Cusick, like any good collagist, is an obsessive—not just visually and organizationally, but personally—and much of the work in this show is centered on some point of his combined rage, sense of betrayal, and a warning shot.
Five years ago, seven years ago, some of us were trying to persuade artists in other more expensive places to move to Texas because it was affordable. But I can’t say that to people in good faith anymore.
Jules Buck Jones comes off a bit like a wild child. Formality doesn’t interest him. It’s easier to picture him perched in the canopy of a forest than standing on the concrete floor of a white-cube gallery.