The best stalls for independence in the 20th century

How rare and beautiful it is to meet a good masterpiece outside the museum wall. That treasure is Leonor Fini’s 1941 painting l’AlcôveThis depicts a sleeping man and a woman staring at him. Both numbers are almost naked, and the fact is that this is the fact that the female character is doing her appearance here, which makes the encounter that man (androgynous, to be sure) submissive and lying on his back. She is in power, so it is not surprising that Fini once labeled “the real revolutionary”. It’s a erotic tension about surreal art, but it’s even more interesting because Fini is one of the few female artists who break into most of the male inner circles of the movement.

Rowland Weinstein, founder of Weinstein Gallery, photographed the painting at the 2022 Venice Biennale and is now for $3.5 million, one of the expensive works available for purchase at the New York Expo this week. It is viewed here with many other Fini gems, including a cat mask made of pebbles.

The Italian artist is another alumnus of Cecilia Alemani’s Venice Biennale 2022, affiliated with the Arte Programmata movement in the 1960s, whose suppliers use grid-like structures extensively. Di Luciano’s paintings in that era were filled with undulating lattices painted in black and white, which were presented so precisely that they seemed to be spit out by computers. In fact, Di Luciano painted them by hand and then painted them up close, and you can see her acrylic stroke hardly exceeds the lines she sketched in advance. The joy of these works is watching Di Luciano’s sense of strict order descend into chaos. This could explain why the now 93-year-old artist continues to use her free hands to make her repetitive paintings stroke. An untitled piece from 2024 comes with a series of blue dashes, some of which curl into spirals.

A piece hanging from this stall depicts a leaf, drawn in a way that you hardly notice how weird it is. Below that leaf are a few animals – perhaps a tan spot. Why is the leaves so big and why doesn’t the animals notice it? Perhaps it was because Luis Ouvrard tried to represent the landscape, not as he saw it, but as he imagined it was. Ouvrard, the son of a French immigrant, built most of his career in the Argentine city of Rosario. His career captures rural areas of the city in a way that recalls Impressionism—where a job even portrays a bunch of prairie, a clear tribute to Monet’s “Meules” series. But according to this excellent booth, Ouvrard will be better when training the particularity of this land mushroom (1983), in which fungi sprout from grass ridges from all directions.

When Balraj Khanna’s daughter Kaushalia recently wrote that her father “blowed his energy into his canvas”, she meant: Khanna did indeed breathe into the tube close to his painting, creating the spotted color area. Unusual processes show that his paintings cannot be separated from his own body and expand his own experiences – they are more than just formalistic experiments. Born in India, Khanna is headquartered in England and sometimes referred to in the landscape in the latter country, and the abstract here represents the pond at Hampstead Heath Park in London. Kaushalia wrote that after Balraj left Indian of Punjab, his “contact with nature gradually decreased”, which was once a forest. Khanna strongly reignites his relationship with the surrounding landscape when abstractly depicting the small critworm located below the surface of the pond.

An excellent painting on this stall is a train coming towards us, and its headlights emitted a burst of light in the dark. Odoteres Ricardo de Ozias, the manufacturer of the painting, knows very well about trains like this – he works for a Brazilian railway company. He was able to draw images like this because he witnessed them firsthand. However, when he began to produce these works, mainstream Brazilian institutions often exuded their own artistic views. He was born in 1940 in Eugenópolis, an agricultural town of Minas Gerais, a state with a large black population, and he often represents elements of the African-Brazilian experience, including the candomblé ceremony. Even though Ozias’s visual language was spare, it was still obvious that he carefully observed his depiction. Attentional gaze Iyalorixá (Princesie) In a painting here: As they do business, two women briefly turn around and stare at a white bird soaring overhead.