The critical voice in Roberta Smith’s head is mercifully, blessedly silent.
“I can walk into a show now and not have the first line of the review pop into my head,” said Ms. Smith, 76, who retired last month as the co-chief art critic of The New York Times.
The announcement prompted tributes on social media from fellow critics, artists, gallery owners, curators and readers, who called her “legendary,”“peerless” and “a critical model for a lifetime.” Over her 38-year career at The Times, Ms. Smith cultivated a reputation for intimate observations conveyed in accessible prose. She began her career as a freelance critic for The Times in 1986 before being hired in 1991. In 2011, she was promoted to co-chief art critic — the first woman to hold the title, which she shared with Holland Cotter.
But now, without the pressure of having to present a point of view in The Times, she’s free to do what she loves most — visit shows and galleries just to look.
“I look at shows less intently when I’m not writing about them,” she said. “That means sometimes I may not come out with a really formed opinion, because there isn’t that pressure.”
In a recent phone conversation from her Greenwich Village apartment, where she lives with her husband of 32 years, the New York magazine art critic Jerry Saltz, Ms. Smith discussed her journey to becoming a professional critic, how her taste in art has changed over the years and what it’s like being married to a fellow critic. These are edited excerpts.
How did you get started as a critic?
I began writing when I was 25 as a freelancer at Arts Magazine — which is now defunct — with an article on the painter Brice Marden. I became a critic in the same way a lot of people become critics: by immersing themselves in a subject and having enough confidence to listen to their opinions. Criticism isn’t really an academic subject. I don’t think it can be taught at school; it’s much more visceral. It happens when you’re in front of art, examining it, articulating opinions and trying to convert those opinions into clear prose.
Before joining The Times, you worked at the Museum of Modern Art, the Paula Cooper Gallery and with Donald Judd, the celebrated minimalist. How did those experiences shape your career?
All of those jobs exposed me to different people and their professions, their thinking and also some understanding about how the art world works on a very personal level. But it was writing for The Village Voice in the early 1980s that shaped me most. It gave me a very real sense of writing on deadline. It proved to me that I actually was a critic, not a fraud. That was momentous for me. I had never taken a journalism course. Editors and copy editors — especially at The Times — were my real teachers.
How has the art world, and in response, your beat, changed over the years?
When I started writing about art in 1972 at Arts Magazine, the art world was a completely different place. SoHo barely existed as an art destination; Madison Avenue and 57th Street had the main galleries. Conceptual art was dominant then, which meant an emphasis on ideas and not much on form or materials. It forced me to write more about narrative — and sometimes about everyday life — in a way that hadn’t previously been the case. There was also a tendency in the ’70s to think, well, that’s over; painting is dead; figurative sculpture is not going to be happening anymore. As time went on, those assessments proved wrong, thankfully.
How have you grown as a critic?
I think I’ve changed a great deal. At the beginning of my career, I kind of assimilated Donald Judd’s point of view — which was extremely rigorous in applying judgment. Critics need to be more flexible than artists. You have to be open to being changed and pushed into new directions by art. I don’t feel an obligation to take a strong stand on things.
My main goal has always been to point out art that people would enjoy seeing, and to show them how I saw it and enjoyed it. I think if I have any legacy, it’s teaching people how to look at art. It takes a certain kind of concentration, attention and openness.
What is it like being married to a fellow critic?
Being a critic is really lonely. Jerry made it so I wasn’t alone, and that was a huge gift. He also has really interesting instincts about art that startle me. It helps that we have different approaches to our work and to art. Basically, I stick fairly close to art objects and the experience of them, and I work within a more traditional format. For Jerry, the object is often just the starting point for a larger discussion. He’s more free-form and fluid with his writing.
Your retirement announcement was met with a cascade of tributes on social media. What was that like to see?
It stunned me. There are plenty of times when I absolutely despise my work, so I was quite taken aback. It’s been amazing.
LONDON (AP) — With a few daubs of a paintbrush, the Brontë sisters have got their dots back.
More than eight decades after it was installed, a memorial to the three 19th-century sibling novelists in London’s Westminster Abbey was amended Thursday to restore the diaereses – the two dots over the e in their surname.
The dots — which indicate that the name is pronounced “brontay” rather than “bront” — were omitted when the stone tablet commemorating Charlotte, Emily and Anne was erected in the abbey’s Poets’ Corner in October 1939, just after the outbreak of World War II.
