We hope to have articles and reviews coming in soon.

Enjoy!

[Show as slideshow]

Lone Star Studios / 107 Lone Star Blvd.  Dec 10, 2011 – 6p-10p (one night only).

No Class: Three Emerging Artists, Post Academia – This show features the art of James Woodard, Nicolas Morales Erick Salazar.  For bio and show info, click here.

Inspire Art / 200 Queen Anne Court.  Dec 8, 2011 – 6p-8p (one night only).

Inspire Holiday Market – Form the event page: “You are invited to Inspire’s Holiday Market Reception Featuring Arts & Crafts Created by Local Artists”  Great gift ideas here for the art lover in your life.  Also an awesome way to show our support for the local arts community.

Radius Center / 106 Auditorium Circle.  Dec 9, 2011 – 5p-930p.

Gabriel Diego Delgado Exhibition – Curated by Joan Grona of Joan Grona Gallery.  Delgado’s work is simply amazing.  Keeping a primarily socio-political focus, his work involves ink illustrations, stencils, graffiti and combinations thereof.  For more info see the Radius Canter site, or the artists website.

High Wire Art Gallery / 326 W. Josephine.  Dec 9, 2011 – 6p-9p.

Kathrine DaLuz Maple exhibit.  9 new pieces of select work from this artist and several other artists.  This event also has pieces which are priced for the gift giving art lovers.  See the High Wire Arts site here.

Anarte Gallery / 7959 Broadway.  Dec 14, 2011 – 6p-9p.

Steven DaLuz “ Watchers” Art Exhibit.  Steven’s amazing encaustics work returns to figurative works in this series.  Some of the proceeds of this event will go to Arts SA.  Music by Harpist Stephanie Nash.  For info on this and other exhibits see the Anarte site.

My Examiner.com feed  -  San Antonio area art and events.

Low World   -  My Personal site.  Short Stories, photography, project updates, stuff…

Voices of Art Magazine   -  an archive of my articles for VOA.

Flickr  -  My photostream, includes works in progress.

Facebook  -  For networking, art, fun and strangeness.

Google+  -  My profile.

LinkedIn  -  Professional profile and networking.

Blue Star Arts Complex – First Friday

Holiday music courtesy of Boneshakers Bicycle Pub (featuring The Circle School & Blessed Sacrament Elementary, The Weetles).

Phillip King Exhibit “Four Decades with Colour” Dec 1- Feb 12, Main Gallery.  Sculptural and print work from the artist dated from the 60’s to today.  King has been a teacher throughout most of his life, including  posts at the Royal College of Art and the Royal Academy Schools.  He has also been a trustee of the Tate Gallery.  His work spans many different ‘styles’ of sculpture and serves as a brilliant dialogue about sculpture and art in general.

Philip John Evett Exhibit “Untitled” Dec 1-Feb 12, Middle Gallery and Gallery 4.  Also an educator for much of his career, Evett currently teaches at Trinity University.  Sensual and figurative sculpture.  Beautiful work, typically carved wood or cast bronze.  Click the link above for a great gallery of his work.

Harold Wood Exhibit “Levelland [Points of Scale]” Dec 1-Feb 12, Project Space.  Hard to give a short description of Harold Wood, or his studio/workshop/showroom/art gallery/complex ‘Harold J. Wood and Company LP’.  In essence they create environments.  Form furniture and paintings to some involvement in the complex computer driven equipment as well as old world traditional means of production.  They create an environment, without seeming to be ‘interior decorators’.  Instead there is nothing but art.  Go to the site and read the bio, it is amazing all by itself.

Also coming up soon at the Blue Star Arts Space: Blue Starry Night Holiday Sale.

The revised info for the event is now December 8^th, 2pm to 7pm.  There will be awesome work for sale here, fine art, decorative art, food and drink.

David Shelton Gallery

Also along the Friday artwalk trail will be Jane Lawrence at the David Shelton Gallery.  The samples available online of Lawrence’s work do this artist’s work no justice.  The illustrations I have seen are brilliant.  The architectural, figurative, formal and surrealistic abstractions involving the human form, machinery, insects and more are full of life.   Great gallery showing great work.

