Introduction

What is The New Yorker? I know it’s a great magazine and that it’s a tremendous source of pleasure in my life. But what exactly is it? This blog’s premise is that The New Yorker is a work of art, as worthy of comment and analysis as, say, Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Each week I review one or more aspects of the magazine’s latest issue. I suppose it’s possible to describe and analyze an entire issue, but I prefer to keep my reviews brief, and so I usually focus on just one or two pieces, to explore in each the signature style of its author. A piece by Nick Paumgarten is not like a piece by Jill Lepore, and neither is like a piece by Ian Frazier. One could not mistake Collins for Seabrook, or Bilger for Goldfield, or Mogelson for Kolbert. Each has found a style, and it is that style that I respond to as I read, and want to understand and describe.

Thursday, December 15, 2022

December 5, 2022 Issue

I see in this week’s issue there’s a show of Betty Woodman ceramic sculptures at the David Kordansky Gallery in Manhattan: see Johanna Fateman, “Art: Betty Woodman.” Woodman is one of my favorite artists. Her vases are among the glories of modern art. I first read about her in a piece by Peter Schjeldahl, called “Decoration Myths” (The New Yorker, May 15, 2006), a review of Woodman’s retrospective at the Metropolitan Museum. He said of her, “At the age of seventy-six, she is beyond original, all the way to sui generis.” He described the colour of one of her works, a vase titled “Portugal,” as "an indigo like an organ chord, at once rumbling and clarion. It’s only décor, but what décor!” The Kordansky exhibition features an abundance of Woodman’s works. You can see many of them at davidkordanskygallery.com.

Betty Woodman, Seashore (1998)


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