Max Beckmann is the great painter we keep forgetting about. Since his death in 1950, there have been major retrospectives of his work every 20 years or so. But the latest one, in 1984, traveled only to Los Angeles and St. Louis, Mo. Now he has another, a smart and powerful exhibition that originated last year at the Pompidou Center in Paris, then hit the Tate Modern in London but has its sole U.S. venue at the Museum of Modern Art in Queens, N.Y. Too bad for every place else, because this is one of the indispensable shows of the year.
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