Luminaria 2012 – Update

The application to be involved is now available online.  Last year was amazing (see some images on Voices of Art Magazine) and as always, San Antonio will do it bigger and better this year.  There have been same changes, so go to the site and take a look if interested.

And because the internets need to be represented…

There has been some awesome work coming out of Flash Fiction coming out of the San Antonio Current.  The Flash Fiction section is run by Lyle Rosdahl who also is involved in the Postcard Fiction Collaborative, which is also something you should check out.

Check back frequently for updates and event info, reviews, interviews and other great San Antonio Art Events!

My Examiner.com feed  -  San Antonio area art and events.

Low World   -  My Personal site.  Short Stories, photography, project updates, stuff…

Voices of Art Magazine   -  an archive of my articles for VOA.

Flickr  -  My photostream, includes works in progress.

Facebook  -  For networking, art, fun and strangeness.

Google+  -  My profile.

LinkedIn  -  Professional profile and networking.

One of the most intriguing aspects of this artwork was that it was created by the collective, Okay Mountan.  Artist collectives are created for a number of reasons, but generally their intent is to alter the relationships of power in the art world.  Self-described “as an artist-run alternative gallery space,”  the artists embrace a post-modern approach to resistance that is presentational rather than confrontational.  The statement of this would be:  This is what we want to do, and we are doing it on our own.  This approach does not preclude participation in mainstream venues, because the aim is to maximize opportunity.
It is only within the context of the mainstream museum that the economic value of a commodity can be subverted.  Libby Black recreates high-end designer products from Louis Vuitton, Kate Spade and Hermes, among others.  This type of mimicry is not new, because look-alike reproductions of these products is a big business even though it is illegal.  These reproductions are meant to fool the eye, and the uninitiated usually don’t know the difference between the real item and the copy.  Because part of their value lies in their ability to signify the status of the individual who owns it, it is important for some to know the difference between real products and fake ones.
It is clear that Black’s reproductions are fake and not intended to be passed off as the real thing.  They are made of paper, exhibit a rather clumsy craftsmanship and are not useable.  This may lead you to think that these fetishistic creations might be the provenance of a mad woman.  There is more to this than meets the eye.  It is the sign value of the objects that is significant in this collection.  Within the context (the museum) that the artwork is presented, the logos come to signify an ongoing  ‘critique of consumption’  by well-known artists such as Barbara Kruger and Shepherd Fairey.  It is this association that signifies that the artist is making an important statement conceptually, and can be deemed a valuable art commodity.   The artwork’s monetary value is directly proportional to its worth as an art commodity.  Ultimately, the artwork garners status and value equal to or greater than the designer originals.
Similarly, Conrad Bakker simulates high-end, mass produced,  mid-century modern furniture.  The originals were designed by famous architects and designers from the Bauhaus School in Germany specifically for industrial production.  His wood and paint constructions look like they could be the original prototypes.   Bakker imagines a slight instance of resistance at some stage between completion of the design and mass production, implying that the object would have retained a higher social and artistic value than a mass produced item.  Bakker relies upon a Marxist axiom that commodification destroyed the social value of the handmade object–and he wants us to recognize this.
Bakker romantically re-imagines and  encourages an instance of resistance in his viewers as they contemplate how value is derived for a particular object.  He positions his furniture copy next to a painting of an advertisement for the real chair, posing the question:  Which has more value, this reproduction or a painting of the original?

