Review

The central themes of the show are shimmering and elusive, like sunlight on a river.

A century after Duchamp, I think the art world has lost its sense of what art is, and more importantly, what art can and cannot do.

This is the second post in a series of zine roundups where I pull some zines from my library—some old, some new, some from Texas and some from abroad—and give you the lowdown on who made them and what they’re about.

What was so powerful about the weekend’s conference was the attempt from a number of different subjective and practical standpoints to evoke an ethics around collaboration.

Martinez’s work stems from the physical interactions he has with the city.

Taken together, the three solo shows are concerned with performance. You may never stop acting, but sometimes you can see the stage. 

The show's implied literary bent is a bit of a red herring. Technique is the star.

Each artist explores traditional media in formal ways, and the two solo shows mirror each other in saturated color and abstracted space.

Highly inventive within a seemingly narrow construct, Rosen’s art is philosophical in nature, and comments on the ever-shifting state of our culture.

Since 2014, San Antonio-based artist Christie Blizard has been interrupting the over-the-top normalcy we expect in the crowds of the "Today" show and "Good Morning America."

It’s remarkable how many obscure and hidden niche-cultures of the west Wilson was allowed to photograph.

The intimate understanding that resulted between Briggs’ and Strand’s works is something that the viewer won't grasp on a surface level. It’s deeper and intuitive.

Casas' work is an expansive and fluid vision — an enduring aesthetic of Chicano art while challenging what exactly that meant when Casas was alive, and what it could be going forward. 

Are the bricks the words we hurl through windows, or in this case, screens?

Jimmy James Canales’ playful and brilliant show cleverly finds the patterned bridge of the vanity of male fantasia.

Fung's work is full of the contradictions of nature + technology.

Fort Works Art is going the extra mile to support and engage emerging and established artists in the region.

There is something righteous in looking at the grotesque hellscape of our world, feeling disgusted, and then making something beautiful. 

Wolverton songs — grand adventures in tiny, shiny packages — tend toward the cerebral and the mystical.

The immediate comprehensibility of an image can still have the power to provoke and move us.