Laura Hutson Hunter

Matty Matheson doesn’t have to tell you that Matty Matheson: Soups, Salads, Sandwiches isn’t your typical cookbook. You’ll know just by looking at it. The charismatic chef, restaurateur and actor (he consistently steals scenes as Neil Fak in the FX series The Bear) is dressed down in a worn-to-the-point-of-translucency Grateful Dead T-shirt on the book’s cover, tattoos scattered across every bit of skin up to his slicked-back yet still rumpled hair. The simple bowl of tomato soup in front of him looks practically conformist by comparison, and shows that the unfussy nature of his cooking is a byproduct of authentically good taste, not pretension. Matheson seems incapable of faking it, and his audience loves him for it. This isn’t his first cookbook—in fact, it’s his third—but by limiting recipes to three of the most user-friendly, indispensable meals, this one might become his most popular. The section on soups includes more ways to make the dish than I knew existed, including a fish stew called cioppino and a Scottish soup called Cullen skink. (“This soup should make you feel good, like you’re the one last remaining Highlander,” writes Matheson. “You’ve cut everyone’s head off, and you can finally just live your life.”) There are various chowders, phos and vichyssoises, but it’s simple stuff like Matheson’s corn maple Parmesan soup, which is made in a blender with frozen corn, that really highlights his enthusiasm for no-frills tasty food.

Matty Matheson’s new cookbook highlights the chef’s (and The Bear actor’s) unfussy nature and enthusiasm for no-frills tasty food.

If you read only one photo book in your lifetime, let it be Magnum America: The United States. An epic collection of images from the prestigious photography cooperative Magnum Photos, Magnum America combines more than 600 captivating images from its collection into 472 pages, and each of them is a hit. The weighty tome is organized by decades, and flipping through any given section is like watching history pass before your eyes. The 1940s includes iconic portraits of figures like Albert Einstein and Salvador Dali, important photojournalism like W. Eugene Smith’s shot of President Truman holding up a newspaper emblazoned with the headline “Dewey Defeats Truman,” and a one-two punch of powerful works by Henri Cartier-Bresson: a threesome of young people on a Coney Island beach followed by a hanging dummy advertising used cars in Jackson, Mississippi. It’s the juxtaposition of the images that gives the book its most powerful resonance. Disturbing war photography is followed by documents of family get-togethers and athletes in moments of victory. Special sections devoted to particularly noteworthy collections, like Susan Meiselas’ 1970s Carnival Strippers portraits and Jim Goldberg’s mid-’90s study of runaway teens, Raised by Wolves, provide crash courses in essential works. There are also sections dedicated to multiple photographers working on the same subject, like the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s and the 9/11 attacks. There is no better introduction to American postwar history than the photographs included in this book. What’s more is that there may be no better introduction to the history of photography, either.

 

Flipping through any given section of the exceptional photography tome Magnum America is like watching history pass before your eyes.

Josh Sims’ Icons of Style: In 100 Garments is like a visual encyclopedia of every piece of clothing that matters, from mini skirts and leather jackets to blazers and T-shirts. Along with a brief summary that contextualizes the garment in both history and popular culture, a slew of visual components accompany each entry. For the section called The Slip, a paparazzi photo of Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell in silver slip dresses is positioned next to a concert photo of a slip-clad Courtney Love. Together, the photos tell a story of how glamour and grunge intersected and diverged. The entry for sweatshirts is among the book’s most multifaceted: An image of a young Ronald Reagan is followed by a shot of Wu-Tang Clan’s U-God wearing a hoodie, his arm raised in a gesture of triumph that’s mirrored by Sylvester Stallone in a film still from Rocky. These three seemingly opposite figures are seen here united—in fashion, at least. Icons of Style also has wardrobe inspo for miles: photos of Soul Train dancers, Queen Elizabeth II and Jean Seberg appear alongside shots from 1983’s The Outsiders and 2011’s Drive. You’d be hard-pressed to come up with a more complete history of everyday style.

You’d be hard-pressed to come up with a more complete history of everyday fashion than Josh Sims’ Icons of Style.

