In response to cries of "foul!" from artists, the public, and their own Civic Art Committee, Houston Art Alliance has has posted an outline of its public art selection procedures on its website. It's as clear as mud.
Full of large beauties and tiny subtleties; the show is as much about the anxiety of extinction and the fragility of our world as it is about the parallels humans with honeybees.
Bill and Rainey search their memories for an unscientific catalog of trends in Texas art in the past year, and argue about the vileness of Richard Phillips. (NSFW!)
The idea that pattern recognition is not solely an aspect of visual interpretation but also of experiential sorting—and that these two are operated by the same mechanism in 40Hz—pushes Kantor’s theme onto a much larger stage than simple illusory fun.
This guy is red and yellow stripes. That one is gray brickwork. Little realist one-act plays set in the familiar world of our safe, middle-class society.
"Vibrant community." Buzzwords exist to obliterate reality, so what's getting obliterated here? Could it be that the art community is not "vigorous, full of life?" Bingo!
Two guys redoing old Art Guys performances, except they’re black! What does it mean to be constantly carrying a pile of other peoples’ assumptions on one’s shoulders?
Fraleigh is interested in in the subtle moments that nevertheless fuel sexuality: of wanting to control, of wanting to be controlled, of rapture, and of surrender.
As expected, Fischl spoke of his intent to make “Bad” sexually inappropriate paintings with a capital B. But more surprising was his continued passionate admission to being at heart an Abstract Expressionist.
I tried getting money from the Non-creative Arts Council of Houston. The NACHO people think their job is to turn artists into submissive, fear-based art-bureaucrats like them. Ugh. I'd rather hustle. At least I'd get to keep some self respect.
Houston artists Troy Stanley and Tracey Conwell stood up before City Council and Houston Mayor Annise Parker on Tuesday to tell them something's wrong with the Houston Arts Alliance.
Emptiness and woe in some of the pictures are invested with a poetic force and certain street scenes emit and reflect light like visionary theater settings.
Last Thursday, three hundred people, Santa, and I gathered in the shadow of the Sabine St. Lofts in Houston, absorbing free beer, many smores, and a little hot chocolate as we waited to begin the Unsilent Night. Tonight, it's Austin's turn.
I'm so mega-successful I don't even blow the foam off my own beer. Nowadays, between late-night massages, morning tennis lessons and afternoons at the yacht club, I barely have timeto be a creative genius. But it wasn't always this way.
I don’t think what’s going on out there is really art anymore, anyway. It’s showbiz. And most artists aren’t born with a disposition to play that game.
