this week in art

SOPHIE CALLE: THE ADDRESS BOOK

Sophie Calle’s ADDRESS BOOK is finally available in English

192 Books
192 Tenth Ave. at 21st St.
Wednesday, November 7, free with RSVP, 7:00
212-255-4022
www.192books.com
www.sigliopress.com

Nearly thirty years ago, French conceptual multimedia artist Sophie Calle found an address book in the street and decided to create a portrait of the owner (as well as herself) by contacting all of the people listed inside. “I will get to know this man through his friends and acquaintances. I will try to discover who he is without ever meeting him,” Calle wrote at the time. She documented the results, an investigation into truth, honesty, fiction, character, and the search for information itself, in a series of columns for the daily paper Libération that enraged the owner of the address book, Pierre D., who demanded she never show the work again during his lifetime. Alas, he is no longer with us, so now we have the first-ever English-language publication of The Address Book (Siglio, September 2012, $29.95), designed as an actual lightweight address book, complete with Calle’s notes and photographs. Calle will be at 192 Books in Chelsea on November 7 at 7:00, signing copies of the new book. Space is limited, so advance reservations are required by calling 212-255-4022.

FIRST SATURDAYS — JEAN-MICHEL OTHONIEL: MY WAY

Jean-Michel Othoniel, “The Secret Happy End,” Murano glass, Saint Just’s mirror glass, metal, vintage carriage, 2008 (© Jean-Michel Othoniel)

Brooklyn Museum
200 Eastern Parkway at Washington St.
Saturday, November 3, free, 5:00 – 9:00 (some events require free tickets distributed in advance at the Visitor Center)
212-864-5400
www.brooklynmuseum.org

The Brooklyn Museum is hosting a somewhat abbreviated version of its monthly free First Saturdays program tonight because of the hurricane, but it’s still packed with cool events built around the exhibition “Jean-Michel Othoniel: My Way,” a career survey of the idiosyncratic French artist that continues through December 2. There won’t be a dance party, but there will be live music by Slowdance, Jarana Beat, and Savoir Adore, a performance of The Blue Belt by Andrew Benincasa and Shadow Organ Theater, the experimental dance Ghost Lines by Cori Olinghouse, an origami demonstration, a movement workshop with Hip-Hop Dance Conservatory, a sensory gallery tour incorporating touch, smell, sight, and sound, an artist talk with members of Urban Glass, a glass-painting workshop, a book-club talk with Ruth B. Bottigheimer (Fairy Tales: A New History), and the psychedelic light projection “Cosmic Morning” by Don Miller. Also on view at the museum now are “Mickalene Thomas: Origin of the Universe,” “Materializing ‘Six Years’: Lucy R. Lippard and the Emergence of Conceptual Art,” and “Aesthetic Ambitions: Edward Lycett and Brooklyn’s Faience Manufacturing Company” in addition to long-term installations and the permanent collection.

JOHN CAGE: THE SIGHT OF SILENCE

John Cage, “New River Watercolor, Series I (#3), watercolor on parchment paper, 1988 (courtesy National Academy Museum)

National Academy Museum
1083 Fifth Ave. at 89th St.
Wednesday – Sunday through January 13, $15, 11:00 am – 6:00 pm
212-369-4880
www.nationalacademy.org

The National Academy continues its transformation with the cleverly curated multimedia exhibition “John Cage: The Sight of Silence,” held in conjunction with the hundredth anniversary of the birth of the seminal avant-garde artist. A controversial minimalist composer, music theoretician, Zen practitioner, I Ching follower, and longtime partner of Merce Cunningham, Cage was also a watercolorist, and the National Academy show features more than four dozen of his paintings, drawings, and etchings made primarily during his residency at the Mountain Lake Workshop in Virginia in the 1980s and early ’90s. A short documentary reveals Cage’s fascinating process using local stones, feathers, and the same ideas of chance and complex numbering systems he employed in creating his musical compositions, resulting in gentle, spiritual works with colorful circles on paper sometimes prepared with smoke. A vitrine contains some of the elements Cage used for the pieces, which were hung by the National Academy on the walls of two galleries by chance as well, through a series of four rolls of the dice. The show also includes Cage’s 1969 Plexiglas homage to Duchamp, “Not Wanting to Say Anything About Marcel”; one of his unique scores; and a 1976 self-portrait. “The Sight of Silence” is supplemented by several video presentations, highlighted by a 1960 appearance Cage made on the TV game show I’ve Got a Secret, performing “Water Walk,” a composition for water pitcher, iron pipe, bathtub, goose call, bottle of wine, electric mixer, whistle, sprinkling can, ice cubes, two cymbals, mechanical fish, quail call, rubber duck, tape recorder, vase of roses, seltzer siphon, five radios, bathtub, and grand piano. In addition, another monitor plays the John Cage section of Peter Greenaway’s 1983 documentary Four American Composers, which captures unusual live performances, interviews, and Cage’s interstitial “Indeterminacy Stories.” It all makes for a charming show that is likely to surprise Cage devotees as well as those unfamiliar with his oeuvre.

