The Past, Present, and Future (??) of Website Art

What does it mean to make art on the internet? It's not a new question, but it's far from a settled question. From very early on in the history of the World Wide Web, artists leapt in to start experimenting, and very shortly after that, the organization Rhizome was born. Dedicated to digital art, it quickly became one of the most important advocates and keepers of its history. Last week, Rhizome celebrated its 30th birthday with a gala that brought together the luminaries of online art, both present and historical, and an art show titled "WEBSITES WEBSITES WEBSITES!" showing web-based work by Lorna Mills, Rafaël Rozendaal, Maya Man, Kim Asendorf, Luke Shannon, and many other names you either know or should know. This was the perfect time to talk to Michael Connor, longtime co-director of Rhizome. Ben Davis speaks with him to get the history of art online in all its chaos, and to asks him where he thinks it might be going next.

For many, many reasons, it has been several months since we have done one of our Art Angle chat-casts, where we assemble writers to talk about a few different news stories on the site. But it's September, and we're finally back at it. Today we'll be talking about three topics: First, here in New York, the fall art season kicked off with literally hundreds of gallery openings, followed by a bunch of fairs this week. The fall openings are always an event. This year, they're even more closely scrutinized, given how uncertain business has felt behind the scenes. We'll talk about highlights and observations from the galleries. Second, on the other side of the country, in Los Angeles, the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art has finally debuted. The brainchild of Star Wars maestro George Lucas and his wife Mellody Hobson, the long-in-the-works, billion-dollar institution has its own quirky vision of art. We'll talk about what that is and whether it works. And finally, we'll talk about developments in the truly epic divorce of Libbie and David Mugrabi, which touches on hundreds of millions, if not billions, of dollars of art. I don't know if we'll even get to all the details, but the story involves a very important Jean-Michel Basquiat painting, allegations of someone hiring a Russian hitman, and a dog named Botox.

This is a re-air of my interview with the artist Arthur Jafa. It came out earlier in the year, but with his much-anticipated career retrospective, Arthur Jafa, I Am Tony, now about to open at the New Museum in New York. It's very much worth another listen. Jafa is probably the most revered artist of the last decade. Born in 1960, in Tupelo, Mississippi, he came up through the world of cinema. But Jafa also found his way into the art world with his difficult video work and strange objects. In art, his reputation went vertical in 2016 with the video, Love Is the Message, the Message Is Death. It is a collage of found footage from social media that included police violence against Black people and also moments of viral celebration and joy. It was both experimental and accessible, and drew huge crowds when it was first shown at Gavin Brown’s Enterprise in New York. A follow-up film, called The White Album, won the Golden Lion for Best Artist as part of the main show of the Venice Biennale back in 2019. And this month, Jafa is back in Venice, this time in a two-person show called “Helter Skelter,” curated by Nancy Spector, pairing him with the famous artist Richard Prince, also known for using found and appropriated imagery to disorienting effect. That show opened alongside the Venice Biennale at the Prada Foundation, and was one of the few things during the opening weekend that everyone could agree was a must-see event. Jafa has also curated a show currently on view at the Museum of Modern Art, called “Less Is Morbid,” a deliberately packed display of his favorite art. He is also one of the winners of this year’s Art Basel Award, to be honored at that fair. In the middle of all this intense activity, Jafa sat down with Ben Davis to discuss his art, his view of art history, and what comes next.

The humble wall label at an art exhibition has a funny status. It feels, on the one hand, like a side note or an afterthought. On the other, it is a first point of contact and literal guide for a visitor looking to know more. There is an entire undersung discipline, Visitor Studies, which has put a lot of time into thinking about how museums communicate. And yet, even so, some of the most prestigious exhibitions in the world are crawling with texts that I can barely understand. As a matter of fact, I’ve griped so much about bad text at art biennials and shows that I try not to do it anymore, just to avoid repeating myself. But recently, I decided I would get it out of my system for good and be constructive and write an essay about where I think these texts go wrong and what I think works. Katherine Whitney thinks about museum texts professionally, she has worked with a number of museums and with Beverly Serrell on the 2024 edition of Serrell’s Exhibit Labels: An Interpretive Approach, a standard resource on this subject. So, let’s talk about texts. This is a nerdy topic, maybe, but it’s also an essential topic, one that helps clear your mind about what you want from a museum in the first place. Unlike a lot of problems facing art right now, the problem of bad texts is one that can be fixed.

The ancient Romans called the Mediterranean mare nostrum, "our sea." But before the Romans rose to power, the Etruscans had extensive trade networks in the area and controlled much of the Italian peninsula, the future heart of the Roman Empire. Between around 900 B.C.E. and the first century B.C.E., the Etruscans lived in city-states, developing beguiling artworks and making technological advances that are the subject of an astonishing show at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. "The Etruscans: From the Heart of Ancient Italy," which runs through September 20, tells the story of people who were deeply religious, alive to life's great pleasures, and in dialogue with societies in distant lands. There are remarkable loans from more than two dozen institutions, including treasures that have never before been allowed to travel. Renée Dreyfus, the curator in charge of ancient art at the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, organized this tour de force and joined Andrew Russeth on The Art Angle to discuss it.

