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Amy Sillman: Faux Pas: Selected Writings and Drawings
“Sillman is in a thin crowd (with, let’s say, Andrea Fraser, Hito Steyerl, Matias Faldbakken, David Salle) of artists who can really write. The evidence is in Faux Pas ... her writings display the same good humor and intelligence of her best paintings.” –Jason Farago, New York Times This new edition of Faux Pas , the acclaimed collection of writings by Amy Sillman, comes as an expanded edition, with the addition of new essays, including recent texts on Paul Cézanne, Carolee Schneemann, Elizabeth Murray and Louise Fishman. The previously unpublished text from a lecture on drawing complements Sillman’s views on color and shape. New drawings from 2020–22 include a selection of works on paper that were part of the artist’s installation at the 59th International Venice Biennale, The Milk of Dreams , in 2022.
Since the 1970s, Sillman―a beloved and key figure of the New York art scene―has developed a singular body of work that includes large-scale gestural paintings blending abstraction with representation, as well as zines and iPad animations.
Over the past decade, Sillman has also produced stimulating essays on the practice of art or the work of other for example, reevaluating the work of the abstract expressionists with a queer eye; elaborating on the role of awkwardness and the body in the artistic process; and discussing in depth the role and meanings of color and shape. Featuring a foreword by Lynne Tillman, Faux Pas gathers a significant selection of Sillman’s essays, reviews and lectures, accompanied by drawings, most of them made specially for the book.
Faux Pas aims at revealing the coherence and originality of Sillman’s reflection, as she addresses the possibilities of art today, favoring excess over good taste, wrestling over dandyism, forms over symbols, with as much critical sense as humor.
Based in New York City, Amy Sillman (born 1955) is an artist whose work consistently combines the visceral with the intellectual. She began to study painting in the 1970s at the School of Visual Arts and she received her MFA from Bard College in 1995. Her work has been exhibited internationally, including at the Whitney Biennial in 2014 and the Venice Biennale in 2022; her writing has appeared in Bookforum and Artforum , among other publications. She is currently represented by Gladstone Gallery, New York.
Since the 1970s, Sillman―a beloved and key figure of the New York art scene―has developed a singular body of work that includes large-scale gestural paintings blending abstraction with representation, as well as zines and iPad animations.
Over the past decade, Sillman has also produced stimulating essays on the practice of art or the work of other for example, reevaluating the work of the abstract expressionists with a queer eye; elaborating on the role of awkwardness and the body in the artistic process; and discussing in depth the role and meanings of color and shape. Featuring a foreword by Lynne Tillman, Faux Pas gathers a significant selection of Sillman’s essays, reviews and lectures, accompanied by drawings, most of them made specially for the book.
Faux Pas aims at revealing the coherence and originality of Sillman’s reflection, as she addresses the possibilities of art today, favoring excess over good taste, wrestling over dandyism, forms over symbols, with as much critical sense as humor.
Based in New York City, Amy Sillman (born 1955) is an artist whose work consistently combines the visceral with the intellectual. She began to study painting in the 1970s at the School of Visual Arts and she received her MFA from Bard College in 1995. Her work has been exhibited internationally, including at the Whitney Biennial in 2014 and the Venice Biennale in 2022; her writing has appeared in Bookforum and Artforum , among other publications. She is currently represented by Gladstone Gallery, New York.
- GenresArt
297 pages, Paperback
First published January 3, 2023
25 people are currently reading
174 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
May 5, 2023
There's some interesting writing here but this book really reminded me of how myopic, white and self serving the New York art world is. Despite being gay herself, much of the writing reads as if appealing to establishment straight, cis, małe contexts. However the first interview with Sillman herself was a place where I felt alternative ways of being and living shone through (she described her autobiographic history a little). This was at odds with essays that celebrated affect, subjectivity and occasionally, the every day, but where Sillman kept her ironic distance.
The essays I enjoyed the most were where Sillman was grappling with her own modernist influences, and the painting /drawing divide. I wish there were more drawings and zine excerpts to give us a window into Sillman's humour.
The essays I enjoyed the most were where Sillman was grappling with her own modernist influences, and the painting /drawing divide. I wish there were more drawings and zine excerpts to give us a window into Sillman's humour.
May 11, 2024
Fussing over shapes, always!!!!
You have to trust that a timely book will arrive apropos to the scribbles you try to wrestle with.
Prescient for Sillman’s elegant strokes on examining our insistence to let forms emerge, futile act of metabolizing through painting and drawing the shapes that could hold our discontent, and that beautiful admission that shit happens, too.