John Cage performs “Water Walk” on I’VE GOT A SECRET

“There is no such thing as an empty space or an empty time,” Cage once explained. “There is always something to see, something to hear. In fact, try as we may to make a silence, we cannot.” The National Academy is making sure there is always something to see and hear with “Chance Encounters,” a series of public programs ranging from book readings and panel discussions to live dance and concerts. Among the special events: On October 28 at 3:00, William Anastasi, who played chess with Cage every day for nearly fifteen years, will read from The Cage Dialogues: A Memoir; on November 10, Joan Retallack, who wrote Musicage: Cage Muses on Words Art Music with Cage, will present “Conversation with Cage”; on December 1, exhibition cocurator Ray Kass will direct a performance of Cage’s “STEPS” by Stephen Addis; and on January 5, Du Yun will perform “Water Walk.”

TWI-NY TALK: JOHN BALDESSARI

John Baldessari is once again screwing with people’s minds in latest solo show at Marian Goodman (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

JOHN BALDESSARI: DOUBLE PLAY
Marian Goodman Gallery
24 West 57th St. between Fifth & Sixth Aves.
Tuesday – Saturday through November 21, free, 10:00 am – 6:00 pm
212-977-7160
www.mariangoodman.com

As John Baldessari and I sat down in the conference room at Marian Goodman Gallery to discuss his latest solo show there, “Double Play,” I realized that the cord on my old-fashioned tape recorder couldn’t reach the nearest outlet. Sensing the dilemma, the six-foot-seven, eighty-one-year-old artistic genius said, “Too bad you can’t use that,” and pointed behind me. When I turned around, I saw his 1997 Goya Series canvas “It Serves You Right,” a black-and-white image of a plug beneath an empty four-pronged outlet. Fortunately, the good people at the gallery were kind enough to find a long, orange extension cord so we could get down to business.

“I’ve got to say, I don’t like being labeled a California artist, or a Los Angeles artist, or a Conceptual artist,” Baldessari later pointed out. “I just like it to be artist.” For more than fifty years, Baldessari has been creating provocative paintings, video, and sculpture that combine text and language with art-historical and pop-culture imagery. He’s placed colorful circles over subjects’ faces and filmed himself posing in front of a camera and declaring over and over again, “I am making art.” He’s experienced a kind of renaissance lately, with a well-received traveling retrospective, “Pure Beauty,” that came to the Met in the fall of 2010, and two recent promotional videos that have gone viral, “A Brief History of John Baldessari,” a wildly funny biography narrated by musician Tom Waits, and a Pacific Standard Time short in which Baldessari’s giant head chases actor Jason Schwartzman through the streets of L.A.

For “Double Play,” Baldessari made inkjet prints of enlarged sections of works by such artists as Paul Gauguin, Honoré Daumier, Otto Dix, and Édouard Manet, painted over them, then named them after song titles by Waits, Kander and Ebb, Portastic, Johnny Mercer, and others. “Eggs and Sausage” reimagines Gustave Courbet’s “Portrait of Paul Ansout,” combining it with block type of the title of a 1975 song by Waits. For “Animal Crackers in My Soup,” Baldessari focuses on two of the women in Félix Valloton’s “Three Women and a Young Girl Frolicking in the Water,” making it look like they’re kissing, and adding the title of the song made famous by Shirley Temple.

A careful thinker who punctuates many of his statements with an infectious laugh, Baldessari is a gentle, unassuming man whose striking white hair and beard and mustache stand out in stark contrast to his black clothing. He spoke honestly and openly about art and life, encouraging more questions even as our time together was coming to a close.

twi-ny: You’ve spent part of the last few years looking back at your long career, with the “Pure Beauty” retrospective and a continuing series of Catalogue Raisonné volumes. Do you think that has directly influenced your current work?

