Katherine Bradford

Swim Team Outerspace

2020

Digital print on Fuji Crystal Archive Matte paper 11 3/4 x 11 3/4 in 30 x 30 cm Edition of 300

Anish Kapoor, Breathing Blue, 2020 Digital print on 350gsm paper From a limited edition of 100. Printed title and name of the artist on the reverse. Pu...

Ed Ruscha, He Up and Went Downtown, Porcelain Plate, 2020 Porcelain plate From a limited edition of 175 10.5 × 10.5 in (26.7 × 26.7 cm) NOTES: The only edition to date from Ruscha...

Marina Abramović Unconditional Love, 2024 Hand signed COA Two colour screenprint 8 1/4 x 10 5/8 in 21 x 27 cm Published by CIRCA in 2024. Produced in a Time Limited Edition of 4,152.

Richard Prince, The Greeting Card Jokes #2: The Best Friend, 2011 Foil-stamped print, on heavy wove paper, folded. As new condition, never framed or displayed. Hand signed and numbered by the artist, verso. Private collection (UK). From a limited edition of 100. 6.25 x 8.5 in (15.9 x 21.6 cm) Notes: Text image from Richard Prince's iconic Jokes series. Signed and numbered by the artist in ink on interior of card. Incorporating jokes reflective of the “borscht belt” humor prevalent in the 1950's, Prince's Joke works tap into social preoccupations of the national subconscious. Prior to Prince's use of the jokes, many had infiltrated popular culture, gradually losing their original authors to become adopted by a largely oral tradition. Beginning in 1984, Richard Prince began assembling one-line gag cartoons and ‘borscht belt’ jokes from the 1950's which he redrew onto small pieces of paper. "Artists were casting sculptures in bronze, making huge paintings, talking about prices and clothes and cars and spending vast amounts of money. So I wrote jokes on little pieces of paper and sold them for $10 each". Following the hand-written jokes and subsequent works in which cartoon images were silk-screened onto canvas, in 1987 Prince adopted a more radical, formulaic strategy of mechanically reproducing classic one liners and gags onto a flat monochrome canvas. Richard Prince's work has been among the most innovative art produced in the United States during the past 30 years. His deceptively simple act in 1977 of rephotographing advertising images and presenting them as his own ushered in an entirely new, critical approach to art-making — one that questioned notions of originality and the privileged status of the unique aesthetic object. Prince's technique involves appropriation; he pilfers freely from the vast image bank of popular culture to create works that simultaneously embrace and critique a quintessentially American sensibility: the Marlboro Man...

Richard Prince, The Greeting Card Jokes #2: The Best Friend, 2011 Foil-stamped print, on heavy wove paper, folded. As new condition, never framed or displaye...

Carrie Marill House Plants (Suite of 4), 2020 archival pigment print 14" x 11" (each) paper size (suite of 4) Edition of 10 Carrie Marill is a meticulous...

Kenny Schachter "Pay Nothing". Archival digital print on wove paper. Published in 2020. Edition of 60. Hand signed and numbered by the artist, verso. ‘At the height of Covid, various activist groups arose to protect artists and others from unlawful evictions for non-payment of rent due to their lack of earning capacity by an economy that all but ground to a halt—other than for the multinationals that always seem to prosper in times of crisis. One such grassroots advocacy initiative in April of 2020, was CANTPAYMAY which I spotted on artist Nicole Eisenman’s Instagram feed by way of a poster she created which proclaimed: “RENT STRIKE! STAND IN SOLIDARITY WITH THOUSANDS OF NEW YORKERS ON RENT STRIKE DURING #CANTPAYMAY. WITH MILLIONS OF NEW YORKERS OUT OF WORK, WE CAN AND MUST #CANCELRENT. SIGN THE RENT STRIKE PLEDGE TO JOIN THE MOVEMENT!” Pay Nothing is an appropriation of Ed Ruscha’s 2003 painting Pay Nothing Until April; though Ruscha attempts to disclaim meaning in his text works, it clearly references the loaded notion of having to pay-up in April, which is when both State and Federal taxes are owed across the country, as all US taxpayers are only painfully all too aware. “Says Ruscha: ‘I’m empty headed in many ways, and don’t know why I follow what I follow. Like most people, I operate on an automatic mode, and everything is an involuntary reflex. Logic flies out of the window when you’re making a picture, at least it does with me. And thank God it does.’” @tate In the context of the Covid pandemic, Pay Nothing signifies the fact that if a population is deprived of the means to earn a living, we still must eat and have a roof over our heads to feed and shelter ourselves and families. For, if we don’t have the ready capacity to provide, as Malcom X...

Burnt Place 03 - After the fire swept through, the forest was left scorched and barren. The ground is still warm and the unstirring air is thick with the scent of charred wood. Scorched, lifeless pines stand solemn and mournful in the shadows of the Burnt Place. About the Twilight's Path project: "We spend our lives surrounded by the security of possessions, relationships and roles, but our futures hold nothing so substantial; one day we must all enter into true not- knowing - into a dark, unconscious place." Jasper Goodall...

Stolen Kiss is a color photograph by Julie Blackmon and is part of her ongoing series Domestic Vacations. Domestic Vacations: The Dutch proverb "a Jan Steen household" originated i...

Babysitter, 2006 by Julie Blackmon is from her ongoing series Domestic Vacations. The Dutch proverb “a Jan Steen household” originated in the 17th century and is used today to refe...

Reviewing the photographs of Julie Blackmon, critic Leah Ollman of the Los Angeles Times wrote: “Each frame is an absorbing, meticulously orchestrated slice of ethnographic theater … that abounds with tender humor but also shrewdly subtle satire.” Blackmon is a native of Springfield, MO, and her photographs are inspired by her experience of growing up the oldest of nine children—including five sisters—in what she calls “a generic American town in the middle of the U.S.” In college, Blackmon was introduced to the work of artists Sally Mann, Diane Arbus, and Helen Levitt, and she describes herself as “obsessed” with their images. “When my three children were small,” she recalls, “we moved into an old house with a darkroom in the basement. Like any mother, I wanted to take pictures of my kids. But I didn’t want to be just the ‘mother photographer.’ I wanted my work to be more: more penetrating, more artful, more striking, more thoughtful, more a reflection of the times. “Over the next few years, I progressed from making documentary black and white photographs of my life and the lives of my sisters to creating colorful, fictitious images that offered a more fantastical look at everyday life. My work became more conceptual, as I began to realize that I was not obligated to capture “reality” exactly, but that I could work more like a painter or a filmmaker, actively shaping the images I was creating. This realization—that fiction can often capture the truth more memorably than reality—was a major shift in how I saw the world around me, and it transformed my work.” “It’s thrilling to see the most common aspects of everyday life as potential stories or themes for a photograph. It changes how you see things: suddenly, a Starbucks employee on a smoke break, or an outmoded beauty shop catering to an elderly clientele, can spark a memorable image. As Nora Ephron...