Hills Snyder visits Ivor Shearer's haunting real world re-shooting of The Road: "You are left with that which cannot be escaped. And it follows you out the door."
Especially in the low light of the bar’s evening ambience, the salon-style constellation gives the impression that La Carafe is where all souls—good and bad, gloriously joyful and dreadfully serious—come to raise a glass, get at least slightly crooked, and disappear into time.
Tanner's incredibly skilled oil on panel paintings at Moody Gallery each tell one of Aesop's Fables, while the Brandon hosts a fascinating look at the "Lizard Cult" of Lee Baxter Davis, Trenton Doyle Hancock, Robyn O'Neil, Georganne Deen and Gary Panter.
It feels like the viewer is being led down the bizarre maze of invention, where fleeting thoughts flicker like a lotto machine and the art featured happens to be the image we landed on.
A tour of the popular hells and the famous artworks therein, set to a groovy soundtrack!
And as with the sublime in nature, wonder is a big part of the experience of being with Geffert’s complicated work, but there is little in the work that confounds the mastery of their own execution.
Galleries exist in a strange gradient between shop and museum, money-maker and cultural institution. Pragmatism has certainly dictated that this exhibition leans toward the former.
Magee's quirky paintings on found wood explore a personal cosmology of signs and symbols like an updated, more polished Forrest Bess.
An aesthetically pleasing smorgasbord, but the potentially powerful connection between our love of food photography and larger societal concern with consumption is weak.
Secor uses objects and artifacts that connote her mother's presence. Huckaby sketches more than a hundred portraits of people in his neighborhood in Fort Worth.
If you are in search of a show that gets a little gritty and echoes a profound darkness and pessimism, you have come to the right museum. Even the philanthropic goodwill of the Menil's founders is questioned.
Entrenched in the world of pattern, Thorne's paintings mix faux bois, window shades, bricks and tiles. Vidal's tent evokes a dream of an arctic "world saturated in blue."
Wegman's hilarious slapstick conceptualism and Stine's tight, focused paintings talk about the life in the artist's studio and the simple act of inventing something.
John Adelman follows the rules. Precise and odd, they dominate every mark.
The apartment gallery is to the critic as the firefly is to the concerned biologist. Both a signs of a healthy ecosystem. Many of us lament the passing of an Austin original that will light up 49th street no more.
There are thirteen major painting exhibitions currently on view in Houston. A humorous but meaningful event at The Art Guys studio cast them all in a different light.
Under the mistletoe, Texas artists looking for a little year-end green and buyers looking for unique gifts get together, doing an end-run around the artworld's high prices.
For most—if not all—the artists here, the difficult task was to come to terms with an event of world-historical proportions that occurred while they were infants or prior to their birth.
Austin’s Farewell Film Club presents a variety of unreal celluloid realities—not only great, rarely-seen films, but an interesting mix of stuff not normally seen together.
Mexico City is buzzing with energy, and its creative citizens are busy taking chances and negotiating life and history. There’s something in the ether right now about making art from potted plants.