John Baldessari: Well, I think it’s always valuable to look at the arc of your career, of what you’ve done and what you might do, and retrospectives can provide that. So do Catalogue Raisonnés. It all helps, to see where you’ve been and where you might go.

John Baldessari, “Double Play: Moon River,” varnished inkjet print on canvas with acrylic and oil paint, 2012 (photo courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery)

twi-ny: In putting together the two new series, you compare yourself to Dr. Frankenstein. How do you go about choosing the different elements?

John Baldessari: The underlying idea is that I always think of language and imagery as of equal value. So very often in my work I have both — sometimes not, but right now I do — but I consider the song title as valuable as the image. What I’m trying to do is not make it easy for people to make the connection between the image and the language, make it a little difficult. Which is impossible, because people want to do that, they want to hook up things together. A few of them, I just look the other direction, like the dog and “Feelings” — that’s like a Hallmark card. But on the other ones, I think, “Moon River,” I mean, come on. But a lot of them, I found out, I went through the list of song titles trying to hit ones that wouldn’t provide a ready connection. And as a result, I have five or more that are Tom Waits; he’s really good at that.

twi-ny: In “Feelings,” for example, you have a dog, but “Walking the Dog” isn’t with the picture of a dog, which confuses people.

John Baldessari: Exactly.

twi-ny: Are the selections random?

John Baldessari: They’re not random at all. They’re very well thought out. I mean, they’re very well thought out in trying to avoid a connection.

twi-ny: And people can make their own connections.

John Baldessari: Of course they will. But then it’s going to be a weird connection.

twi-ny: When I looked at “Animal Crackers in My Soup,” I’m thinking Shirley Temple, and you’ve got the image of two women kissing.

John Baldessari: And you’re gonna start thinking. I kind of played this “fucking with your mind” game.

twi-ny: In regards to Tom Waits, another National City guy, did you know him or his music before the LACMA video or “Double Play”?

John Baldessari: I’ll tell you how the connection happened. I was teaching in a community college, and I had heard that he had attended that after I had left. And then I mentioned it to my sister, and she said, “Oh yeah, he was a gardener for one of my girlfriends,” and I thought, Wow, that’s amazing. And then I was checking around some more, and it turned out he worked in a pizza restaurant that was located in a building that was owned by my father in National City before he began to get really well known.

Somehow I got his phone number — he was living in L.A. at the time — and I called him. I said, “Is this true?” and he started laughing and said, “Yeah, it’s all true.” You know, I’ve yet to meet him. But then, two years back, in Vanity Fair they had that thing in the back they called the Proust Questionnaire, and they had him, and one of the questions was “What was one of the most enjoyable times in your life?” and he said working in the pizza restaurant in National City, California. Isn’t that amazing?

We talk on the phone. He did send me a note, did a drawing about that movie, and he said, “These guys are making us famous.” And I said, “Tom, you’re already famous.”

twi-ny: You famously proclaimed that you “will not make any more boring art.” Recently you stalked Jason Schwartzman in a Pacific Standard Time video and you told him, “Art should be fun.” You seem to be having a lot of fun.

John Baldessari: Yes, I think that’s high on my list. You know, you should enjoy what you’re doing. Well, anyone should enjoy what they’re doing. Not everybody’s that lucky. They get trapped having to make a living; it’s not what they enjoy. I feel very fortunate I can do what I like doing.

twi-ny: Whose idea was it to put your face on the buildings?

John Baldessari: That was kind of a set-up, which I didn’t mind. They wanted to do two videos, one of me, and one of Ed Ruscha — I guess, the two senior artists in L.A., whatever — and I said, sure, what the hell. They went through various names and they said, “How about Jason Schwartzman?” I’m so out of the loop, but all of my staff, young artists, they went gaga. “Jason Schwartzman? How cool is that?” And I said okay. Jason Schwartzman it is. Then the filmmaker came to talk to me, and it was the son of Bob Dylan, Jesse. Then, the way he described it, with this face-to-face, Jason and I, in conversation, I said, piece of cake, I’ve done that. But the structure was all him. It’s brilliant.

twi-ny: In the digital age, it seems that everyone now can be an artist, a photographer, a journalist, a writer, a filmmaker, whatever they want. Is there a lot more boring art now?

