Jim Dine

Jim Dine's poems are the voices between his paintings, the questions between his drawings, the whispers and shouts between his sculptures: an unceasing, probing flow that augments and energises his visual work. Dine writes through a process of collage, arranging and re-arranging fragments as they come to him, noting them on scraps of paper, on the studio wall, even (a...

Like most of us, Jim Dine went into self-isolation in March 2020 following the Covid-19 lockdown. Unlike most of us, he turned these three months into a crucible of creativity and has now recorded his experiences in book form. Dine quickly settled into a new daily rhythm: his studio in Montrouge became a living as well as a working space—"I...

In Jim Dine's bluntly honest words, Electrolyte in Blue is a "long hate poem" about "the evil in our now small world and those who unleashed it," exploring themes of anti-Semitism, racism, climate change, as well as the world leaders he condemns, strong among them Donald Trump. Dine's fury and disappointment are clear, yet his vision is not merely bleak....

Renowned for his depictions of self, which early in his career were often purely symbolic—most famously in the form of a bathrobe or a set of tools—Jim Dine reveals in Last Year's Forgotten Harvest another portrait of sorts, providing the viewer both with insight into his deep commitment to drawing and to the individuals in his orbit who have helped...

Since the mid-sixties when Jim Dine began writing poems "full force" (his own words), they have formed a crucial, if subtle, thread between the diverse visual media in which he works: the painting and drawing, the print-making (in all its forms), the sculpture. Often written in the studio itself (even on its walls), his poems come into being through the...

When I was born, I came home to my grandfather's house. His name was Morris Cohen. He was my mother's father. I lived with him for three years until my parents built a small little house and we moved away. But from the time I was born until he died when I was nineteen, I either spoke to him or...

This book explores the uncompromising processes of autobiographical excavation at the heart of Jim Dine's art today. Here his focus lies on three self-reflective series from the past three years, each in a different medium. In the self-portraits of Drawing the Minutes, Dine less draws with pencil on paper than carves into it, feverishly erasing and redrawing to create a...

With its fairy-tale yet matter-of-fact title, Grace and Beauty reveals Jim Dine's unquenchable enthusiasm for re-imagining his iconic personal motifs—here the Classical torso, hearts and tools—in experimental combinations of media. The book contains his most recent works, all from 2022: mixed-media assemblages, and monumental bronze and stainless-steel sculptures—"an army of sculptures: flowers, machines, and primitive skulls at once"—which he often...

This book is literally Jim Dine's letter to his "troops," a confessional address to the people he has collaborated with, to his friends and family. Consisting of a long fluid poem and 18 colour linocut portraits of those closest to Dine, the book explores his emotions and thoughts including childhood memories, reflections on his present artistic practice ("This week I...