Word: painterly
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...bold new art. Paul Gauguin: Life and Work, by Michel Hoog (Rizzoli; 332 pages; $85), presents the Gauguin legend on a grand scale, from the artist's exotic Peruvian boyhood to his South Seas idyll. Hoog, chief curator at Musee de l'Orangerie in Paris, integrates the painter's biography with a broad representation of his work. The result forcefully demonstrates how a large and restless talent broke the bonds of Europe and found room to flourish halfway around the world...
...role of interpreters of their culture and made northern Manhattan a Paris for the "New Negro." Harlem Renaissance: Art of Black America (Abrams; 200 pages; $35) documents this flowering, from the Paris-trained sculptor Meta Vaux Warrick Fuller, who built her studio with her own hands, through Painter William H. Johnson, who renounced his academic style for a self-enforced primitivism, to James Van Der Zee, whose camera was witness to Harlem weddings, funerals and roaring good times...
...seems from Anselm Kiefer's retrospective, which has just opened at the Art Institute of Chicago, that at 42 this German artist is the best painter of his generation on either side of the Atlantic. Given most of the talent we have, this may not sound like much of a compliment. Certainly Kiefer's limitations are inescapable: his drawing lacks fluency and clarity and his color is monotonous, though the former seems to reinforce the grinding earnestness of his style and the latter contributes to its lugubrious intensity. What counts, is that he is one of the few visual artists...
Fans of Poet Robert W. Service know that despite the title, The Cremation of Sam McGee (Greenwillow; $13) is comic art. Some 80 years after the poem was composed, Painter Ted Harrison has complemented the work with bold and antic landscapes of the Yukon in the days of the gold rush. McGee, frozen over, demands, "I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains." His listener agrees, only to find a surprise when he opens the furnace door. Sam is inside, burbling, "Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time...
...mean much to Sondheim -- "I turn it over to my accountants and do what they tell me to" -- and, for a man who acknowledges he sometimes makes more than $1 million a year, he does not seem to believe he has much. After writing Sunday in the Park about Painter Georges Seurat, he went to a show of Seurat drawings, which sell in the low six figures. "I can't tell you how much I wanted one," he recalls, "but, of course, I couldn't afford...