John Baldessari: I think one thing, everybody carries a camera with them, in terms of their smart phone, and we never see any physical prints. There are no more photo albums. As a result of that, I’m not interested in taking photographs. I mean, only if I need to. I used to carry a camera around with me. But now I think, why? I have no need to because somebody is going to have an image of this. I don’t have to do anything.

twi-ny: It’s taken away the process of acquiring source material.

John Baldessari: The pleasure. I remember in 1970 I gave my Nikon to my wife and said, “Listen, I have an assignment for you. Go out and photograph — the whole thirty-six-exposure roll — the most boring things you can find. Now it’s not so easy. It’s interesting too, your question. When I was teaching, one of my colleagues was Allan Kaprow at CalArts, and he was very prescient. He said the artist of the future will be an art director. You don’t have to do anything, like Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, me — you just have the idea. It’s really conceptual art with a vengeance. With conceptual art, you never presuppose that there would be much physicality to it, but my god, it’s physicality overkill.

John Baldessari combines art-historical imagery with song titles in latest exhibition (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

twi-ny: Getting back to “Double Play,” the range of works include Gauguin, Bacon, Dix, and primarily Courbet and Eilshemius. Were you looking specifically for images, or were there particular artists you had in mind?

John Baldessari: About two years ago, I decided I was going to start mining imagery from the history of art rather than from newspapers and magazines and TV, whatever, but going about it the same way. I wouldn’t try to get a good image of the work. I wanted it from the media. And then I’d have a huge library, and so I just started plowing through books, collections, individual artists, on and on and on. What I would be looking for would be something in an artist’s work that would be, in a way, inconsequential. There’s always a hierarchy of things in an artist’s work. If it’s a person, obviously you’re going to look at the person’s face, then you might look at what he has on or how he or she is standing. So I looked for something that seems to be the least interesting — oh, like this; that’s not very interesting, you know, that kind of thing — and then I would map out and isolate part of the image and say to an assistant, “Print all these out” so I could look at them and I would sort through those. I guess what I’d be looking for were things that would be visually interesting — to me, anyway, in a formalistic sense, not just in terms of subject matter — and then hopefully it will be interesting to somebody else, who knows. And then I start going through lists and lists of song titles, and then I play marriage broker in trying to get the two of them together somehow and in some way that provided some tension. You know, not an easy association, as I said, but something that was a little bit more difficult because I think one of the things I like to do is make things difficult for people, not in a burdensome way, but I think I got that idea once from reading Kierkegaard and he said, “My job in life is to make life difficult for people.”

twi-ny: To further the challenge, you don’t always take the most obvious part of the image.

John Baldessari: It’s a bit of an art history test. Yeah, some things are pretty obscure, so I made it difficult in that sense. But I think I’ve got a pretty good sense of the viewer, or the spectator, in having taught so long to support myself. So I couldn’t be so obtuse that I would lose people, you know, the students, or be so simplistic that I would lose the smart people. So I think I know how to be a little seductive but have enough there for the most intelligent person but not lose the average person. And of course, for me a model would be, like, Giotto or Matisse, where it looks deceptively simple but it’s not at all.

twi-ny: You mentioned your teaching. Some of your students have gone on to become famous artists themselves, people like Tony Oursler, who also has such an element of fun in his work.

John Baldessari: Absolutely. David Salle, another one, Matt Mullican, and on and on and on. Mike Kelley.

twi-ny: When you had them as students, could you tell which ones would potentially be successful, not necessarily financially but at least creatively?

John Baldessari: I had one sort of idea and I don’t even know if it’s true but I’ll share it with you. There’s always a kid in school that’s really smart, but I think because of that they’ve worked less hard, and the ones that are sort of a little bit way down, they work harder. Those are the students that seem to become successful.

twi-ny: One of the pieces you mentioned before, “Feelings,” is part of the Artists for Obama Portfolio, which also includes works by Frank Gehry, David Hammons, Jasper Johns, and many more. Why did you choose that piece for the project?

John Baldessari: I didn’t do it in any political way. I just thought, who doesn’t love dogs?

twi-ny: Finally, over the last several years, and in the video with Jason Schwartzman, you use cheese as a metaphor for appreciating art. What is your ideal cheese?