The question is moot, however, because it is the sign value of these objects that determines their economic value.  The real question here is:  what is the value of an instance of resistance?  Does the artist effectively create a moment of  resistance that will lead the viewer to actively resist economic, political, and ideological domination?
Kiel Johnson exactly replicates the structure of musical instruments without trying to cover up the materials he makes them with.  Throughout his career, he has created copious quantities of sculptures with cardboard, tape and glue.  Johnson sets up a conflict between our way of knowing a familiar object such as a violin and the way we make sense of the violin that Johnson presents to us.  The object subverts socially agreed upon significations, requiring us to consider new ways to make sense of familiar objects.
Kaz  Oshira’s artwork was the most disconcerting and unsettling for me.  I was so put off by the aesthetics of the pieces that I simply was not interested in them at the time.  The one piece that totally flummoxed me was the white kitchen cabinets hanging on the wall.  I have learned that his pieces are actually paintings on stretched canvas.  Within the context of this essay, they now seem to be the most representative of the type of subversion I have discussed.  His kitchen cabinets tip the world’s axis.
It is specifically this re-framing of knowledge that lies at the heart of political art.  Political art seeks to re-tell the fictional narrative that supports our culture and what we know as the “real” world.  This real world is continually being re-framed by politicians, economists, business, and……artists.  The struggle lies in what version of the fictional narrative will be accepted at any given moment in time.   The history of art shows clearly how this re-framing occurs, and also how it becomes a part of the general fictional narrative of our times.

Linda Lewis is a writer/artist living in Edinburg TX.

Azaceta’s Oklahoma 4 is a large wall-mounted assemblage made from acrylic and enamel paint, photos, found objects, tape, plastic fencing, metal studs on wood.  On the wood support, the artist painted an explosive abstract pattern and included images of a severed leg and his own somber self-portrait. Metal scraps refer to the ruins of the destroyed building, while attachments include objects that could have been found in the rubble—such as shoes, stuffed animals, a toy car, and a baby doll. The wreckage is further alluded to in attached photos of old and broken mattresses and flowers. Throughout the composition, these various elements are tied together with caution tape, normally used by police officers to keep spectators away from a scene of violence or disaster.
Azaceta has commented on his emotional response to the fact that so many children were killed in the explosion.

According to the artist:

“I saw on television the devastation of the building, the killing of so many innocent people and children – a lot of children! Seeing  toys, tricycles, stuffed animals, etc., scattered all over the perimeter . . . that was like a loud scream emanating from the wreckage. That made me start making works of art reflecting this horrendous act, with the hope of silencing that pain and creating compassion and visual beauty to counter such an innocuous act of violence against humanity.”

As a youth in Cuba in the 1950s, Azaceta witnessed shootings and bombings firsthand during Fidel Castro’s overthrow of the government led by Fulgencio Batista. Since moving to the United States in the 1960s, he has addressed many social themes in his paintings and sculptures. Most notable are works devoted to raising awareness about the plight of the Cuban “boat people” (who in the late 1980s-early 1990s attempted to escape from Cuba on rafts), the AIDS crisis, gang violence, and Hurricane Katrina.
In Plum’s installation, the artist addresses ongoing problems at the Texas/Mexico border.  Specifically, she has responded to the sad statistics regarding the numbers of women and girls who have been killed or have disappeared in Juarez, Mexico, across the border from El Paso. Many of the victims were raped, mutilated, and tortured, and little has been done to provide protection for the women of Juarez or to bring the perpetrators to justice. To represent the victimized women, Plum created monumental-scale black brooms that are knotted in the middle as a symbol for the cutting off of female energy.  To either side of these hanging brooms, she has placed metates—domestic implements for grinding corn, with a cast-glass Virgin of Guadalupe inserted in their centers, thus giving the overall presentation the appearance of a memorial altar.
Plum believes in the shamanistic and healing potential of art.

Reflecting upon the creation of Solidaridad, she has commented:

“I have come to look at the Rio Grande as an open wound. As a bicultural artist, healer, and activist I see this as an opportunity to bring awareness to these horrible acts of violence, as well as a healing or limpia.”

In addressing some of today’s atrocities through creative endeavor, Azaceta and Plum join the many artists of note—Goya and Picasso, for example—who throughout history have contributed emotionally charged or poignantly poetic commentaries on the issues of their day.  In so doing, they demonstrate the enduring potential of an artwork to awaken the apathetic, to stimulate the mind for reflection and discourse, and to confront with grace the socially relevant problems of our time.

David S. Rubin is The Brown Foundation Curator of Contemporary Art at the San Antonio Museum of Art.

