In the group exhibition “No Forms,” on view at the Hill Art Foundation through July 15, the curator Margot Norton places a trio of Martin’s numinous works in a gratifyingly rangy conversation with recent pieces by seventeen female and gender-nonconforming artists, with an eye on restrained beauty and a slippage of categories. Paintings are sculptural (Dyani White Hawk’s exacting composition on canvas is rendered in shimmering beads), solid objects defy gravity (Agnieszka Kurant’s subtly magical “Air Rights”), and the deepest space here appears in 2-D (Tauba Auerbach’s bewitching trompe-l’oeil acrylic on paper). Ruby Sky Stiler vivifies the familiar Minimalist trope of the grid—and thumbs her nose at the movement’s rule of no figures allowed—in her effervescent, mosaic-like portrait, “Father and Child”.
“Pictures of Beasley’s grandfather’s trailer, blown up and printed across still more T-shirts, cover two of the pieces on view at “A body, revealed,” another show of the artist’s work, running through the end of April at Manhattan’s Hill Art Foundation. In a way, these resin-treated tees reconstruct the mobile home, sold off years ago, inside the gallery — a place and its former occupant unearthed by their absence.”
“People of refinement have a disinclination to colors,” Goethe argued in an 1810 treatise on chromatic perception. That’s as good a justification as any for the three shows, all excellent, quite unalike, staged so far at this private foundation. Last year we saw the paintings and photography of Christopher Wool (black, white, gray) and the sculptures of Charles Ray (silver, aluminum); now the Hill turns to Minjung Kim, a South Korean artist whose painstaking, profoundly beautiful ink paintings deploy, in the main, a muffled palette of grays and blacks.”
“Andy Hall: You opened the Hill Art Foundation a year ago. Has it changed the direction of your collecting?
Tom Hill: After doing the Christopher Wool show—which he curated—I saw his work in a different light. As a result, I pursued additional pieces, and we now have the largest collection of his works. But the show also gave me more perspective. The same thing happened with the Charles Ray show, for which Charles juxtaposed his work with Renaissance and baroque bronzes of both pagan and Christian themes. I literally bought another religious bronze because of it.”
“The installation is a lesson in withholding: there are only nine pieces included over the two floors, with every wall-mounted object given its own wall and each sculpture in the round provided its own generous floor space. As a result, we can draw quite close to objects that would more often be seen sharing cases with others.”
“Bright and early on a recent Saturday, Charles Ray, the Los Angeles sculptor, stepped out of the Four Seasons Hotel, and walked west on Fifty-seventh Street. Ray, who is sixty-six, was in town for the opening of a show at the Hill Art Foundation, in Chelsea. At the luxuriously spare nonprofit space, his enigmatic sculptures—a life-size aluminum mime stretched on a camping bed, a sterling-silver mountain lion about to maul a dog, an apple core wrought in gold—were presented alongside Renaissance and Baroque bronzes, among them three Christs, which were selected by the artist from the collection of the hedge-fund billionaire J. Tomilson Hill and his wife, Janine. The curatorial gambit threw into relief the solemn, even spiritual quality of Ray’s pieces, which can take fifteen years to complete.”
“It’s not a museum; it’s an art foundation,” says Hill, who, as a board member of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and former chair of the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, knows the difference. “A museum implies permanence and a higher scholarly framework. This is about our taste and our objectives around education. This is personal. It’s about what I like.”
“What especially struck Hill was the correlation—an unconscious influence, perhaps—of Barthélemy Prieur’s 16th-century bronze Lion Devouring a Doe had on Ray’s 2018 sterling-silver sculpture Mountain lion attacking dog. Hill, who purchased the Prieur work from the collection of Baron Thyssen-Bornemisza, realized that Ray could be fit for the task of curating a show placing works like these side-by-side. Both pieces will feature in the forthcoming exhibition.”
“After making layered, silk-screened floral patterns in the 1990s, Mr. Wool became more gestural; three extraordinary paintings here from the 2000s, with cloudy spray-gun loop-de-loops and merciless erasures, exhibit a simultaneous love and doubt of abstraction that recalls the best of Albert Oehlen. His enthrallingly difficult later silk-screens cannibalize his own archive, discordantly remixing earlier works and treating paint as both material and information.”
“You don’t wake up with expertise in any given area or field. You have to read. You have to look. You have to go. You have to see the exhibitions. You have to talk to the dealers. You have to talk to the museum people. And you have to understand what you like.”
“This is a sensational show…They mix their statuettes with paintings and other works old and new, and Ms. Allen has superbly juxtaposed them here in a wonderfully clean installation, free of both vitrines and the works’ small bases, called socles. But the big news is that this is the first time late-20th-century paintings have hung in the Frick.”
“I thought it would be great, in New York City, where I was first exposed to art, to share my collection with the public, to allow visitors to see how I think about art, how I juxtapose pieces, as I do in my homes. While the foundation is totally personal, it is about sharing.”
“The space, with free admission, is to be open during the week (at hours to be determined) and on Saturdays, when Chelsea galleries typically get the most traffic. Mainly, Mr. Hill wants to have more of what he owns on view. “He has great things,” said the dealer Matthew Marks, from whom Mr. Hill recently purchased a Robert Gober sculpture that will permanently reside in the new gallery.”