Articles
Retrofuturism forecloses the true potential of the world to come.
Buckminster Fuller thought he had found the shape of utopia. What went wrong?
Asset managers and AI are here for the design media’s copper wire.
In New York City, real estate plays double duty, and apartments turn into art galleries.
There’s plenty still unknown about the Lucas Museum, but one thing’s for sure: It’ll look good on the screen.
The organizers behind Los Angeles’s latest Olympics run seem content with standing still.
Is a plan to restore the Sepulveda Basin the equitable climate action LA needs?
Georgia O’Keeffe: “My New Yorks,” curated Sarah Kelly Oehler and Annelise K. Madsen, was on view at the Art Institute of Chicago from June 2 to September 22, 2024.
O’Keeffe’s New Yorks did not exist in an artistic vacuum; they live within an entire tradition of experimental art about modern architecture.
Brooklyn Crime Novel by Jonathan Lethem. Ecco Press, 384 pp., $15.
Jonathan Lethem’s historical autofiction from below
Yes, Chef, curated by Zoe Lukov, and its affiliated restaurant concept, Black Caesar, are open at Water Street Projects through December 15.
Yes, Chef. Hail Caesar. Eat me. Incubate me.
Villa E: A Novel by Jane Alison. Liveright, 192 pp., $24.
It’s August 1965; Eileen Gray is eighty-seven and blind in one eye, and she’s spending a week on the French Riviera to design an extension for a house she’d built decades ago.
The Complete Guide to Combat City by Julia Schulz-Dornburg. Jovis, 156 pp.,
$40.
The world is rapidly urbanizing, and the theater of battle is urbanizing with it.
The New York Film Festival ran from September 27 to October 14 at Lincoln Center and additional venues throughout the city.
Phillips’s musical sequel to his haggardly wrought early Scorsese pastiche more aptly encompasses the existential malaise of NYFF62 than the proudest members of its main slate.
“What would happen if we foregrounded human values in the creation of our systems?”
A crucial part of the Israeli state project is about leaving Palestinians with no physical place to call home.
Think about the climate crisis long enough, and the problem appears so vast as to be unthinkable. And yet, that’s what we must do.
New York is a city of exhibitionists. Documentary filmmaker John Wilson is happy to oblige.
Where ideas hit money and materials and space itself.
If nature takes its revenge but no one is around to witness it, will it be beautiful?
The terminal’s municipal late modernism follows the romantic logic of bureaucracy.
Once a sparkling fixture of New York high society, the Plaza Hotel has lost its fizz.
Van Nuys Government Center is a stand-in for downtown democracy flung out to the suburban hinterlands.
Big money and anodyne architecture are poised to take over South Ozone Park’s legendary Aqueduct Racetrack.
The Star Wars–esque modular bathrooms have been kissed by a gentle coat of rust, from their corrugated metal facades to their tinny hand dryers.
There comes a loud, thudding crash.
Suddenly, the beaver cosplay is feeling very real.
With his lease as his leash, caged in this giant city-cum-dog park, our columnist roams the streets as a stray, guided by unseemly scents.
A self-described Renaissance man wrestles with the legacy of his former Bushwick abode.
The Tenement Museum memorializes working-class families even as it evicts them.
The higher the New York observatory experience climbs, the dumber it gets.
New York University’s John A. Paulson Center announces the triumph of a new civilization: thrusting, dismissive, cruel.
Less a menacing monument to imminent doom than a superfluous, almost decadent by-product of capitalism gone awry
306 West 142nd Street—a condo building two blocks from St. Nicholas Park—is no longer a part of my personal stomping grounds. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have beef.
