How to See

August 1, 2016
In these wide-ranging essays, painter Salle’s stated goal is to write about art “in the language that artists use when they talk among themselves.” Rather than a manifesto about art or a practical guide, he presents a collection of 33 short essays on artists and topics as different as John Baldessari’s 2014 Movie Script series and the evolving sensibility of Dadaist Francis Picabia’s paintings. Many of the artists Salle covers are his friends, and he writes about Alex Katz and Jeff Koons the way a collaborator shares his notes with other artists. He explains the career arc of painter Christopher Wool and the themes of Robert Gober’s sculptures with precision and acuity. His writing is full of memorable lines, such as “Most painting is a conversation between continuity and novelty.” Salle’s personal familiarity with the artists he discusses lends a special sort of credibility to his critical assessments. By closely examining specific paintings and exhibitions that are meaningful to him, Salle shows readers what makes a particular work of art tick and what makes it interesting. Along the way, he reveals the origins of his own artistic inclinations and his beliefs about talent and imagination. Sharp insights and an affable tone make this collection equivalent to a hearty discussion with a mentor—recommended for anyone interested in visual arts. 30 color illus.

Seeing art through a painter's eyes. Salle is something of a Renaissance man. Known primarily as a painter, he has also done photography and set design, directed a film, and written essays. These concise pieces, many previously published in publications like Town & Country and Artforum, discuss mainly contemporary works of art, including film and ballet. It's art criticism, but it's also a breath of fresh air. There's no jargon here, just accessible, witty, smartly informative short takes about works Salle enjoys. When looking at art, he writes, "take a work's temperature, look at its surface energy." He asks: "What makes a work of art tick, what makes it good?" Surprising, quirky comparisons abound. The 15th-century painter Piero Della Francesca is the "Elia Kazan of staging." Alex Katz's paintings are recognizable even when falling out of a plane at 30,000 feet. Thomas Houseago's sculptures remind Salle of a scene in The Sopranos. Throughout, the author is honest and opinionated. When he first saw Roy Lichtenstein's Reflections series, he was baffled. Frank Stella's early works are "expansive, confident, and new as to be almost overwhelming." In the later work, we see a "great champion of the ring, a little wobbly of knee, finally hit the canvas." Of Oscar Murillo's paintings, Salle writes, "there is no way to bring them to life, because they never lived in the first place." Three essays are about John Baldessari, one of Salle's college professors, who spent his career putting words and pictures together, "testing their stickiness and elasticity, using one to unravel, or to gather up, the other." The German painter Albert Oehlen is a "terrific painter who flirts with disaster and gets away with it." Jeff Koons makes the "thingyness of modern life...coherent." His massive Flower Puppy, writes the author, is the "single greatest work of public sculpture made after Rodin that I've seen." Salle is the perfect art tour guide: literate, thoroughly entertaining, and insightful. COPYRIGHT(1) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Starred review from August 1, 2016
Seeing art through a painters eyes. Salle is something of a Renaissance man. Known primarily as a painter, he has also done photography and set design, directed a film, and written essays. These concise pieces, many previously published in publications like Town & Country and Artforum, discuss mainly contemporary works of art, including film and ballet. Its art criticism, but its also a breath of fresh air. Theres no jargon here, just accessible, witty, smartly informative short takes about works Salle enjoys. When looking at art, he writes, take a works temperature, look at its surface energy. He asks: What makes a work of art tick, what makes it good? Surprising, quirky comparisons abound. The 15th-century painter Piero Della Francesca is the Elia Kazan of staging. Alex Katzs paintings are recognizable even when falling out of a plane at 30,000 feet. Thomas Houseagos sculptures remind Salle of a scene in The Sopranos. Throughout, the author is honest and opinionated. When he first saw Roy Lichtensteins Reflections series, he was baffled. Frank Stellas early works are expansive, confident, and new as to be almost overwhelming. In the later work, we see a great champion of the ring, a little wobbly of knee, finally hit the canvas. Of Oscar Murillos paintings, Salle writes, there is no way to bring them to life, because they never lived in the first place. Three essays are about John Baldessari, one of Salles college professors, who spent his career putting words and pictures together, testing their stickiness and elasticity, using one to unravel, or to gather up, the other. The German painter Albert Oehlen is a terrific painter who flirts with disaster and gets away with it. Jeff Koons makes the thingyness of modern lifecoherent. His massive Flower Puppy, writes the author, is the single greatest work of public sculpture made after Rodin that Ive seen. Salle is the perfect art tour guide: literate, thoroughly entertaining, and insightful.

COPYRIGHT(2016) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.