And once you finish Wyatt Mason’s profile of Kehinde Wiley, here’s how you can buy an art masterpiece for the price of lunch, courtesy of The Jewish Museum.
At 36, he is already one of the art world’s brightest lights, painter of portraits that borrow heavily from the old to make something blazingly new. Where once there were only white kings and their queens, Kehinde Wiley inserts the “brown faces” long absent from Western art. Rappers, athletes, kids off the street. Wyatt Mason hangs with Wiley as he hits the beaches and markets of North Africa, handpicks his subjects, and transforms them, step by inspired step, into an ambitious new series of paintings. This is how a masterpiece is made.
This Weekend’s NYC To-Do List:
The Dumpster Project
[Premo] was standing in a friend’s garage-like studio in Gowanus, inside the huge rusty metal Dumpster that he bought in May — “the largest thing I have ever owned” — and that has become a kind of Dumpster of curiosities, filled with personal and obscure mementos. There are his daughter’s baby shoes, a tin of canned beef with a label in Arabic, the frame of a bicycle he rode across Europe and the Wiffle ball from a grueling game he played in Roswell, N.M. (He won, 1-0.)
There are 457 items in all, many of them displayed in frames arrayed along custom-built shelves that line the walls of the 22-foot-long Dumpster, which visitors can enter through a swinging door at one end. The installation will be on display at Water Street under the Manhattan Bridge as part of the Dumbo Arts Festival, beginning Friday.
Photograph for NYT by Michael Appleton
The Brooklyn artist Mac Premo is in the middle of an art project we love. He’s moving out of the studio he shared with two other artists and into a new (and much smaller) one. Mac collects stuff—among other things, he’s a collagist—and now he needs to throw out a ton of objects. Voila: The Dumpster Project. He’s going to make all of the discard objects into a collage in a 20-yard dumpster, and along the way, he’s going to photograph each one, tell its story, and post it all on this beautiful blog. Here is the story of that cassette tape up there:
My oldest friend is a Persian guy named Kacy. He and I lived together for a while around 2001. One day he was throwing stuff out and I saw this tape and felt compelled to keep it. I think the writing is Farsi, since Kacy is from Iran, but it might be Arabic. My favorite part is what it says on the reverse side: in san-serif gothic mixed case, as kind of an illustration of the poor English one would be expecting, ‘SUPER Recording.’