In various Spike Lee Joints, Jews have been scapegoats, turncoats, victims, allies, bystanders, exploiters, and friends.
Winogrand was the Augie March of American photography.
Even in his most harebrained projects, Cohen couldn’t help being cool.
This may be the least exciting book ever written about taking to the streets, but I don’t mean that as an insult.
Rosler seems to have converted to an inflexible sect of conceptual art, which sounds suspiciously like the thing she thought she was fleeing.
Kubrick was, by most accounts, a nervous, quiet kid. He was also sharp and undeniably gifted with a camera.
“There’s a cavalcade of medieval monster artwork that lays bare the era’s anti-Semitism.”
Visconti’s last films are a kind of middle finger raised at his critics.