And a reminder to let change emerge
You have to trust that a timely book will arrive apropos to the scribbles you try to wrestle with.
Prescient for Sillman’s elegant strokes on examining our insistence to let forms emerge, futile act of metabolizing through painting and drawing the shapes that could hold our discontent, and that beautiful admission that shit happens, too.
And a reminder to let change emerge
Read
May 6, 2025Art and love are two distinct yet eternally intertwined phenomena that always need one another. To understand the essence of their connection, we must first grasp what art is, and what love is.
Art is self-expression - a human perception of reality, formed from the outside in, and then from the inside out. For reality left alone is nothing without human vision. Love, on the other hand, is a grounding force - a way of connecting with one another, the universal pull that brings us together. Fortunately, both are accompanied by self-reflection.
Self-discovery begins the moment the brush touches the canvas or the pen meets the page. Self-awareness directed at a specific subject is not enough; it demands expression. And the most powerful expression is born from love-nourished thought.
The connection between art and love has indeed been intertwined throughout history — and rightly so. Without that bond, we would have never come this far. A painting that becomes a projection of human vision and emotion is inspired by love. This will always be the fundamental starting point of art. From this, we can conclude that every human being has the potential to be an artist and to build a bridge that leads out into the world.
Yet art and love are more than mere channels of dissemination or forms of self-expression. The moment a person transfers their reality onto a canvas, they reshape the world. A chain of values is created. A new language is born. And if all this is done in the way that the blend of love and artistry demands, then both truth and reality coexist within the work.
It’s no surprise, then, that painting - like literature - maintains its relevance and potential, even in a fast-changing, dynamic time like ours. In fact, today it remains one of the most vital paths to survival and clarity. It prevents us from becoming lost in the harsh momentum of modern life and helps preserve our perception and feeling of what is real.
Since the 1960s, when traditional artistic approaches and experiences began to dissolve, the boundaries of art became less defined. People became more free, more fluid. They embraced multimedia practices and installation-based art. Painting expanded beyond the borders of the canvas. Artists began to experiment with different media and even buildings — which, for a short while, posed a challenge to painting.
In today’s simplified world, people have yearned for more visible ways to express their inner realities. Yet in doing so, we’ve disrupted the boundaries we once set for ourselves - the very boundaries that painting requires. This doesn’t mean limiting ourselves. On the contrary: within these confines, the content can expand or contract, carrying the fullness of visible truth - the entire world. The frame isn’t something to be broken; it is a boundary within which, if you succeed in embedding a story nourished by love, it will stretch, contain everything, live through your roots, and grow countless branches. These branches will naturally invite every eye to establish a connection - intellectually and spiritually.
This in itself creates a challenge for the viewer - a desire to become involved in the work and bring it to life in their own way, through both heart and mind.
Painting, in this case, remains paramount - not because of sociological factors or commercial advantages, like low production costs or high market value. Its power lies in its permanence - its place as the highest form of expression.
You can fall in love with a canvas. You can lose yourself in Velázquez’s world, which has become your own. You can love Rothko’s squares because they remind you of Velázquez. But you cannot fall in love with an installation. Sure, you may like it. But due to its greatest limitation -its lack of boundaries - it immediately demands explanation from the viewer, a preface from the creator, because it doesn’t create the kind of bond where words become unnecessary.
You may love a performance and feel awakened by it. It may provoke deep thought. But sadly, once it ends, it becomes a thing of the past. You’ll love it only as long as it lives in memory - and even then, it can only be replicated, not relived.
This doesn’t happen with painting. A painting is created once and remains forever. Its reality never becomes outdated. Nothing exactly like it can ever be created again, and therefore, it can never become boring.
Every true work of art is created with love - because you are bringing to life a moment that already exists in the world. And so it should be. A person should love their world. And love doesn’t mean just delight or admiration. That would be seeing only a part of the whole. Here, we’re talking about all-encompassing love.
Today, as in the past, people continue to visit museums. They return to love - a love so pure and exalted, framed within four boundaries.
Reading Amy Sillman’s work is what made all of this crystal clear for me. Her writing and thinking don’t just comment on painting - they embody it. Her reflections gave me the language, the insight, and the courage to see painting and love not just as practices, but as ways of being. That’s why her book is more than worth reading - it’s necessary.
Art is self-expression - a human perception of reality, formed from the outside in, and then from the inside out. For reality left alone is nothing without human vision. Love, on the other hand, is a grounding force - a way of connecting with one another, the universal pull that brings us together. Fortunately, both are accompanied by self-reflection.
