Sentences with phrase «when cultural critics»

By the end of the 1970s, when cultural critics began speaking of «the end of painting» (the title of a provocative essay written in 1981 by Douglas Crimp), new media art had become a category in itself, with a growing number of artists experimenting with technological means such as video art.

Not exact matches

This posture is assumed when those writers represent the major islands of Western literary tradition, the central cultural engine — so it goes — of racism, poverty, sexism, homophobia, and imperialism: a cesspool that literary critics would expose for mankind's benefit.

But its roots are traceable to the end of the 19th century when influential cultural critics - Matthew Arnold chief among them - drew critical attention to deep concordances between religion and art with their predictions that, in Arnold's famous phrase, «most of what now passes with us for religion will be replaced by poetry.»

Though a satirist always risks blowback, both from those who don't get the joke and from some who do, when it comes to social criticism, I tend to follow what we might call the Joe Bob Briggs Doctrine: think of the social critic as a machine gun spraying fire across the cultural landscape, and «when a target screams, you've found the sacred cow.

For a medium that's treated like the redheaded stepchild of the film world, then, it is especially maddening for cultural critics to hold it to a higher standard of quality only when they feel like it.

Hell, how can they have enhanced the cultural heritage when nobody but critics and a handful of festivalgoers have had the chance to, well, been, enriched by them?

When the movie adaptation of The Fault in Our Stars hit theaters in June, cultural critics like Slate's Ruth Graham immediately started lampooning grownups who read YA books that «abandon the mature insights... that they (supposedly) have acquired as adults.»

In a recent episode of his absorbing podcast, «Revisionist History,» cultural critic Malcolm Gladwell interrogates a statue modeled after a news photograph of a confrontation in 1963 between a police officer with a dog and a young black boy in Birmingham, Alabama.1 Made by African American sculptor Dr. Ronald McDowell, The Foot Soldier (1995) is far more horrific than the photo, Gladwell convincingly argues, because it bears an added imaginative potency: the narrative is told by a traditionally silenced voice, and for Gladwell this «is just what happens when the people on the bottom finally get the power to tell the story their way.»

Damien Hirst's masterpiece generated enormous press attention when it was first exhibited at The Saatchi Gallery, and many notable art critics including Brian Sewell and Robert Hughes refused to accept that it was art at all — Hughes went so far as to call it a «cultural obscenity».

When interviewed in 1994 by the cultural critic Suzi Gablik, he was quite specific about his point of view.