Stephen Ellcock has been described as an “image alchemist,” which is a term that may sound vague or even nonsensical until you thumb through his tightly focused treasuries of esoteric imagery. Then, the term makes perfect sense. Following The Cosmic Dance and Underworlds, Elements: Chaos, Order and the Five Elemental Forces is the third title in Ellcock’s trilogy of books that explore the natural world. Using the ancient Greek categorization of the five natural elements—air, fire, earth, water and celestial aether—as a springboard, Ellcock has compiled a cabinet of curiosities out of images from across the globe, from ancient to contemporary times. It’s a vast assortment that maintains a singular vision: that elemental forces are the cornerstone of all existence. As Ellcock writes in the book’s introduction, “the five classical elements remain universal symbols, omnipresent archetypes embedded deep within the collective unconscious and the popular imagination.” A photograph of the sea by artist Wolfgang Tillmans makes a new kind of sense when viewed in proximity to Eugene Delacroix’s 1853 painting Christ Asleep During the Tempest. Illustrations from a 17th-century Japanese fireworks catalog take on a different meaning when paired with an 18th-century Indian painting of women lighting fireworks during Diwali, and offer another kind of insight when positioned next to an 1887 photograph of a building on fire. Elements truly is visual alchemy, and will be a treat for anyone who is interested in the intersection of art, science, religion and culture.

Stephen Ellcock returns with his signature visual alchemy in a compendium of images related to the elements of the natural world.
STARRED REVIEW
November 27, 2024

4 gift-worthy art books bound to inspire

Get inside the mind of an artist, revisit Manet and celebrate queer life in some of 2024’s best art and photography books.
Share this Article:

The illuminating Luncheons on the Grass asks 30 artists to create new works inspired by Manet’s eponymous masterpiece.

The illuminating Luncheons on the Grass asks 30 artists to create new works inspired by Manet’s eponymous masterpiece.

Jonathan D. Katz’s About Face celebrates the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising with deep scholarship and thrilling artworks.

Jonathan D. Katz’s About Face celebrates the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising with deep scholarship and thrilling artworks.

Casa Susanna is a sumptuous volume of photography that chronicles a midcentury trans enclave.

Casa Susanna is a sumptuous volume of photography that chronicles a midcentury trans enclave.

The Work of Art is a visionary compendium of ephemera that makes visible the bridge between idea and artwork.

The Work of Art is a visionary compendium of ephemera that makes visible the bridge between idea and artwork.

Get BookPage in your inbox

Sign up to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres every Tuesday. 

Recent Features

Get inside the mind of an artist, revisit Manet and celebrate queer life in some of 2024’s best art and photography books.

If you’ve ever been curious about how an idea turns into a piece of art, you’ll love The Work of Art: How Something Comes From Nothing. This visionary book’s first two pages lay out its thesis in surprisingly simple terms. First, there’s a sketch that looks like little more than a physician’s signature at the bottom of a prescription pad. Turn the page and you’ll see what that doodle became: the famous Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain. But how exactly did Frank Gehry’s messy sketch become the architectural masterpiece? That’s the process writer Adam Moss is concerned with; the “work” in his book’s title is a verb. Moss has been the editor of New York magazine and the New York Times Magazine, and his love for conversational, witty storytelling is clear here. The Work of Art collects conversations with some of the most lauded, interesting artists working—from Kara Walker, who takes readers through the creation of her 2014 public sculpture “A Subtlety,” to Gay Talese, who pores over the copious notes he took to write “Frank Sinatra Has a Cold” in 1966. No minutia is too small to examine. In fact, it seems like the smaller the detail, the more information Moss is able to extract. Alongside each story, Moss includes images of the works in various stages of completion. You see Twyla Tharp’s massive choreographic sketches, and the first stages of a Will Shortz crossword. The images elevate the book to a compendium of precious ephemera. It’s possible that Moss has invented a new literary genre that merges self-help, art history and journalism. However it’s classified, you’ll read it cover to cover.

The Work of Art is a visionary compendium of ephemera that makes visible the bridge between idea and artwork.

Edouard Manet’s Le Déjeuner Sur L’Herbe, or Luncheon on the Grass, is often called the first modern painting, and the paintings compiled in Luncheons on the Grass: Reimagining Manet’s Le Déjeuner Sur L’Herbe are like a time machine connecting modern and contemporary art. The 1863 painting, which is in the collection of Musée d’Orsay in Paris, shows a nude woman sitting with two clothed gentlemen in a wooded glade. In the foreground is an overturned picnic basket. In the background, another woman bathes in a stream. In 2021, art dealer and gallerist Jeffrey Deitch asked around 30 leading contemporary artists to respond to Manet’s masterpiece, and the resulting works—as well as several pieces that weren’t commissioned specifically for the show but refer to Le Déjeuner Sur L’Herbe—are collected in this volume. Deitch’s own essay about Manet’s painting includes insight into its history, from its nude model Victorine Meurent to the inspiration the artist drew from Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael and Diego Velázquez. The inclusion of interviews with artists about their works and Manet’s influence is particularly illuminating. In an interview with Nina Chanel Abney, for example, the artist says, “I pulled from Manet’s beautiful landscapes, scenes, and epic compositions to make a painting that centers Black queer people, creating a new narrative in which I feel seen.” Some artists did away with Manet’s references almost entirely, focusing instead on more obscure ones. It’s here that the interviews become particularly insightful, as in one with artist Ariana Papademetropoulos: She explains that by focusing on the bather in the background of Manet’s painting, she’s able to think about what it means to have a picnic and bring domesticity to the natural world. Some other pieces discussed include work made prior to the project, most famously Robert Colescott’s 1979 painting of the same name, but also a 1965 photograph of a family of nudists by Diane Arbus, which takes on new life here.

