plywood disk, depicting a 45 of Charlie Parker’s eponymous bebop composition. This stark painting, which abstains from the expressionist fury associated with the artist, is nevertheless one of his most poignant works. Now is the time for a deeper analysis of Basquiat’s stridently political ouevre, and this thematically curated retrospective of eighty-plus works will address such subjects as racism, power, and social hypocrisy; sampling and scratching; and the TV cartoons the artist studied for figurative inspiration. Characterized by his distinctive, assured hand and by an innovative inner logic, Basquiat’s works reference Burroughs’s cut-up technique and No Wave’s cacophonous rhythms. Buchhart even posits that Basquiat’s remixing abilities prefigured the current Internet-driven perceptual model. The accompanying catalogue includes contributions by Franklin Sirmans, Olivier Berggruen, and Glenn O’Brien, among others.
In recent years, Ahmet Öğüt has auctioned off a self-portrait titled Punch This Painting, 2010; created a school for (and taught by) asylum seekers (the Silent University); legally exchanged the letters of his name with artist Nina Katchadourian; and twinned himself to his colleague Cevdet Erek. For this exhibition, Öğüt will revisit nearly a decade of his comical yet critical collaborations by constructing a television studio as a single, durational work. In it, he will stage a public debate among people he has worked withall from non-art backgroundsincluding a fireman, a lawyer, and a tailor. The catch? Öğüt will seat himself in the audience, but he won’t say a word. The debate will be filmed, edited, and played back during the run of the show.
Educated at the Royal College of Art, London, in the early 1990s, David Adjaye came of age with a generation of major British artists (and erstwhile YBAs). His ongoing exchange with contemporary art has been perhaps the most organic, dynamic, and fruitful of any architect working today. Many of his early projects, including a 2002 house for Sue Webster and Tim Noble, were for artist friends; Adjaye has also developed a series of collaborative projects with artists such as Doug Aitken and Olafur Eliasson that explore shared material sensibilities and common interests in perceptual effects. This survey of thirty-some projects documents a moment of transition, as the rapid expansion of Adjaye’s international practice forces him to confront more intrinsically architectural challenges, ranging from determining local civic identities in an increasingly globalized world to creating public spaces inclusive of the diverse spectrum of inhabitants who constitute the contemporary city. Travels to the Art Institute of Chicago, Sept. 19, 2015–Jan. 3, 2016.
Pulled toward electromagnets yet restrained by wires, the suspended metal cones and needles of Takis’s “Télésculptures” seem to quiver with absurd and frustrated desire.The Greek artist settled in France in 1954 and, with sculptures involving magnetism, light, and sound, became a leading figure in the kinetic art movement of the 1950s and ’60s. Now, twenty-two years after his last major retrospective, the Palais de Tokyo offers a welcome opportunity to reassess Takis’s work at a moment when contemporaries such as Lygia Clark and the German postwar group Zero are receiving high-profile surveys. With approximately sixty works dating from 1960 to the present, the galleries will surely hum with what William S. Burroughs described as Takis’s “cold blue mineral music of thinking metal.”
Born in Haiti but active in France for most of his career, Hervé Télémaque has for five decades made works that parse the pictorial vocabularies of consumer culture and that are inflected by transatlantic dialects of race and power. Stenciled letters and cartoonish figures may make a painting like My Darling Clementine, 1963, legibly Pop, but the artist’s ferocious dissections of forms and bodies, as well as his references to loaded stereotypes (a rubber mammy doll is installed next to this canvas), describe American consumerism in a language far more confrontational than that offered by most New York Pop of the early ’60s. The Pompidou’s exhibition will showcase this and more than seventy other works, including paintings, collages, drawings, assemblages, and sculptural objects by this bold and underappreciated artist. Travels to Le Musée Cantini de Marseilles, June 19–Sept. 20.
Over the past decade, high-profile exhibitions in major venues, including Tate Modern, London, and the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, Madrid, have kept Spanish artist Juan Muñoz on the radar. His oeuvre has aged unevenly: The figurative work now appears somewhat overwrought, while the ambiguous architectural pieces have retained their currency. Though Muñoz’s significance may lie in how he “returned the human figure to contemporary sculpture” (as suggested by HangarBicocca’s press materials), it is valuable to reconsider other facets of his practice. All the better, then, that this exhibitionthe artist’s first retrospective in Italypromises an in-depth examination of his multimedia oeuvre. The show will include some twenty works (that together feature more than 150 sculptures) dating from 1986 until Muñoz’s death in 2001, alongside several events that will foreground the artist’s more allusive, nonfigurative works in sound.