Toe to Toe with the Border Patrol - Still from Video - Lee Basham

Filming down by the river is risky. Don’t do it. Nevertheless, documentary is the best resource we have when it comes to telling the truth about America’s deluded domestic war zone. I’ve been pursuing this endeavor for nine years, so I’ve learned nine ‘rules. Think Zombieland – descriptions of what to expect. Legal disclaimer: These ‘rules’  are merely my own, have no universal application whatsoever, and are based on my personal experience alone; I have no legal standing and offer no guarantees. In short: Don’t film on the Rio. Think Deliverance. But if you feel the need, it’ll go a little like this:

Rules for borderland documentarians:

1. You’re a drug dealer, coyote, or arms smuggler, until proven otherwise. The Border Patrol (BP) knows  that a $4,000 video camera is a tricky disguise. Very clever, that.

 

The first time I got detained, I told them I was making a documentary. They replied “That’s a slick trick,”  and that they didn’t appreciate being lied to. If I didn’t tell them about the drugs, they were going to tow my car to sector command and cut it up with chain saws. “Your cocaine? We’ll find it.” Moral of the story: stick to your story. Gently explain your project. Be good humored and patient, smile. Ask if you can film them. It’s part of the drill.

Entry, July 20th, 2006: Today I’m lucky; the Border Patrol agent who detains me is from McAllen, the town I live in. I tell him about the new Convention Center and he finally believes my ID isn’t fake. I ask if he doesn’t feel silly trying to catch the little kids sneaking over from Mexico to go to school. He says, “Yeah, it’s idiotic, but I love driving that road.”

2. Your kayak, canoe, or other flotation device will drive the BP batty. Think Apocalypse Now.’ You will be swooped down upon by armed helicopters,
closely filming you, while military-style ground forces are on their way. But having a boat is definitely worth it.

 

In Nuevo Laredo local entrepreneurs have discovered that cheap, plastic, kiddy-pools are perfect to ferry contraband across the Rio – the disposable cigarette lighter of smuggling. Abandoned pools line the banks west of town. But the canoe, now, that is probably the worst choice for smuggling: It’s big, turtle slow, expensive, takes two people to easily operate, and you can see everything that’s in there.  Get a canoe.

Kiddypool - Still from Video - Lee Basham

Entry, March 7th, 2011: About the dumbest thing we can do is put a $4,000 video camera in a 10 cent trash bag, toss it into a canoe, and head out on the Rio. So we do it. We leave, eager for the water, wary of the heat. The dashboard radio chatters about Muslim hordes, hordes of Mexicans. It’s AM 710, the best ‘hate radio’ in south Texas. It sets the mood: ‘unreal,’ for Susan. At the river the air is thick, sweet with springtime, the new greenery is luminescent, and the water, crystal clear. We put in and head upstream for the bend where trucks gather on the south side, waiting. As we paddle on, ‘picnickers’ pepper the south shore, lounging on blankets, waiting for darkness. We film, wave, they wave back, stand up, curiously studying us. At sundown, they will walk into the river and cross,  ‘just like taking a bus.’ At the river’s bend there’s the usual colony of vehicles. As we glide by we see a boat tied to shore, where a bunch of young guys surround beer coolers. Two older, serious looking middle-aged men with binoculars stand in the truck beds, glassing the north shore. “Birders, right?” she asks, wide-eyed. “Mebbeso,” I drawl, knowing these are businessmen waiting to move their loads. The cooler-guys race down to the water and dive in, dog-paddling like mad towards our canoe,  laughing and shouting something about “my woman.” Cuanto cuesta? Is that what they’re saying? We pretend not to paddle faster. Around the bend we find another colony. They’re birds, thousands. Swallows. They live in mud-hut cities, and here they cover a south-side dirt cliff and dart freely to the U.S. for grasshoppers to feed their babies.
At sunset everything gets busy. The witching hour. It’s the best time to be on the river. Up on the 30-foot bank of the north shore we see a tight group of silhouettes against the brown-orange sky line. Men and women with suitcases and trunks – Money mules. A dark speedboat appears out of the dim, racing at us. It turns into the bank where the people stand. They leap off the edge, tumble down the steep dirt cliff and struggle onto the boat. It’s amazing. They’re falling, running, and no one says a word. The boat roars, races past, and its wake nearly swamps us. To the south we hear splashing sounds. Like penguins diving into the sea for a meal, here come the replacements.

