Technology, Memory & Domestic Space: “Hack the Planet” at Grackle Art Gallery, Fort Worth

by Colette Copeland April 28, 2025

This was my first visit to the Grackle Art Gallery, an eclectic nonprofit space located in a residential neighborhood on the west side of Fort Worth. Founded by artist Matt Sacks, who died in 2024, the gallery has been active for 15 years and is now run by Linda Little. For this exhibition, the curatorial duo Kickpigeon Kids, artists Cosmo Jones and Max Marshall, invited eight new media artists to create work and also donate an object that represented obsolete or outdated technology to be incorporated into the show. Presented as an installation, Hack the Planet is a nontraditional exhibition that explores how technology functions in the home in unexpected ways.

A photograph of exterior of a house gallery.

The Grackle Art Gallery

As I moved through the house, it wasn’t always clear which objects permanently belonged to the space and which were part of the show. The collaborative, assemblage-style curation raised compelling questions about authorship: What does it mean for artists to relinquish control over how their work is installed and experienced? When the outdated technological objects are interwoven with the art works, how does the context and meaning shift? I intentionally visited when the gallery was closed and devoid of people, so I could fully engage with the environment — although this meant I couldn’t see how the artists responded to the curators’ interventions. According to Jones and Marshall, they communicated clearly with the artists about their intent to integrate works with existing domestic elements.

One of the first pieces that drew my attention was a 35mm slide carousel by Julie Libersat. Projected into the corner of the living room, the images depict domestic “non-spaces” — those often-ignored corners of a home. The unconventional placement of the projection playfully disrupts the pictorial plane. Libersat’s use of outdated technology is echoed by several other artists in the show. The slide projector, once a staple for home parties and family storytelling, here becomes a tool for subtle subversion. Libersat also contributed two hologram pieces: one embedded in a houseplant, the other in a tiny, hot pink recliner — each humorously treated as a guest in the house.

A photograph of a holographic artwork resting in a potted plant.

A piece by Julie Libersat in “Hack the Planet”

A photograph of a holographic artwork resting on a pink recliner.

A piece by Julie Libersat in “Hack the Planet”

Adjacent to Libersat’s piece is a work by Julia Caswell Freund: a clip from her Washing Machine performance, where she puts herself into a white pedestal that serves as an imaginary washing machine. The saturated color of the blue bag the video is projected onto overpowers its imagery. I found myself wishing the projection was on a different surface — perhaps inside an actual washing machine, so that the performance could resonate more strongly. The subtlety of the artist’s body language and movement of the pedestal is difficult to discern.

An photograph of a projected video and installation piece by Mckee Frazior.

A work by Mckee Frazior in “Hack the Planet”

Mckee Frazior’s large video projection spans nearly the entire opposite wall. The work features a tiled grid of bright yellow, over which a hand repeatedly draws a black line. The piece evoked memories of Harold and the Purple Crayon, one of my favorite children’s books. Frazior transforms the act of drawing into a metaphorical gesture, mediated through technology. Nearby, childlike elements placed by the curators — a miniature cheetah rug, a Thomas the Tank Engine toy, and a looping Thomas cartoon — add layers of playful absurdity to the space, rather than evoking simple nostalgia.

A photograph of a Ronald McDonald bust sitting in a gray folding chair.

A piece by Nathan Harper in “Hack the Planet”

In the next room, a circle of chairs holds a curious mix of sculptural sound works. One supports a Ronald McDonald bust mounted on a vintage cassette recorder, created by Nathan Harper. The looped audio is a harsh, scratchy soundscape, reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. Nearby are two boom boxes, one from the cassette era and one from the CD era, which emit white noise. Arranged in a circle, these anthropomorphized machines feel like they are holding a conversation, communicating through hissing static about their place in the evolution of technology and evoking personal memories for viewers who lived through those times.

A photograph of a gps device with directions to a McDonald's restaurant.

“Hack the Planet” bathroom detail

The bathroom, often an afterthought in gallery spaces, is given significant attention here. An art dealer friend once told me the best art should be placed in the bathroom — after all, it’s where people spend time seated and observant. Here, the walls are densely hung salon-style with two-dimensional works. A cool blue light bathes the room, creating an eerie ambiance that also prevents close inspection of the works. I was initially drawn to a GPS monitor affixed to the mirror, displaying a map to the nearest McDonald’s, a nod to Harper’s earlier piece. In my distraction, I almost missed the subtle audio work by Jules Jung cleverly embedded within the space — easy to overlook but rewarding upon closer listening. Jung’s work is composed of field recordings of a visit to her childhood home. Through layering and distortion, the work questions the veracity of memory.

A photograph of an installation featuring an arcade game with an animal sculpture sitting on top; the scene is bathed in red light.

A work by Nick Bontrager in “Hack the Planet”

Outside the bathroom, Nick Bontrager’s arcade cabinet glows ominously in the hallway, topped with a tinsel reindeer. A red light fills the corridor, casting a threatening hue. The arcade screen flashes between video game footage and film clips, with the word “DOMINATION” displayed boldly at the top. I wasn’t tempted to try and play.

An installation image of video works on two small television screens and projected on a wall.

Jules Jung, Dust Bunny, and Diana Rojas in “Hack the Planet.” Photo courtesy of Kickpigeon Kids

The final room was the kitchen. At first glance, it appears to be a functioning domestic space, complete with appliances and a sitting area. Tucked into this space are works by Diana Rojas, Dust Bunny, and Jung. These pieces are activated by darkness. Dust Bunny’s digital print, housed inside a bunny-shaped cage, reads like S&M Donnie Darko. Other works include TVs playing static or sci-fi scenes, referencing alien communication and broken signals. Rojas’ celestial projection completes the environment, transforming the room into an otherworldly dreamscape.

Kickpigeon’s curatorial approach evokes Dada and Fluxus traditions — embracing chance, collapsing the boundaries between art and life, and celebrating collaborative creation. Their playful, open-ended installation strategy challenges traditional notions of display, encouraging viewers to imagine how art — especially new media — can function in a lived space. Grackle Art Gallery demonstrates how artworks and found objects can collectively form the personality of a home: full of curiosity, nostalgia, and the joy of collecting. 

Hack the Planet will be on view at the Grackle Art Gallery through May 7, 2025. The gallery is open by appointment and a closing reception will be held May 7 from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. To schedule a visit, email or message the curators at [email protected] or on Instagram.

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