Monuments we deserve

I have previously discussed statues and monuments in two separate Quillette articles published in 2023 and 2025 respectively. The first one was about the muddled mess of a monument to MLK by Hank Willis Thomas on Boston Common, and the second about Thomas J Price’s unfortunate installation in the Times Square. My most recent publication in the Christmas issue of The Spectator considers what monuments reveal about broader societal dynamics. Public monuments are often treated as stable carriers of historical truth, yet their meanings are anything but fixed. They are shaped as much by ideology as by cultural anxiety about preserving nobility and purpose. In this essay, I move beyond familiar arguments for the preservation or removal of statues to ask what these objects actually do in civic life. At a moment when public memory is deeply contested, monuments become mirrors, reflecting contemporary values as much as the past they claim to represent.

Wayne Thiebaud’s Figure Paintings

My contribution to Rizzoli’s recent monograph on Wayne Thiebaud—a retrospective look at the painter, who passed away in 2021 at the age of 100—considers his figure paintings as rigorous meditations on perception, stillness, and the elusive drama of the everyday. Rejecting sentimental or anecdotal portraiture, Thiebaud cultivates a suspended psychological charge, inviting viewers into the role of Wollheim’s “unrepresented spectator.” His sitters—poised before or after action—occupy pared-down spaces where gesture is displaced by the quiet gravity of presence. Through this deliberate withholding, Thiebaud reanimates classical problems of painting, aligning himself with Velázquez and Manet while translating their concerns into an American vernacular. His figures do not perform; they simply—and profoundly—are.

The art of demolition

In “Appetite for Destruction,” published in Quillette, I trace a through-line from the vanished Bonwit Teller reliefs to the current transformation of the White House’s East Wing. Designed in 1929 in the Art Deco style, the Bonwit Teller bas-reliefs were originally promised as a gift to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but were destroyed in 1980 during the construction of Trump Tower—a moment that marked the ascendancy of branding over craftsmanship. Both that act and the recent White House remodel reveal a modern impulse to equate demolition with authorship, the rewriting of history as a declaration of power. The essay considers how architecture functions as both aesthetic expression and political gesture: what it means when the rhetoric of preservation yields to that of renovation.

Posthumanism, memes, and the end of the real

In our latest co-authored article, David Hawkes and I explore how political murder changes when filtered through memes, online circulation, and algorithmic reproduction. What emerges is less a crime of passion than a collapse of subjectivity, where digital culture blurs the line between image and act.

Svetlana Alpers on Art and Art History

My review of Svetlana Alpers beautiful new book Is Art History? (Hunters Point Press, 2024) is out in the Summer issue of The Hedgehog Review.

Wayne Thiebaud at the Legion of Honor

“Wayne Thiebaud: Art Comes from Art,” which opened at the California Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco on March 22, is organized by the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco and curated by Timothy Anglin Burgard. Its premise, spelled out in the title, is straight forward enough and firmly based on the artist’s own ideas about painting. Wayne Thiebaud (1920–2021) spoke about his debt to other painters on numerous occasions, half-jokingly calling himself an “obsessive thief.” Those who studied and wrote about his work, as well as his students of many decades, are already well aware of Thiebaud’s inextricable connection to art history. Unfortunately, that is not yet true of the public, delighted as they are by his familiar subject matter and the bright palette of his paintings and prints.

While admiring his luscious renditions of deli or haberdashery counters, typical museumgoers (and even some art critics) are still largely content to see his work as a West Coast variety of American Pop Art—a more painterly version of the East Coast’s obsession with hand-rendered imitations of mechanical reproduction (Warhol and Lichtenstein) or commercial cornucopia (Rosenquist and Oldenburg). Despite the painter’s vociferous objections to being called a Pop artist, there are plenty of Thiebaud lovers who pine for comprehensive exhibitions of his “greatest hits” accompanied by reassuring platitudes about the uniqueness of California Pop.  

The Legion of Honor exhibition disabuses any attentive visitor of the idea that Thiebaud, although he spent most of his life in California, was a regional painter, a Pop artist, or a popularizer of Americana disconnected from the art of other places and other times. Its portrayal of Thiebaud is familiar to those who had the privilege of knowing him: a worldly, curious intellectual, an art connoisseur, a man of supple mind and a lively sense of humor, and, above all, a “practicing art historian” (his own description of Picasso), whose painting was nearly always a response to the art that captivated him. Thiebaud’s stated goal was to create painting of a “different visual species”—different from the real world and from all other painting, yet informed by both, as well as by the individual world of the painter. “Art Comes from Art” takes the viewer behind the scenes, into Thiebaud’s studio, his classroom, and even his home (where most of his art collection was kept), showing how, according to Tim Burgard, the painter’s “overt homage, covert theft, and intuitive transformation” led to the creation of what Thiebaud himself called his unique and “different visual species.”

To read the entire article, click on the image above.

Decorating Our Decline

My recent Quillette article about Thomas J Price’s unfortunate installations in Times Square. Once again ideologically charged art produces unintended results. I explain how Price’s bronze giantess and his Orwellian “Man Series” billboards echo some cringeworthy art history.