Now back to the rules:

3. The Border Patrol will find you, quickly.  They may approach for  your ID.  You will cheerfully offer it, if asked.  You will not dig into your pocket without being asked to.  Hands are Bad Things to Law Enforcement.  Hands draw weapons.  Keep your hands in sight. BP may accept or reject your ID.  Be happy with either.

They may cuff you. A little S&M. Enjoy. Don’t worry, ‘What goes on must come off.  You’ll probably be released soon. Again, be patient. Good humored. It’s part of the drill.

4. They will point M-4 assault rifles and 12 gauge combat shotguns at you. You will not act frightened or shocked, but continue in your breezy, chatty way (see rule # 8). You will ask them, “How can I Help?” And you will mean it.

The border isn’t being militarized, it is militarized. You are playing war correspondent. Accept this cheerfully. One plan: Read some of those macho-looking gun magazines they have at the grocery store. Yes, it’s bizarre, even repulsive, but learn about AR-15s, ‘Tactical’ shotguns and semi-automatic pistols. Know what each looks like. The Border Patrol is proud of their ‘Iron’. With a little knowledge, you can correctly compliment their weapons. Ironically, this sets a better tone. The BP are gun nuts. Gun nuts love gun nuts. Play the part.  Speaking of gun nuts: The smugglers are also a friendly lot. As they buzz by in their speedboats or roar by in their trucks, don’t look shocked. Wave, smile, and go on. And definitely don’t let them see you filming them. Leave them alone. They have a job to do.

5. Agents will chase you with vehicles  and  even helicopters. If you see a helicopter, speed up.  Being chased by a helicopter is fun. If it lands in front of your car, you WILL apply brakes fully. You’ll stop for  those flashy lights on their trucks, too.

Photo - Lee Basham

Entry, October 17th, 2010: They chase Jon and me with the helicopter again. We show up in a new vehicle – a jeep – and they freak out. If you really want to have fun, show up in a different vehicle. The blue and white chopper comes over the field at tree-top level and swoops right at our windshield. We spin around and decide to tear down a farm road. Jon is screaming with joy. I’m trying to keep the camera steady. Boom! Another huge bump. The jeep starts sliding sideways. We brake and shudder to a halt.  Jon reaches down and produces a beer can. He cracks it, “Going down in style!” I tell him toss it. He takes a swig and flings it. We gun it, the chopper’s chasing, 50 feet behind us, 20 feet above. Suddenly, the roar is everywhere. It flies right over the top of the jeep! It’s turning. It’s flying backwards! Right in front of the jeep! The speedo says 25 MPH. The pilot is gesturing wildly. He’s pulling farther in front of us, he’s landing on the road! Wow. Dust explodes everywhere. We hit the brakes, bail out cheering, thumbs up to the pilot! Nice! A BP truck is closing fast from behind. The pilot smiles at us, nods, waves and heads back into the sky. We compliment the agents on their Air Force. They calm down and give us the ‘Please be careful’ speech. Nice guys. We’re lucky,  we’ve indulged ourselves, but the video is shaky as hell. We try again at night on black top and it looks better – not as dramatic. The copter won’t come down as close, but the swinging spotlight is beautiful.

6. Agents will watch you from afar, sneak up on you and hide in the bushes, follow you, puzzle over  you. You will not try to avoid or interfere with this.

Yes, that sound over there in the bushes might be friends from the south – check for marijuana scent, Mexico has much more reasonable drug laws than we do. But it’s as likely to be The Man in Green, Mr. BP. Play peak-a-boo if you like, but keep it friendly, never too sneaky or aggressive. Your body armor is your smile. Always wear it.

7. The BP is where the action is. You will watch what they watch. You are Border Patrol Paparazzi.

 

Agents usually break-off their interrogation of you because something’s up, especially at sunset. See where they go, listen for the radio chatter; feel free to follow.