Self-discovery begins the moment the brush touches the canvas or the pen meets the page. Self-awareness directed at a specific subject is not enough; it demands expression. And the most powerful expression is born from love-nourished thought.
The connection between art and love has indeed been intertwined throughout history — and rightly so. Without that bond, we would have never come this far. A painting that becomes a projection of human vision and emotion is inspired by love. This will always be the fundamental starting point of art. From this, we can conclude that every human being has the potential to be an artist and to build a bridge that leads out into the world.
Yet art and love are more than mere channels of dissemination or forms of self-expression. The moment a person transfers their reality onto a canvas, they reshape the world. A chain of values is created. A new language is born. And if all this is done in the way that the blend of love and artistry demands, then both truth and reality coexist within the work.
It’s no surprise, then, that painting - like literature - maintains its relevance and potential, even in a fast-changing, dynamic time like ours. In fact, today it remains one of the most vital paths to survival and clarity. It prevents us from becoming lost in the harsh momentum of modern life and helps preserve our perception and feeling of what is real.
Since the 1960s, when traditional artistic approaches and experiences began to dissolve, the boundaries of art became less defined. People became more free, more fluid. They embraced multimedia practices and installation-based art. Painting expanded beyond the borders of the canvas. Artists began to experiment with different media and even buildings — which, for a short while, posed a challenge to painting.
In today’s simplified world, people have yearned for more visible ways to express their inner realities. Yet in doing so, we’ve disrupted the boundaries we once set for ourselves - the very boundaries that painting requires. This doesn’t mean limiting ourselves. On the contrary: within these confines, the content can expand or contract, carrying the fullness of visible truth - the entire world. The frame isn’t something to be broken; it is a boundary within which, if you succeed in embedding a story nourished by love, it will stretch, contain everything, live through your roots, and grow countless branches. These branches will naturally invite every eye to establish a connection - intellectually and spiritually.
This in itself creates a challenge for the viewer - a desire to become involved in the work and bring it to life in their own way, through both heart and mind.
Painting, in this case, remains paramount - not because of sociological factors or commercial advantages, like low production costs or high market value. Its power lies in its permanence - its place as the highest form of expression.
You can fall in love with a canvas. You can lose yourself in Velázquez’s world, which has become your own. You can love Rothko’s squares because they remind you of Velázquez. But you cannot fall in love with an installation. Sure, you may like it. But due to its greatest limitation -its lack of boundaries - it immediately demands explanation from the viewer, a preface from the creator, because it doesn’t create the kind of bond where words become unnecessary.
You may love a performance and feel awakened by it. It may provoke deep thought. But sadly, once it ends, it becomes a thing of the past. You’ll love it only as long as it lives in memory - and even then, it can only be replicated, not relived.
This doesn’t happen with painting. A painting is created once and remains forever. Its reality never becomes outdated. Nothing exactly like it can ever be created again, and therefore, it can never become boring.
Every true work of art is created with love - because you are bringing to life a moment that already exists in the world. And so it should be. A person should love their world. And love doesn’t mean just delight or admiration. That would be seeing only a part of the whole. Here, we’re talking about all-encompassing love.
Today, as in the past, people continue to visit museums. They return to love - a love so pure and exalted, framed within four boundaries.
Reading Amy Sillman’s work is what made all of this crystal clear for me. Her writing and thinking don’t just comment on painting - they embody it. Her reflections gave me the language, the insight, and the courage to see painting and love not just as practices, but as ways of being. That’s why her book is more than worth reading - it’s necessary.
Read
December 28, 2024Mi ci è voluto un attimo per decidere come commentare questa raccolta di saggi. Come ogni altra volta in cui mi sono trovata nella posizione di parlare di qualcosa di denso, mi sono un attimo bloccata a riflettere su cosa mi è piaciuto o se sento la pressione di dire che mi è piaciuto perché sarebbe assurdo dire il contrario.
Ci sono alcuni saggi che ho apprezzato moltissimo. Ogni volta che Sillman si ferma a parlare del colore e delle forme è impossibile non continuare a leggere ed esserne catturati – ha un modo di scrivere che è affascinante e da cui è impossibile staccarsi, tanto avverti quanto sia appassionata di questi temi. Il primo saggio sul colore sarebbe da far leggere nelle accademie artistiche o a chiunque ha intenzione di lavorare nel mondo dell’arte tanto è veritiero e interessante. Allo stesso tempo, ogni volta che parlava di artisti che piacciono anche a me e che conosco bene – vedasi Delacroix o Cezanne – mi sono trovata incantata e ho riso per il modo scanzonato che ha di rivolgersi a loro, come se non le importasse di ciò che hanno fatto e se fossero suoi amici di vecchia data.