The illuminating Luncheons on the Grass asks 30 artists to create new works inspired by Manet’s eponymous masterpiece.

“Two antique dealers discover a stash of 340 photographs at a flea market.” Thus begins Casa Susanna: The Story of the First Trans Network in the United States, 1959-1968, one of the most captivating photography books in recent memory. Casa Susanna was a secluded bit of property with a few bungalows and a barn in the Catskills. In the 1950s and ’60s, the property belonged to Marie Tornell and her wife, a trans woman who was known to friends as Susanna Valenti. Susanna was a cover girl and contributing editor to Transvestia magazine, and she and Marie opened up their home to other like-minded people—including those who were assigned male at birth but wanted to live authentically as women, if only on holiday. A textured dust jacket gives the volume a sensual quality, so that opening its pages is like admiring a silk taffeta blouse. The photograph chosen for the book’s cover—one among hundreds of candid, unaffected shots—shows four different smartly dressed women pointing their cameras at a friend mid-pose. It speaks to the number of women involved in the project, and also the importance they saw of documenting each other. Elsewhere, the well-coiffed women playing Scrabble or sitting around a dining table at Casa Susanna are charmingly ordinary. Facsimiles of letters, magazine articles and even a handful of Susanna’s own advice column clips, “Susanna Says,” open up a whole world in a few hundred pages. The sheer volume of pictures included will open eyes to the existence of trans people before the contemporary age.

Casa Susanna is a sumptuous volume of photography that chronicles a midcentury trans enclave.

Ostensibly organized around the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising in 2019, About Face: Stonewall, Revolt, and New Queer Art was an art exhibition before it became a book. Its curator, Jonathan D. Katz, is arguably the leading scholar on queer art history, and here he proves that he’s also an adept editor. About Face catalogs 350 artworks from a diverse array of artists from the past 50 years: portraits by Peter Hujar, largely recognized as one of the leading photographers of the 20th century, are positioned alongside work by Zanele Muholi, the South African photographer and activist whose art-world rise was comparatively recent. The essays in this volume skew academic, which provides a grandiosity to its subject matter. Katz cautions readers that to divide art along a line of queer and not-queer is to ignore not only nuance but the thousands of years of art history that existed before such classifications were foregrounded. Katz suggests we remove the binary and “return to a more expansive sense of sexuality.” The scholarship is deep and rewards multiple slow readings, while the artworks are sumptuous, thrilling and demand immediate appreciation. About Face is highly recommended for students of art history and queer studies, but also for anyone interested in how language transforms alongside identity.

Jonathan D. Katz’s About Face celebrates the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall uprising with deep scholarship and thrilling artworks.

There have been other iterations of The 1619 Project, the groundbreaking reframing of American history that centers the Black experience. It was first a series of essays published in the New York Times Magazine in 2019, and it’s also been a podcast, an anthology, a children’s picture book and a documentary TV series. With The 1619 Project: A Visual Experience, the project’s original editor, Nikole Hannah-Jones, presents its definitive version. This new volume combines seven powerful essays from the original series with visual elements that deepen their message and, as Hannah-Jones writes in the preface, create “an experience for the reader, a wanting to reflect, to sit in both the discomfort and the joy, to contemplate what a nation owes a people who have contributed so much and yet received so little, and maybe even, to act.” 

It’s one thing to read about the slave trade, for example, but another to see a high-resolution photograph labeled “A child’s iron shackles” with this stark explainer: “Because governments determined by the ton how many people could be fitted onto a slave ship, enslavers considered children especially advantageous: they could fill the boat’s small spaces, allowing more human capital in the cargo hold.” A chapter titled “Fear” includes an essay co-written by historian Leslie Alexander and her sister, The New Jim Crow author Michelle Alexander, that reframes police brutality as a result of the same white fear that can be traced back to the very beginnings of American history. The essay is intercut with various photographs from demonstrations, including photojournalist Robert Cohen’s shot of a Black man in a stars-and-stripes shirt throwing a container of tear gas back at the police in Ferguson, Missouri. Woven throughout the book’s 288 pages are 13 original artworks from celebrated visual artists like Carrie Mae Weems, multiple archival photographs of happy Black families and a vibrant spread of a Beyoncé concert. This visual history is an invaluable addition to a revelatory project and an essential selection for any American classroom or family library.