Entry, March 19th, 2011: We’re on the high Roma bluffs. Susan Harbage-Page is cheerful, chatty, amazed at the night view. She wants to drink a beer; I fetch some. I’ve been keeping my eye on the south shore, on the unmoving tiny red dot of a cigarette. He just stands there, cigarette after cigarette. I dub him ‘the smoker.’ The Rifleman up in the BP observation tower to our left is snoring. The long bridge over the river is lit by giant, gorgeous pink lights, hundreds of feet high. They cast amazing pink ellipses on the broad water below. Suddenly, the radio in the tower starts chattering excitedly – that gets my attention. The rifleman snores on. I look down at the river. “Aha!” I whisper to Susan, “Yes! From the south side! Boats! here they come!.”  Two inflatable rafts, stuffed with people and boxes, paddling across the pink pods of light. The camera swings on the tripod. I have them! Susan is hopping up and down. She starts blazing away with her new DSLR. The sight is gorgeous. The first raft reaches the United States. Suddenly there are male shouts from below our cliff. From the north shore, deep blue LED beams slice angrily through the brush, out onto the dark of the water. Women start screaming, we hear big branches breaking, men shouting, a child starts howling in pain, everyone’s panicking, people are running back into the river, the boat is pushing off, the second is turning midstream, people are dragging themselves back on board. The video camera is getting it all. Susan isn’t clicking away anymore. She’s motionless, astonishment on her face. Across the river the smoker doesn’t make a move. Then the red dot vanishes: Maybe tomorrow night, maybe later tonight?

8. Agents like polite, chatty, cooperative and friendly.  They like compliant.  These things keep  them happy.  You want happy machine-gun-carrying agents, not unhappy ones.  You will be all these things.

Yes, you will. No lawyer boy, OK? Not here, not now.

9. The agents will not harm you. Their concern is legitimate, their admonishments to ‘be careful,’ sincere. You will express your gratitude. You will be sincere. If at any time you get a bad feeling, you will leave. You will leave now.

Entry, April 10th, 2011: It’s blazing hot. We’re deep in the thicket, at the edge of a dune over-looking the river. Last week a van on the south-side panicked when we popped up over the dune. Jon had his telephoto. When they saw it they started running in all directions, freaked out, tossing all the product back in the van; they high tailed it out of there. I feel strangely nervous. Not comfortable. Something’s off. My eyes keep turning to the right. But I can name no reason. From the left a sweat-covered Agent suddenly appears in a cowboy hat. The Agent says somebody is sneaking up on us. I, the lone agent, and my friend, scan the brush intensely. We hear hushed, angry voices. On the right, there’s a metallic clicking sound? The agent looks at us, we look at him, and we all decide we need to leave. Immediately.

While I have the gravest reservations about the Federal policies the BP enforce, I suspect, along with a bit of luck and trust in the self, they’re the only reason I’m around to write this. If you need to film on the Rio, do it, there’s truth there, and the truth is, hey, it’s a lot of fun. But try to keep these rules in mind. And good luck. See you down by the river.

Borderlife, focusing on art and life at the river’s edge, is now in post-production. Our documentary is about the militarized border and how people adapt to it and subvert it. It’s the story of human creativity amid the economic, political and existential struggle created by the Department of Homeland Security’s response to the US/Mexican border.

Lee Basham is a professor of Philosophy at South Texas College, and an Independent cinematographer. His film, Joined at the River, received high recognition; the Omar Vasquez Case documentary is currently in production.

Rene Rodriguez: Sub-Trance Communication

Featured currently in the 106b Studio Space in the Blue Star Arts Complex is Rene Rodriguez and his show entitled Sub-Trance Communication.  A local San Antonio artist, Rodriguez is only one of the many up and coming artists to exhibit at the space in recent years.  The space, owned  by Artist/Professor Alba DeLeon and curated by DeLeon and artist Dustin Meredith, strives to bring in both student and self taught artists who deserve the spotlight and a chance at the crowd the Blue Star’s First Friday and First Thursday events bring in.  The artists (usually painters) who show in the gallery tend toward the abstract, at least in application of mediums, if not necessarily directly in the genre.  When there is an artist in 106b who is in a representational vein, they always have a knack for realism and detail while also exacting an amazing amount of control over the chaotic and ‘random’ nature of the abstract process.  Translation: realistic details and graphics alongside abstract beauty.  They also always have the personal control needed to stay within a deep concept or thematic presentation, rather than a collection of unrelated and uninvestigated ideas and works.  Rodriguez is no different.