Tuttavia, ho faticato a seguirla quando iniziava a parlare della New York degli anni ’70 o si focalizzava su artisti che (mea culpa) non conosco. Ho trovato le sue parole meno accessibili e più confuse – probabilmente appunto per la mancanza di un contesto purtroppo necessario – ed è per questo che la lettura è stata più lunga di quanto avessi previsto.
Di certo interessante. Non so se lo consiglierei a chiunque – è comunque un lavoro molto di nicchia –, ma ha il suo fascino.
Ci sono alcuni saggi che ho apprezzato moltissimo. Ogni volta che Sillman si ferma a parlare del colore e delle forme è impossibile non continuare a leggere ed esserne catturati – ha un modo di scrivere che è affascinante e da cui è impossibile staccarsi, tanto avverti quanto sia appassionata di questi temi. Il primo saggio sul colore sarebbe da far leggere nelle accademie artistiche o a chiunque ha intenzione di lavorare nel mondo dell’arte tanto è veritiero e interessante. Allo stesso tempo, ogni volta che parlava di artisti che piacciono anche a me e che conosco bene – vedasi Delacroix o Cezanne – mi sono trovata incantata e ho riso per il modo scanzonato che ha di rivolgersi a loro, come se non le importasse di ciò che hanno fatto e se fossero suoi amici di vecchia data.
Tuttavia, ho faticato a seguirla quando iniziava a parlare della New York degli anni ’70 o si focalizzava su artisti che (mea culpa) non conosco. Ho trovato le sue parole meno accessibili e più confuse – probabilmente appunto per la mancanza di un contesto purtroppo necessario – ed è per questo che la lettura è stata più lunga di quanto avessi previsto.
Di certo interessante. Non so se lo consiglierei a chiunque – è comunque un lavoro molto di nicchia –, ma ha il suo fascino.
January 26, 2025
Ahh! This book is so great and if I could give it a 4.5 I would.
Sillman offers so much from this book. As a non-painter coming into these texts as a printmaker, I learned so much about painting, it’s weird and messy syntax, and some contextual insights to painters in the 70s/80s.
Best essays in the book are “AbEx and Disco Balls…”, “Shit Happens: Notes on Awkwardness”, and “Some Thoughts on John Chamberlain.”
My only critique is that a few of the shorter essays feel like space fillers. I also am interested in hearing about Sillman’s relationship to printmaking, which is not mentioned or explored at all.
Overall, this is a must read (IMO) for beginning painters or artists working in abstraction.
Sillman offers so much from this book. As a non-painter coming into these texts as a printmaker, I learned so much about painting, it’s weird and messy syntax, and some contextual insights to painters in the 70s/80s.
Best essays in the book are “AbEx and Disco Balls…”, “Shit Happens: Notes on Awkwardness”, and “Some Thoughts on John Chamberlain.”
My only critique is that a few of the shorter essays feel like space fillers. I also am interested in hearing about Sillman’s relationship to printmaking, which is not mentioned or explored at all.
Overall, this is a must read (IMO) for beginning painters or artists working in abstraction.
December 5, 2025
I absolutely live for this book, this is so amazing, the pages are now full of marks and lines and I would read it again and again. I cannot get over this book. It is art theory, but never boring, very direct, straight from the heart, open. Read the book from the library, knew I was holding gold and bought it so I could go all the way with a pencil. Huge recommendation for all art students out there!!!
September 18, 2024
Wonderful - written with heart, intelligence, humour and generosity. I don't think Sillman would mind me drawing in this book as I read it, or underlining key words and terms that tumble effortlessly onto the page. So much like a conversation with someone who really understands how to talk about the experience of making paintings and being a "draw-er." Definitely one for artists 💜
January 4, 2025
Some of the very best art writing I’ve ever dug into. The essay on John Chamberlain might truly be the best thing I’ve ever read about art, and watching her connect Schneemann & Cézanne is exhilarating.
August 17, 2025
I really enjoyed reading her writing on painting and drawing itself. Some of the writing on other painters was a little lost on me. I was trying to follow the context and their style which was difficult, but as a plus I also found myself looking up the artists she mentioned.
August 28, 2024
No one writes about painting like Amy Sillman.
April 15, 2025
most generative, instructive, galvanizing. dont want to put on my shelf because i loathe to look away
December 29, 2025
Amy sillman is such gem and this operates in such a messy relaxed way in which more books talking about contemporary art were like
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews