The painted tires and sculpture-like assemblages fronting the small businesses along North Shepherd are so readily visible because that's their function — they’re signs that can be grasped in a drive-by moment, symbols of the businesses from which they spring.
The works that artists make about love can communicate something deeper than a Hallmark-card reflex — they can conjure the earnest, heartbroken, brooding, obsessive, disappointed and joyous — sometimes all at once.
We can’t fault galleries for doing what they have to to stay in business any more than we can fault artists for creating sellable work. We can, however, reexamine our expectations about the art we come across.
This is the second post in a series of zine roundups where I pull some zines from my library—some old, some new, some from Texas and some from abroad—and give you the lowdown on who made them and what they’re about.
It’s easy to overlook people being killed in state-sanctioned executions when they are just numbers on a page. It’s much harder to ignore the system when you humanize an inmate and grasp him or her as an individual.
For three artists so deeply tapped into the cultural consciousness to collectively experience an event as monumental as the election of Donald Trump, bonding and the sharing of a common sense of urgency seems inevitable.