Color as thunder: LeRoy Neiman and the American arena (opens in new tab)

When I think of LeRoy Neiman, I do not think first of polite studio practice or the hushed sanctity of the white cube. I think of Ernest Hemingway with a paintbrush: bulls snarling in Pamplona, gin sweating in a glass, men leaning too close to danger because danger made them feel briefly immortal. I think...