PUBLISHER BIO
Hol is an independent publisher dedicated to publishing and promoting great writing on visual art. Art criticism and history, artist texts and biographies, even poetry and fiction -- if it's about visual art, we're interested!Hol Art Books
United States
TABLE TALK
“Thrilled to be up and running on Book Glutton. With many more great books on art on tap for the coming months!
—Hol Art Books, 794 days ago
PUBLIC NOTES
RECENTLY ADDED TO THE CATALOG
Letters on Landscape Photography
“Dear Blank.—As these letters are to be published, I must call you Blank, your name as yet not having any interest for photographers. But we may be permitted to hope the time will come when your true appellation will be that of a shining light in the Art which has light for its source.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Thoughts on Landscape: Collected Writings and Interviews
“Other than a brief period of interest in high school and
subsequent casual snapshooting, I didn’t have anything to
do with photography until my third year of graduate work in
English literature (1966–67), when my antipathy to the written
word finally undermined my pretensions to scholarship. I
bought a camera, and I began to look at photographs seriously
for the first time.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Whistler As I Knew Him
“The cry of Whistler’s life was, “Save me from my friends!” If
only he could hear them now, the cry, I feel sure, would be still
more terrible. The understudies fall sadly short. His friends are
foolishly, though no doubt all unwittingly, raising up a cloud
behind which the real Whistler is obscured, and I feel that it is
only fair to his memory to try and cleanse the atmosphere that
is gathering round about him.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Venus
“Modelled by the sea, which is the reservoir of all the forces, you enchant us and you sway us by that grace and by that calm which strength alone possesses, and you bestow on us your serenity.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Nostalgia's Thread: Ten Poems on Norman Rockwell Paintings
“You stand aghast in your pajamas, just a boy / of six or seven, your feet cold even on the carpeted floor, / your back turned to your father’s dresser, the one / on top of which each night he places the mysterious / contents of his trouser pockets, the loose change and keys / and lucky silver dollar and other things you think / might offer clues to the world of work he goes to / when he leaves the house at dawn five mornings a week.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Museum Legs
“Several years ago, when I was new to London, I met friends,
and friends of friends, to see an art exhibition. Our host was
an affable and inviting entrepreneur with a surprising long suit
in art history. With every introduction he seemed, more and
more, to have assembled a classic group of chronic overachievers—
exuberant learners who had never met a test that didn’t
like them or a grandmother they couldn’t charm. Everyone
was full of boundless enthusiasm, professed art admirers if
not aficionados.
Two hours and twenty dollars later, we left dejected and very
little the wiser, one person complaining of “museum legs” ...
Monday, March 22, 2010
Documents of the 1913 Armory Show
“When the Association of American Painters and
Sculptors was formed in the early part of 1912
there was some discussion as to the sort of exhibition
which it should organize.
Monday, March 22, 2010
