Félix González-Torres / Felix Gonzalez-Torres
GONZALEZ-TORRES Félix (Guáimaro 1957 - Miami 1996), SPECTOR Nancy (Stati Uniti 1959) (Curator), New York, Guggenheim Museum, [printing: Cantz, Germany], 1995, 23,5x16 cm., hardcover with dustjacket, pp. 228, illustrated cover and catalog. Published for the exhibition "Felix Gonzalez-Torres" held at Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York from March 3 to May 10, 1995. Preface by Thomas Krens and text in English by Nancy Spector. With a bibliography and an exhibition history of the artist. Small tears on the dust jacket
GONZALEZ-TORRES Félix (Guáimaro 1957 - Miami 1996), SPECTOR Nancy (Stati Uniti 1959) (Curator), New York, Guggenheim Museum, [printing: Cantz, Germany], 1995, 23,5x16 cm., hardcover with dustjacket, pp. 228, illustrated cover and catalog. Published for the exhibition "Felix Gonzalez-Torres" held at Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York from March 3 to May 10, 1995. Preface by Thomas Krens and text in English by Nancy Spector. With a bibliography and an exhibition history of the artist. Small tears on the dust jacket
GONZALEZ-TORRES Félix (Guáimaro 1957 - Miami 1996), SPECTOR Nancy (Stati Uniti 1959) (Curator), New York, Guggenheim Museum, [printing: Cantz, Germany], 1995, 23,5x16 cm., hardcover with dustjacket, pp. 228, illustrated cover and catalog. Published for the exhibition "Felix Gonzalez-Torres" held at Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York from March 3 to May 10, 1995. Preface by Thomas Krens and text in English by Nancy Spector. With a bibliography and an exhibition history of the artist. Small tears on the dust jacket
"In Gonzalez-Torres's world, vision itself must always be queried, as it is inexorably informed by and constructed through cultural ideologies. But it is also through vision that one can reinvent the universe, infusing the most mundane objects with an undeniable poetry. For Gonzalez-Torres, two glowing light bulbs transmute into a pair of inseparable lovers, a gauze curtain gently fluttering in the breeze incarnates the memory of a departed friend, and a heap of brightly wrapped candies becomes a sensorial body.", extract from the text by Nancy Spector