Rodriguez presents us with several paintings, all on panels, of vehicle sound system speakers.  But not just speakers, he gives us the speakers as a physical means of producing sound.  The speakers, surrounded by clearly defined graphical elements (more on that later) and the occasional insect which, along with the repetition of the number ‘8’, is a recurring theme in his images.  The speakers are created in a realistic fashion.   Shining steel and muted felt float over the spray paint stenciled and splashed background.  We get a combination of washes, heavy brush strokes and stenciled half-tone-like spray paint.  The realistic elements, while forced from the panel by the abstract background, are locked into the concept of the series by the very same background.  Space taken by the abstract elements holds the items in an indescribably world, a trance-like void of brilliant colors and patterns.

The more graphical elements float in the void.  There are musical bars and notes on one panel, the repeated number eight (seemingly an icon used by the artist as a personal tag or emblem) and an immediately recognizable ‘speaker and sound waves’ icon seen on many operating systems, cell phones, websites, etc.  Again, these elements are afloat in the abstracted void of controlled chaos.

Two of the pieces stand out as being a different kind of work.  The panels, long horizontal pieces titles Equalizer 1 and Equalizer 2, embody the spirit of the project in a much stronger way.  The paintings contain no recognizable forms, no photorealistic speakers or insects.  No numbers.  There is only the visual experience of music.  There is, as the titles of the pieces suggest, the severely abstracted translation of an equalizer’s visual display.  Strong cubes and rectangles, bringing only a slight visual representation of the equalizer’s display and spray painted stencils of grids and dots.  Among the controlled elements is a dash of the uncontrollable.  There are spots of obvious chemical subtraction.  Perhaps paint thinner or a similar chemical was allowed onto the surface to do its work.  It was brought in to destroy.  To break the artist’s control.  This is an even greater connection to the trance concept.

On top of all of this was the sound.  At first, it seems as if a vehicle on the street outside was running its bass too loud and interrupting the exhibition.  But it never ended.  It just kept playing.  The bass, penetrating the walls and becoming not just sound, but a tactile experience, tingling the skin and ears.  The beats would change, the tones would fluctuate, and the music would continue.  The obvious ties between the speakers and the street-culture stencil roots are obvious, but the distortion and changes of perception are interesting enough to secure the show as an event worth seeing.  One is reminded of the recent UTSA Satellite Space show Ron Binks: Black Sites & Justin Boyd: Black Sounds which was playing with some of these same perceptual alterations (albeit a drastically different concept).  See the Glasstire article on the Binks/Boyd show.

My Examiner.com feed -  San Antonio area art and events.

Low World -  My Personal site.  Short Stories, photography, project updates, stuff…

Voices of Art Magazine -  an archive of my articles for VOA.

Flickr -  My photostream, includes works in progress.

Facebook -  For networking, art, fun and strangeness.

Google+ -  My profile.

LinkedIn -  Professional profile and networking.

The Joseph Bravo/Ron English @ IMAS; Background: X-Ray Guernica,digital print on vinyl, 12’x24’, 2011

Ron English entered the Valley of South Texas in full force and occupied the art community and its Art institutions, demonstrating his seditious creative spirit in three independent and simultaneous exhibits.  English’s approach is so pronounced that a distinctive, yet diverse, connect was witnessed within these three exhibits. South Texas College’s Visual Arts and Music Gallery presented the opening exhibition; the International Museum of Art and Science, (the most prestigious and experienced of the Rio Grande Valley’s Art establishments) presented the  next, and a new, friendly, inventive artist-run space hosted the third.

South Texas College presented English’s inventive satirical and subversive series of works that make a mockery of, and chastise, corporate advertising. English is timely, clever and ingenious with his observations that spank the hell out of their campaign jingles and tag lines. He targets immediately recognized corporate advertising slogans that seduce us with their fervent lies and deceit into believing happiness comes in a baggie, a bottle, or deep fried in lard and coated in sugar.