They were restored after Brontë historian Sharon Wright, editor of the Brontë Society Gazette, raised the issue with Dean of Westminster David Hoyle. The abbey asked its stonemason to tap in the dots and its conservator to paint them.
“There’s no paper record for anyone complaining about this or mentioning this, so I just wanted to put it right, really,” Wright said. “These three Yorkshire women deserve their place here, but they also deserve to have their name spelled correctly.”
It’s believed the writers’ Irish father Patrick changed the spelling of his surname from Brunty or Prunty when he went to university in England.
Raised on the wild Yorkshire moors, all three sisters died before they were 40, leaving enduring novels including Charlotte’s “Jane Eyre,” Emily’s “Wuthering Heights” and Anne’s “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall.”
Rebecca Yorke, director of the Brontë Society, welcomed the restoration.
“As the Brontës and their work are loved and respected all over the world, it’s entirely appropriate that their name is spelled correctly on their memorial,” she said.
In a case that has sent shockwaves through the Vancouver Island art community, a local art dealer has been charged with one count of fraud over $5,000. Calvin Lucyshyn, the former operator of the now-closed Winchester Galleries in Oak Bay, faces the charge after police seized hundreds of artworks, valued in the tens of millions of dollars, from various storage sites in the Greater Victoria area.
Alleged Fraud Scheme
Police allege that Lucyshyn had been taking valuable art from members of the public under the guise of appraising or consigning the pieces for sale, only to cut off all communication with the owners. This investigation began in April 2022, when police received a complaint from an individual who had provided four paintings to Lucyshyn, including three works by renowned British Columbia artist Emily Carr, and had not received any updates on their sale.
Further investigation by the Saanich Police Department revealed that this was not an isolated incident. Detectives found other alleged victims who had similar experiences with Winchester Galleries, leading police to execute search warrants at three separate storage locations across Greater Victoria.
Massive Seizure of Artworks
In what has become one of the largest art fraud investigations in recent Canadian history, authorities seized approximately 1,100 pieces of art, including more than 600 pieces from a storage site in Saanich, over 300 in Langford, and more than 100 in Oak Bay. Some of the more valuable pieces, according to police, were estimated to be worth $85,000 each.
Lucyshyn was arrested on April 21, 2022, but was later released from custody. In May 2024, a fraud charge was formally laid against him.
Artwork Returned, but Some Remain Unclaimed
In a statement released on Monday, the Saanich Police Department confirmed that 1,050 of the seized artworks have been returned to their rightful owners. However, several pieces remain unclaimed, and police continue their efforts to track down the owners of these works.
Court Proceedings Ongoing
The criminal charge against Lucyshyn has not yet been tested in court, and he has publicly stated his intention to defend himself against any pending allegations. His next court appearance is scheduled for September 10, 2024.
Impact on the Local Art Community
The news of Lucyshyn’s alleged fraud has deeply affected Vancouver Island’s art community, particularly collectors, galleries, and artists who may have been impacted by the gallery’s operations. With high-value pieces from artists like Emily Carr involved, the case underscores the vulnerabilities that can exist in art transactions.
For many art collectors, the investigation has raised concerns about the potential for fraud in the art world, particularly when it comes to dealing with private galleries and dealers. The seizure of such a vast collection of artworks has also led to questions about the management and oversight of valuable art pieces, as well as the importance of transparency and trust in the industry.
As the case continues to unfold in court, it will likely serve as a cautionary tale for collectors and galleries alike, highlighting the need for due diligence in the sale and appraisal of high-value artworks.
While much of the seized artwork has been returned, the full scale of the alleged fraud is still being unraveled. Lucyshyn’s upcoming court appearances will be closely watched, not only by the legal community but also by the wider art world, as it navigates the fallout from one of Canada’s most significant art fraud cases in recent memory.
Art collectors and individuals who believe they may have been affected by this case are encouraged to contact the Saanich Police Department to inquire about any unclaimed pieces. Additionally, the case serves as a reminder for anyone involved in high-value art transactions to work with reputable dealers and to keep thorough documentation of all transactions.
As with any investment, whether in art or other ventures, it is crucial to be cautious and informed. Art fraud can devastate personal collections and finances, but by taking steps to verify authenticity, provenance, and the reputation of dealers, collectors can help safeguard their valuable pieces.
