Simon Rattle's last year as the head of the Berlin Philharmonic—he has been conducting the orchestra to great acclaim since 2002—is the last chance to see his energetic conducting style at work in the orchestra's acoustically superb concert hall.

The Museum of Modern Art's retrospective focuses on Stephen Shore's photographs of hyper-quotidian America, our stalest shades of red, white, and blue.

An outsider artist is a figure who makes a body of work while operating in relative isolation, unaware of, or indifferent to, developments in the work of professional artists...someone who resolutely, and perhaps eccentrically, wants to live and work on her or his own terms.

This celebration of the seventieth anniversary of Magnum Photos, which appeared last year at the International Center of Photography in New York and now travels to Rome, showcases the work of seventy of the legendary agency's most influential photographers.

To criticize Araki’s photos—naked women pissing into umbrellas at a live sex show, women with flowers stuck into their vaginas, women in schoolgirl uniforms suspended in bondage, and so on—for being pornographic, vulgar, or obscene, is rather to miss the point.

The gripping and dramatic show “All Too Human: Bacon, Freud and a Century of Painting Life” merits its title: it is “all too human” in the tender, painful works that form its core.

A major exhibition at the Tate illustrates the competing and overlapping streams of painterly obsession in London in the second half of the twentieth century. It shows us how, in their different ways, painters such as Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud, Leon Kossoff and Frank Auerbach, R.B. Kitaj, and Paula Rego redefined realism.

Throughout the 1920s in Paris, the painter Tsuguharu Foujita cut an arresting figure: a Japanese modernist as willing to trade on his own foreignness as he was to blend into his Parisian surroundings

The English painter Eric Ravilious expressed his romanticism in naturalistic watercolors, in a style almost antithetical to the imaginary landscapes and aristocratic fêtes champêtres of Rex Whistler—who, like Ravilious, served in uniform in World War II.

A new exhibition at the Ashmolean gives an education in the work produced by the precisionist artists of the 1920s through the 1940s, who used sharp, well-defined lines and striking applications of pigment to master the anxieties and ambivalences associated with modern life.

For ten years, the Aftermath Project—founded by the documentary photographer Sara Terry—has supported work by new and established photojournalists covering the aftermath of conflict and war. The project's anniversary show, and its accompanying book, showcase the work of more than fifty photographers working around the world.

The show at the Drawing Center, ably curated by Claire Gilman, restrained though it is by the modest size of the space, is a robust sampling of the last thirty-five years of Winters’s career.

An exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum gives a sprawling overview of twenty-five intensely productive years in Latin American feminist art, gathering the work of 123 artists from fifteen countries who ranged across video, photography, installation and performance art, painting, film, sculpture, and dance.

The masks of the Yup’ik, an indigenous people related to the Inuit, seem to float off the dark blue walls where they hang. The connection between the Surrealists’ productions and the Yup’ik artefacts in the installation is never direct: they seem, rather, to have drifted together naturally.

May brings us revivals of Derek Jarman's delirious portrait of Edward II and Andy Warhol's legendary The Chelsea Girls; restorations from the early years of Fox Film Corporation; a survey of films from and about downtown New York in the 1980s; and a program of militant French cinema from and about May '68.

The Syrian teacher Marwan Hisham met the artist Molly Crabapple on Twitter while he was in Raqqa and she was in New York. He would send her photographs taken with a smartphone begged from a friend, which she would transform into paintings and drawings. It was, as he puts it, an 'art crime' for which he would probably have been executed had he been discovered.

Together, the sunlit and vache paintings present one of the most enduring mysteries—and the greatest curatorial challenge—of a career devoted to intellectual puzzles, visual gags, and what Magritte described as his “systematic search for disturbing poetic effects.”

Poet Henri Cole talks to editor Sasha Weiss about his new book.