The Whitney Biennial

It’s ridiculous to review a show like the Whitney Biennial. You try to fabricate in reverse a curatorial vision that encompasses every detail and end up with a laundry list. Critics never say good things about the Biennial; whatever the Biennial is meant to be, they never like it.

In my opinion, here’s what it comes down to: a good 80% of the art on view anywhere, at any time, is crap. I’ve been to three Biennials now, and it's no exception. Just walk past the crap and spend time with the good stuff.

And as always, there is good stuff. This time many good, well-established artists were given whole rooms to work with. Here’s what I liked, in the order I saw the pieces, moving from the fourth floor down to the second. You could print this out and take it as your guide! Continued below.



Kori Newkirk’s “Glint,” a hanging rectangle of hair extensions and beads.






Robert Gober’s room of photos, as understated and moving as all of his work, offering beautiful pieces of garbage in place of a gay-bashed young man.






Kenneth Anger’s room of stills from his movies, weird tributes to him from various artist-fans, and a trippy Mickey Mouse video.






Francesco Vezzoli’s fake preview for a remake of Caligula, with an all-star Hollywood cast that includes Courtney Love as Caligula.






A video by Tony Oursler and others, “Don’t Trust Anyone Over Thirty, all over again,” featuring marionettes in 1970s costumes having orgies and doing hallucinogens.






Dawolu Jabari Anderson’s “Frederick Douglass Self-Defense Manual” series, prints of black men in martial-arts poses such as “Hand Seeks Cotton.”






Otabenga Jones & Associates, “Exploring the Outer Reaches of the Garden of Pro-Black Sanctuary”—you peek through a brick wall to see a spaceship-type thing landing in an idyllic pastoral landscape. Image not available.

Tags: Whitney Biennial, culture