Not quite a photorealist, not quite a photographer, Malcolm Morley gives an ironic kick to painting’s oldest function: documenting the familiar.

"I did several paintings where I just replaced time with space."

Since the “Sensation” explosion, Chris Ofili has turned inward—and gone to the beach.

There’s a guy on the street who paints copies of my “Nurse” paintings. I think it’s funny. I actually bought one; I thought it was pretty close.

As his new retrospective at ICP makes clear, photographer Larry Clark was hot for teen decadence before the rest of the culture caught on.

Clamber down the basement steps of the Bohen Foundation, on West 13th Street, and you’ll be descending into End Station, a site-specific project by a pair of artists known as Elmgreen & Dragset.

Theoretical art is so eighties and nineties.

Tim Hawkinson’s survey at the Whitney is full of buzzing contraptions, assembled with the kind of creative electrical engineering familiar to residents of college dorms and unrenovated brownstones.

When NASA scientists launched Voyager II in 1977, they attached Carl Sagan’s golden record holding more than 100 images—a primer on human civilization, minus war, disease, and other unflattering earthly facts.

In the late seventies and early eighties, Peter Hujar roamed the no-man’s-lands of downtown New York after-hours and turned his camera on fellow nightcrawlers.