The 1619 Project: A Visual Experience complements the storied New York Times series with visual art and photography that deepens our understanding of how slavery has profoundly shaped American life.

The Story of Perfume: A Lavishly Illustrated Guide successfully pulls off one of my favorite literary tricks: It takes something extremely specific—in this case, perfume—and gets so immersed in it that all manner of connections among seemingly disparate worlds begin to take shape. From ancient Greek mythology to traditional Indian medicine, from the French Revolution to the sexual revolution, from Salvador Dali to Christian Dior, perfume was there through it all. And although fragrance is an area of study that is traditionally skipped by scholarly treatment, historian Élisabeth de Feydeau takes her subject seriously. The Story of Perfume is much more scholastic than you might expect. For example, the chapter “The First Iconic Perfumes” includes an entry about the 16th-century French king Francis I, whose edict to treat gunshot wounds with an elixir made from aromatic plants became so popular among the general public that it helped forge a path for legendary perfume house Guerlain. The stories Feydeau tells are fascinating, and they’re matched with a slew of equally compelling visual elements, like an ancient Roman fresco that depicts a seated woman decanting perfume, photographs of fragrant herbs and more elaborately detailed glass bottles than I was able to count. This is a great reference for fragrance lovers, but might also be an unexpected supplement for students of history—from ancient times through the Industrial Revolution, in particular.

The Story of Perfume is a sumptuous reference for fragrance lovers and an unexpected supplement for students of history.

James Beard Award-winning author Alexander Smalls includes 120 recipes from 33 chefs, restaurateurs, caterers, cooks and writers in The Contemporary African Kitchen: Home Cooking Recipes From the Leading Chefs of Africa. It’s a massive undertaking that spans an entire continent filled with innumerable culinary styles. But that breadth is important to Smalls, who writes in the book’s foreword that “our culture has been kept alive in great part through our culinary currency and traditions.” The book is organized into broad geographic segments: Northern, Eastern, Central, Southern and Western Africa are all represented. The Northern African section includes a particularly interesting recipe for Egyptian okra stew, which is loaded with garlic, basil, cilantro and mint and looks at once lush and hearty. In his description of the stew, chef Mostafa Seif writes, “Some foods are as much for nourishment as they are a tool for showing off.” He goes on to describe how people would hang okra from their balconies on the days that it was on the menu as a kind of demonstration of abundance. This book is great for adventurous eaters from all backgrounds, but that’s not to say an experimental palette is a prerequisite; if you’re more comfortable with traditionally American fare, you may be surprised by how familiar some of these dishes are: from Ethiopian deviled eggs and a chocolate cake recipe from Uganda to a buttery, garlicky recipe for South African mashed potatoes with spinach.

 

James Beard Award-winning author Alexander Smalls’ The Contemporary African Kitchen collects recipes that span an entire continent filled with innumerable culinary styles and traditions.

Amy Sall’s The African Gaze: Photography, Cinema and Power began as a university course Sall developed at New York City’s The New School. An undercurrent of academic rigor flows throughout the volume, which functions as an introduction to African photography and film as well as a collective biography of some of its most influential players. In her preface, writer and archivist Sall distills her thoughts on the subjects she spent so many years studying, and each sentence is packed with authoritative insight. The photography section begins with self-portraits by Ghanaian Felicia Abban, who also happens to be one of the few “named and known” women photographers in Africa. Many of the book’s other highlights involve female subjects: a striking studio portrait of three women by Augustt Azaglo Cornélius Yawo; a candid shot of four young women seated around a table at a party by Jean Depara; and a woman posing seated with a single high-heeled sandal that’s been placed atop her oversized skirt by Seydou Keita. Cinema is more difficult to capture in still images, and so the Filmmakers section relies on the breadth of its subjects, which includes artists working in documentary and animation in addition to scripted dramas. Particularly evocative are images of the two protagonists of Djibril Diop Mambéty’s Touki Bouki, or the stunning close-up of the main character in Ousmane Sembene’s Black Girl. The African Gaze is an essential, encyclopedic study of African image-makers, and reading through it in its entirety made me feel like I’d actually enrolled in Sall’s course.

Amy Sall’s The African Gaze is an essential, encyclopedic study of African photographers and filmmakers that’s packed with insight and images.

Sign Up

Stay on top of new releases: Sign up for our newsletter to receive reading recommendations in your favorite genres.

Trending Features