The title Entropvisions is in homage to my mother, the poet and art critic, Harriet Zinnes. In 1990 New Directions published a collection of her poems titled Entropisms, a word she made-up combining entropy - the tendency toward disorder - and tropism - the growth towards or away from a stimulus. Similarly, my short reviews combine entropy and tropism by suggesting growth towards a vision of art from the chaos of the art world. Through the back door, my title also pays homage to my physicist father, Irving Zinnes, whose long discussions with my mom got her thinking about entropy and tropism in the first place.

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June Leaf at NYU's Grey Art Museum
2025.11.4
The current June Leaf exhibition at NYU’s Grey Art Museum, up through Dec. 13, is a must-see show. With 150 pieces, representing works on paper, sculptures, paintings, collages and constructions throughout her 75-year career, we get a glimpse of the infinite creativity that marks this artist’s work. From her raucous 1968 mixed-media mural-size tableau of NYC’s street characters, through to her death at age 94 in 2024, we see an artist constantly digging deeper into her unconscious, finding quiet humor within warmth and a humanistic awe of our world. It’s impossible to categorize Leaf’s work, but some consistent themes do recur, like what it is to be a woman today, particularly within the magnetic relationships between men and women, the complex interconnections we have with our mechanized world, and the magic of nature. An early work, The Vermeer Box, depicts Man as Threat, but after her 1975 marriage to photographer/filmmaker Robert Frank, and later moving with him to an isolated fishing village in Nova Scotia, she represents their togetherness with such affection that – and this is only conjecture – her skeptical attitudes toward men seem to morph into the beautiful possibilities of romance. Leaf was a poet and documentarian, an improvisational dreamer and technical expert, a social commentator and personal diarist, but fundamentally, she was an inventor, and most wonderful of all are her inventive twisted sheets of metal cut to resemble people interacting with found objects. Is the sewing machine a metaphor for women’s work, a symbol of the artist creating, or the actual conduit of life emerging as if from air? Leaf’s pieces seem to go beyond art. They seem to emerge from some hidden place, moving – always moving – through our prosaic world into the inner unconscious of life itself. On a charcoal from 2020, she writes, “The secret is not drawing but DANCE,” and so it is that ultimately the dance of life is her concern, that art miraculously emerges from life’s movements. In a video made shortly before she died, Leaf says she was always escaping her rigid, conservative mother. And escape she definitely did.

@nyugrey

1976

2022

2020

2020

2010-11

2008

2001

2001, detail of previous image

1980

1980, photo by Robert Frank,

with June's hand

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1976

1975

1975

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1968

1968

1966

1966, detail of previous image

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