John Baldessari: You know, I think I said gorgonzola cheese because my father was Italian and that was the only cheese he would eat. And then I remember some perceptual psychologist writing about art and talking about tastes in art changing. I wish I had said it but I think it’s very apt. He said, when you start out, if you eat cheese at all, it might be Kraft cheese or whatever, and then you get tired of that and you sort of escalate and then you get to the point where smelly cheeses are all you can tolerate. And I thought that was a pretty good description of how taste changes.

DAVE COLE

Dave Cole, “The Music Box,” Caterpillar CS-533 Vibratory Roller-Compactor with cherry wood, spring steel, and United States National Anthem (arranged for steamroller), 2012 (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

DODGEgallery
15 Rivington St. between Bowery & Chrystie St.
Wednesday – Sunday through October 28, free
212-228-5122
www.dodge-gallery.com
www.davecoledavecole.com
dave cole slideshow

For New Hampshire–based artist Dave Cole, the carefully chosen materials he uses and the act of creation itself are as important as the final result. For past shows, in a studio that is more like an industrial workshop, he has made a large-scale teddy bear out of fiberglass, Native American breastplates out of military cartridges, a snowsuit using a Gulf War bulletproof vest, and an elegant gown composed of U.S. currency. Although he prefers not to make grand statements about his work, he does acknowledge that his pieces explore the dichotomy that is America, a land of hope and dreams as well as violence and war. “With my family’s background — four generations of people who left Europe fleeing religious persecution — it’d be ridiculous if I didn’t celebrate America,” Cole said several years ago. “On the other hand, it’d be unconscionable and deliberately ignorant of me to not call bullshit on America’s abuses.” For his second solo exhibition at DODGEgallery, Cole expands on that theme with an installation that explores the past, present, and future of a country still in search of its identity, beginning with the latest in his flag series, “American Flag (Lead),” an official-size U.S. flag hand sewn out of a lead sheet with stainless-steel cables and then run over by a pickup truck, representing an America that has been trampled on but can’t be destroyed. For “Song-Books of the War,” inspired by a WWI-era poem by Siegfried Sassoon (“In fifty years, when peace outshines / Remembrance of battle lines, / Adventurous lads will sigh and cast / Proud looks upon the plundered past.”), Cole has taken an old-fashioned wood-and-wicker wheelchair, which was once used by a member of his family, and placed on it approximately twenty thousand buffalo nickels that weigh the same as Cole, the artist feeling the weight of his personal and professional responsibilities. Known for his knitting of small and large objects, including a huge acrylic flag knitted with John Deere excavators in the Mass MoCA parking lot, Cole here includes “Singer,” a sewing machine that is hooked up to the internet, Googling itself and spewing out the search results in binary code onto a strip of bright yellow teletype paper. The brand name and sound are key here, evoking Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”; Cole has been strongly influenced by some of America’s greatest poets, including Whitman, Carl Sandburg, and T. S. Eliot.

Dave Cole, “American Flag (Lead),” lead sheet and stainless-steel cable, hand sewn, 2012 (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

In 2008, Cole fashioned a series of baby bottles out of cast Babbitt metal to military specifications. In the new show, he includes “Three Generations,” a trio of baby rattles in the form of hand grenades from WWII, the Vietnam War, and the more recent wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, made out of hand-turned hardwood and sterling silver. “Belt Plate (after Antietam)” is a boxing-size championship belt made from melted bullets and recycled lead type featuring the letters “US” on it, memorializing the bloodiest day in American history, when twenty-three thousand soldiers died in the 1862 Civil War battle. “The Star-Spangled Banner” might be played at the beginning of sports events and when U.S. Olympic athletes win gold medals, but Cole’s exhibition ends with a rather unique interpretation of the song, which was written in 1814 by Francis Scott Key after he witnessed the Battle of Fort McHenry. The centerpiece of the show (and accompanied by a maquette), “The Music Box” is a massive steamroller that barely fits into the downstairs space at Dodge. Commissioned by the Cleveland Institute of Art, it is a reconstructed thirteen-ton Caterpillar CS-533 Vibratory Roller-Compactor that Cole disassembled, then reassembled in exacting detail using more lightweight materials (as revealed by a video that plays next to it), adding a steel comb and tuning teeth to the drum so it plays a haunting rendition of the National Anthem as it turns. The song itself is famously difficult to sing, and this version, performed by an instrument of destruction and construction, makes that even more apparent, yet at the same time it is a symbol of America’s success and pride and innate ability to survive. A true craftsman, Cole has once again infused his work with multilayered nuances, both overt and covert, not afraid to face some hard truths about the country that he loves.

