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The leather padded seats welcomed my presence, but their sharp angles did not exactly promote lounging.

Dallas' Goss-Michael shows how an institution can shift gears and broaden its impact.

Cohesion isn't the main issue here; it's that not one of those voices is distinct enough to give the show form. I found myself checking and re-checking labels to try to understand who was who.

The mystery is how Magritte became so ordinary.

When Theo Wujcik, the great technical printmaker and beloved personality, laid his head on his hospital pillow, none of it mattered: not Rosenquist’s or Ruscha’s fame, or Theo’s lack thereof, the Dallas art scene, the fainting guy in the audience, or me.

Just as man evolved from apes, each new work is another instance of Schwarz applying Schwarz, like barbecue sauce, to new situations.

Ripple's small aesthetic vignettes predict that small celebrations of humor, imagination, and participation will eke life into sterile online outlets.

Weaving home-turf relevance among the gargantuan guests and happenings, Texas filmmaking still has space and grounds to stomp in the SXSW universe.

I love the show and I get it, but I feel struck in the head. With my curiosity overstimulated and my eco-conscience battered, I'm simply consuming another large-scale cultural production.

Long’s installations are about watching others experience them: amongst the barrage of sensorial stimulations, we can see ourselves as a part of the crowd—the insatiable consumers of cultural experiences.

This is not a movie. Friday evening, the Menil front lawn will flicker with dream-like film experiments by Hans Richter, Man Ray, Maya Deren, Joseph Cornell, and Lawrence Jordan.

This week on HBO's "Girls," Louise Lasser appears as a wheelchair-bound artist. It struck me as so subtle and genuine that I overlooked it at first.

“Postminimalist,” “Conceptual Art,” “Process Art.” For anyone who frequents museums or has taken a basic art history survey, such tags are omnipresent––so much so, in fact, we may sometimes ignore how distorting they can be.

I decided to look at the exhibition history of CADD galleries to see how diverse this prestigious group is when it comes to the artists they choose to exhibit.

The gravity and grandeur that one expects from the "classical" in art can't be introduced into the contemporary without its debilitating sidekick, bathos. We all know that. But where does this leave the artist?

And just like fat people never need to be told they're fat because, seriously, they know, the smarter Dallas artists don't need to be told about how stultifying and suburban Dallas life can be. They know.

Gather your friends whose work you actually admire, pool your resources, and rent space in a vacant strip mall for a month.

It feels like a high-wire act; Bates' best works feel intuitive, almost accidental, because the accumulation of decades of experience has afforded him that leisure.

By bringing these images and ideas to the present, the viewer is able to engage with a time when people saw political action as a tangible thing.

Are women’s films still not receiving the same amount of attention as men’s?