Artists and creatives have been fascinated with tarot for over 600 years. Recently, that fascination has resurfaced in a big way, showing up everywhere from museum walls to fashion runways. That's not surprising. As a sweeping universal narrative language small enough to fit in your pocket, tarot's archetypal imagery is built for rediscovery and reinterpretation. Once a medieval royal court game, tarot drifted into the realms of the occult, especially in the 18th and 19th centuries. In the 21st, it's entered the pop culture zeitgeist—accessible, affordable, and able to offer insight into the present, past, and future, but most importantly, yourself. Artists have long mined the cards for spiritual and creative inspiration, contributing to their enduring relevance. Pamela Colman Smith designed the deck that's still the industry standard, back in 1909, though her name was buried for decades under the man who commissioned it. Leonora Carrington painted a hauntingly surreal Major Arcana in 1955. Salvador Dalí spent decades on his own gilded, cinematic deck, finishing it in the 1970s. Now, dozens of artists and designers are dabbling with imagery that fuses art history, numerology, astrology, and psychology with color, gesture, and form. That's the real magic of tarot: The plurality of meaning and the staying power of images. A major show at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York explores the history of and our enduring fascination with the cards. Annikka Olsen, Artnet's Galleries Editor, recently covered the exhibition and she joins Margaret Carrigan, Artnet's News Editor, on this episdoe to talk tarot, in all its many guises.

Julio Torres and Martine Gutierrez share a knack for building worlds and characters that operate on their own wonderful, absurdist logic. Throw them together, add some sea water, and you get Marina, their new performance commissioned by the Whitney Biennial. Marina begins with a construction worker tossing a smartphone into the ocean and ends with a sea wench possibly discovering the internet. It’s like the Little Mermaid, but filtered through the flights of imagination that Torres and Gutierrez have become known for. Torres first came to prominence as a writer for Saturday Night Live, but has since carved out one of the most distinctive creative paths around. He created the TV shows Los Espookys and Fantasmas, and made his feature debut with Problemista, starring Tilda Swinton. His comedy specials, My Favorite Shapes and Color Theories, are less stand-up than windows into the idiosyncratic way he sees the world. Gutierrez, meanwhile, has spent her career transforming identity into an expansive artistic practice. In her series like ANTI-ICON and Supremacy, she uses performance, photography, and self-portraiture to inhabit a range of personas—from Aphrodite to Lady Godiva. It is work that challenges conventional ideas of femininity while celebrating reinvention and fluidity. Marina won’t be the first time that Torres and Gutierrez are collaborating. Gutierrez has appeared in both Los Espookys and Fantasmas, where she played the mysterious Vanesja. The pair also share a rapport that is immediate, playful, and unpredictable, as you’ll hear in our conversation. Here they are, talking about Marina, first meetings, fictional personas, and for reasons that will soon become clear, the first half of Speed.

We’re in the hot dog days of August, awaiting the new art season to kick off in September. In the meantime, I thought we might take the temperature of art in New York, looking at two big museum shows that opened earlier ruin the year, and that seek to highlight new voices from the city. So, we will be talking about “Greater New York,” the important show at MoMA PS1 in Queens that once every five years. This time out it has over 53 artists and collectives from the Big Apple, stretched across several floors of the museum, and is certainly worth checking out before it closes its several months run. It’s gotten generally very positive reviews. We’ll see what we think. And the other show we’re going to be talking about is the “Seventh AIM Biennial” at the Bronx Museum of the Arts. It’s called “Forms of Connection” and features art by the last two classes of the museum’s Artist in the Marketplace program. That’s a year-long career accelerator and professional development seminar that takes on 14 artists based in New York each year, so its a good chance to see what styles and themes emerging artists are looking to now to be taken seriously. There’s been quite a lot of angst about art in New York, and this is our chance to see how healthy it looks. And to see if there exciting new figures to watch emerging from the mix. Ben Davis speaks with Danielle Jackson, the critic, writer, researcher, teacher, and returning Art Angle guest, who is working on an article about the AIM Biennial for Artnet News.

At the end of last year, Annie Armstrong stepped down as Artnet's gossip columnist after filing 198 Wet Paint columns over the span of more than four years. Gabi Vidal-Irizarry has picked up the mantle. Annie departed the art world for the food world to write for Caper Media, an enterprising new startup that aims, in its words, "to tell the inside story of the restaurant business in New York." While Annie is on a new beat, she's found that the art and restaurant worlds are closely intertwined in New York, and her must-read weekly column regularly charts the goings-on of promising artists, dealers, and collectors in our city's dining establishments. Especially remarkable art food crossovers have just arrived. Sotheby's, the New Museum, and Amant out in Brooklyn all have high-profile and highly ambitious new restaurants in Marcel, Oberon, and Zoli Restaurant respectively. Annie's been to all three, and so it was a thrill to have her back on the Art Angle to discuss those spots, as well as where art people like to eat, and the places that she recommends gallery goers visit in different neighborhoods.

The art market is a famously opaque place, a world of handshake agreements and big-dollar private deals. How does it actually operate, and how has it changed over the centuries? In a richly researched new book titled Trading Beauty: Art Market Histories from the Altar to the Gallery, Valentina Castellani provides surprising answers, drawing on a long and storied career in the industry. She's worked at Sotheby's and Gagosian, where she helped organize landmark exhibitions devoted to Pablo Picasso and Piero Manzoni. Now, she's an adjunct professor at New York University's Steinhardt School, where she teaches a class about the art market. Castellani's book, which is published by Gagosian, reveals how popes, aristocrats, plucky entrepreneurs, and brave true believers developed new ways of commissioning, funding, and selling art, from medieval frescoes to avant-garde conceptual pieces. It's a wild ride, and it spans some 1,500 years. She joined Andrew Russeth on The Art Angle to delve into her findings. During our conversation, she uncorked stories about maverick dealers and patrons, the undersung role of women in this narrative, and the ways that artists have cannily enticed the market across time. Perhaps most importantly, she makes the case that the art market's relevance extends far beyond money.