JONAH FREEMAN AND JUSTIN LOWE: STRAY LIGHT GREY

Marlborough installation consists of a series of rooms filled with mystery (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Marlborough Chelsea
545 West 25th St. between Tenth & Eleventh Aves.
Through October 27, free
212-463-8634
www.marlboroughgallery.com
stray light grey slideshow

In such installations as 2008’s “Hello Meth Lab in the Sun,” 2009’s “Black Acid Co-Op,” and 2010’s “Bright White Underground,” bicoastal artists Jonah Freeman and Justin Lowe have transformed gallery spaces into labyrinthine series of rooms where some very strange things seem to have occurred. For their latest project, “Stray Light Grey,” continuing at Marlborough Chelsea through October 27, they are inviting visitors to explore the never-completed Pale Hotel, a mysterious (fictional) environment built around an intriguing alternate-universe counterculture movement. Visitors make their way through a maze of abandoned rooms, including a former OTB parlor, a (mad?) dentist’s office, a bizarre cake shop, a dingy bathroom, a store selling odd items, and a fancy library, each room’s history linked to the San San International, a convention that began in 1855 focusing on plants and animals but later got involved in the world of genetic engineering. “It is now truly without theme or cohesion, a fair ostensibly about everything and nothing at all,” explains the Stray Light Grey newspaper, which is available for free at the gallery. The installation is also related to the hallucinatory drug Marasa, developed in 1956 by Octagon Ethnobotanical Laboratories; the anarchist group known as the Artichoke Underground, proponents of the Octopus, a drug-computer synthesis that melds man and machine; Arthurocide, the plant-mineral hybrid that led to genetically modified organisms; and the Shade, an urban-gang consortium battling against the lasting influence of the Friedrich-Barris dynasty. Of course, you don’t need to know all of that to get a kick out of the journey, which, one could argue, is “ostensibly about everything and nothing at all.”

EGON SCHIELE’S WOMEN

Galerie St. Etienne
24 West 57th St. between Fifth & Sixth Aves.
Tuesday, October 23, free, 6:00 – 8:00
Exhibition runs October 23 – December 28 (Tuesday-Saturday), free
212-245-6734
www.gseart.com
www.randomhouse.de

Over the last several years, there has been a heightened interest in the always-popular and well-regarded Austrian artist Egon Schiele. In 2010, John Kelly gave the final performance of his award-winning theater piece Pass the Blutwurst, Bitte, which dealt with Schiele’s female muses, and one of the highlights of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival was Andrew Shea’s Portrait of Wally, a gripping documentary about the ownership of Schiele’s portrait of mistress Walburga “Wally” Neuzil. Now Schiele expert Jane Kallir, the codirector of Midtown’s Galerie St. Etienne, which boasts one of the largest collections of works by the artist, has written Egon Schiele’s Women, (Prestel, October 25, 2012, $80), a gorgeous examination of the women in Schiele’s life and on his canvases, placing his work in context of the history of Austrian art and evolving views on women’s freedom and sexuality. Kallir, who appears in Portrait of Wally, looks at Schiele’s relationship with his mother, his sister, various models, and his wife and sister-in-law. The book boasts more than 250 images, including dozens and dozens of splendid reproductions of paintings and drawings by Schiele (not limited to female subjects but also including glorious self-portraits and male figures) as well as works by Oskar Kokoschka, Gustave Klimt, Alfred Kubin, and Edvard Munch, archival photographs, a timeline, a bibliography, and an extensive index. In conjunction with the publication of the book, Galerie St. Etienne is opening the companion exhibit “Egon Schiele’s Women,” consisting of more than four dozen works by Schiele. “While Schiele, in his personal life, was hardly a feminist, in his art he freed women from the controlling male narrative that had heretofore shaped the interpretive discourse,” the exhibition essay explains. “His nudes, in particular, not only challenged the taboos of his time, but presaged the more fluid, open-ended approach to gender and sexuality that prevails today.” Kallir will be at the opening-night celebration of the exhibit, giving a gallery talk and signing copies of the book at 7:00. In addition, she will be at the American Jewish Historical Society on October 22 at 6:30 ($15), participating in the “Culture Brokers: Jews as Art Dealers and Collectors” panel discussion with Emily Bilski and Charles Dellheim.