Leanne Shapton

When I was a kid, at bedtime my dad would tell my brother and me to go “up the wooden hill to see the blanket show.” Ever since then I have had a strong

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

This issue of the art newsletter comes from GoldenEye, the resort on Oracabessa Bay, Jamaica, that was built around the villa where Ian Fleming wrote most

This newsletter comes to you while I’m watching Thunder on the Hill, part of the “Douglas Sirk Noir” series currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

A dispatch from the Art Editor

On a road trip this August, I stopped at the Emily Dickinson Museum in Amherst, Massachusetts. The house she lived in for most of her life, including the

During her thousands of hours of training and her marathon open-water crossings, the American swimmer Diana Nyad sang songs in her head. She did this to

We closed our annual Fiction Issue while I was on the West Coast. Between checking layouts and getting illustration revisions, my hosts and I

This newsletter comes to you from a wild jungle: designer Rachel Comey’s annual sample sale. For a certain New York fashion set, this is a legendary event: past sales have featured a live DJ, Jell-O shots and childcare, and enormous markdowns on racks upon racks of beautiful dresses, blouses, snoods, and mules. (In 2022 Comey designed a collectionbased on the Review’s covers.) It is a scene. Shoppers in various states of undress and carrying enormous blue Ikea bags flick voraciously through the…

This is our twentieth art newsletter, which is coming to you from my living room, where I’m watching the 148th annual Westminster Kennel Club dog show on my computer. I have a cat, Biscuit, who last appeared in our third art newsletter, but I also love and grew up with dogs. One of my favorite assignments was illustrating Review contributor Cathleen Schine’s 2007 novel The New Yorkers, for which I made hundreds of drawings of dogs. I dream of one day having a lurcher, my favorite breed. Thi…

I’ve had the pleasure of working with the artist Henning Wagenbreth for a few decades now, having been introduced to his work through a group of German illustrators and designers who had moved to New York in the 1990s. There was a small apartment in Greenpoint, dubbed “The German Embassy,” where recent design and art school graduates from Berlin, Hamburg, Munich, and other German cities would stay until they found more permanent housing. They’d share their friends’ work, and I first saw Henning’…

A dispatch from the Art Editor

As a kid in Canada, I’d read and reread The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats. I think it may have been responsible for why I live in New York now. The book’s vision of a city winter—snow-covered brownstones and streets, stoops and vacant lots—instilled in small me a romantic vision of Gotham that never left. After a three-inch snowfall in Manhattan, my daughter, along with the rest of the city’s kids, had a snow day this week—and this newsletter comes after a brief snowball fight using meager snowba…

This sixteenth edition of the art newsletter comes to you from snowy Berlin, where I spent three nights this month. I landed to a fresh snowfall and