At hand: the rounded shapes—cloud white, the scissors—sharp, two dozen toothpick pegs, a vial of amber glue. It's February, London, 1953, and he's at play, James Watson: the cardboard shapes, two dozen toothpick pegs, a vial of amber glue. White [...]
Winter and summer the watchman sat on the roof of the palace of Atreidas and looked out. Now he tells the joyful news. He saw a fire flare in the distance.
To honor the National Gallery of Art's exhibition The Art of Romare Bearden, the first comprehensive Bearden retrospective in more than a decade, VQR asked National Book Award-finalist Kevin Young to respond to ten of Bearden's photomontages.
First there were two of me, no doubt because I could not move and could not speak. Wrapped snug as mummies or cigars, they looked larval, inept and cold, and lay swaddled in anesthesia as I peered down on them—so there were three of us—and on my [...]
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