Rediscovered in the late 19th century, celebrated by authors, acknowledged and embraced by the 20th century avant-garde, the artist has enjoyed the dual prestige of tradition and modernity, linking Titian to the Fauvists and Mannerism to Cubism, Expressionism, Vorticism and Abstraction up to the Action painting.
This retrospective is the first major exhibition in France ever to be dedicated to this artist.
Born in Crete in 1541, Domenico Theotokopoulos, known as El Greco, undertook his initial apprenticeship in the Byzantine tradition before refining his training in Venice and then Rome. However, it was in Spain that his art flourished, firmly taking root from the 1577s. Attracted by the incredible promise of the El Escorial site, the artist brought Titian’s colour, Tintoretto’s audacity and Michelangelo’s heroic style. This eloquent combination, original yet consistent with his own way, gave El Greco (who died four years after Caravaggio) a unique place in the history of painting, as the last grand master of the Renaissance and the first great painter of the Golden Age.
Whereas most Wright biographies build from one structure to the next, this one caroms from one digression to the next. Mr. Hendrickson spins miniature biographies of the people who commissioned Wright to build their homes and office buildings. An array of midcentury figures appears: e.g., Glenway Wescott, the novelist and poet who rubbed shoulders with Gertrude Stein in Paris and whose sister commissioned one of Wright’s homes; and Clarence Darrow, the renowned lawyer, who waded into the murk of Wright’s personal life when a disgruntled housekeeper attempted to use the Mann Act to have Wright arrested. We also meet the little-known residents of various structures. Seth Peterson, for instance, dreamed of living in a Wright home so powerfully that he camped out in the one he commissioned as it was being built.
The tantalizing combination of brown butter and fried sage may have its origin in Italy, but it turns out to work just as well with pita as it does with pasta. At Miss Ada, a restaurant in Fort Greene, it gets spooned, nutty and fragrant, over a sweet but earthy carrot hummus, and again over a bowl of fluffy whipped ricotta. The pita—warm, puffy, chewy—goes perfectly, too, with a rich, stretchy stracciatella cheese, its milky surface marbled with little golden ponds of olive oil and topped with, depending on the season, heirloom tomatoes, basil, cucumbers, and red onion, or snap peas, blood orange, ground-cherries, and kumquat.

There’s also a special focus on architecture and design in this new approach to the collection: Several galleries are devoted to various aspects of those fields, including “The Vertical City,” an examination of skyscraper construction that includes photos by Berenice Abbott, Hugh Ferriss’s architectural drawings, and other ephemera. Elsewhere, building models of the Guggenheim and a spec design of MoMA by modernist master William Lescaze emphasize the importance of architecture to museums, and vice versa.
I describe myself as an urban-based painter who is interested in green spaces. Painting and drawing have been seen as profoundly unfashionable for most of my working life, and I have felt sometimes that it was quite eccentric to be a figurative painter with conventional subject matter. Looking back, my insistence on maintaining my practice as a figurative painter now seems more radical than conventional.
I was very blessed to have the opportunity to catch up with Hogan ahead of her Mayfair exhibition. I find myself entranced by her vibrant paintings that are dense with detail, filling the canvas from edge to edge with layers upon layers of paint. She has also established portraiture practice, her commissions including HRH The Prince of Wales. In a unique style, Hogan paints her sitters whilst they are deep in conversation, capturing unguarded gestures and expressions to create intricate portraits of both honesty and intimacy.

The creators of Noori based the product on the traditional rocket stove design, which burns small-diameter wood fuel in a combustion chamber linked to an insulated vertical chimney.
“The most important thing that we do is we never shake the martini. James Bond had it all wrong,” says Scuto. Shaking it incorporates too much ice, making for a watery drink, and, if it’s a gin martini, it potentially bruises the delicate aromatics. Instead, the drink is stirred roughly 12 times—bartenders use careful discretion—with ice, which is made with filtered water and a top-of-the-line Japanese Hoshizaki ice machine. The liquor is then carefully strained into a glass. It’s “all in the hand of the masters,” says Scuto.
Age change should be allowed when the following three conditions are met. First, the person is at risk of being discriminated against because of age. Second, the person’s body and mind are in better shape than would be expected based on the person’s chronological age (that is, the person is biologically younger than he is chronologically). Third, the person does not feel that his legal age is befitting.