Ron English, Military Might. Digital print, 2011, STC VAM Art Gallery.

English’s brilliant propaganda of genuine reality changes a Miller Light Ad into a war protest poster. Utilizing the same font he changed the text of the logo to read Military Might, with a Jingle that sings Less Chilling and More Killing. And the small print warning at the bottom reads “Repeated exposure to violence may lead to psychological conditions such as post traumatic stress disorder. Veterans have a higher risk of homelessness and societal neglect after service. “ The beauty of the success of his parodies lies in the fact that they are humorous and accessible; we don’t shut down from their harsh reality, we see corporate advertising’s falseness and become enlightened by the veracity of English’s reality. His concern is to champion the rights of the common man, for compassion, empathy and fairness. True Patriotism often runs against the status quo and requires courage to question the reasoning behind many of the conflicts our country is in today.

He designed a poster with the likeness of a sneering insensitive Uncle Sam clad in a Red White and Blue suit, extending his arm with index finger pointing to a color gradient between dark brown and lily white, like a carnival sign that reads, “You Must be This Tall to Go on This Ride.” But in this version Uncle Sam was forewarning all passersby: You Must Be This Color to Enter the Country. (The gallery audience loved taking their picture next to this poster). English and his crew took the sign across the river into Mexico, set it up at the entrance to their Immigration and Customs Port of Entry and photographed Mexicans walking past the sign entering their customs office. And if that wasn’t ballsy enough he then set it up at the entry door of the Immigration and Customs office on this side of the river, again photographing Mexicans walking past the Snidely Whiplashesque caricature of Uncle Sam as they entered through the glass doors of the U.S. customs office. One can only imagine the perplexed and astounded stares this setup fetched. One of his crew stated, “Customs officials asked to see the work, gave it a worried frown, and passed us thru.” While in Mexico they heard the firefight that left six people dead less than ten blocks from where they had filmed. He then quietly traveled down the river toward Mission, and suddenly, the Border wall sported a Ron English souvenir – a Mexican and U.S. hybrid donkey, which due to its configuration, cannot function normally.  It is, in fact, necessary to participate in one of English’s secret art actions in order to appreciate how determined and daring he is.

While here in South Texas, English never let up; like a throttled wrecking crew he lectured, did radio, and T.V. interviews, filmed, photographed, shaved a horse, bombed the wall, and whether talking to a Diplomat or an art student, never lost his humble, gracious, interest in their creative endeavors.

Super-Sixed Ronald McDonald Piñata destruction at the artist’s space.

English’s event at the artist run space, Texas Naturally Surreal, was the climax of his triad exhibits. English examined the customs of our Border Nation and discovered one of our most popular symbols of established cultural entertainment, the piñata. He had several fabricated in the image of his most admired toys, Fat Super-Sized Ronald McDonald, Gas Mouse, Blue Bunny and his Mexican/American opposing headed Hybrid Donkey. Each was stuffed with appropriate materials that added effect to their meaning: Ronald was overfed with frozen French fries, and the others ballooned with red paint. This became a performance of surreal play, the collective of Artists Unanimous hoisted the piñatas, and English ceremoniously took the first couple of swings. The crowd cheered him on in a traditional metric Spanish chant of Dale, Dale Dale, in excited amusement at this violent theatre of bizarre piñata ballet, until a flood of colored body parts, seasoned with what looked like blood and guts, tumbled from the night sky and fell at their feet. English’s crew and the audience quickly destroyed two more piñata’s. Then he invited the audience back into the gallery to make ruin of the most prevalent icon of overindulgence, Fat Super-Sized Ronald McDonald. English handed the spiked staff of revolutionary reward to a svelte and attractive member from the collective, Artist Unanimous, to annihilate Ronald. She did so, swiftly with flair, showering the gallery floor with golden French fries leaving a shredded and tattered Ronald hanging from the ceiling. This aggressive performance mirrored the violence in our backyard – across the river in Mexico – and represents the hostile challenges we suffer because of our seemingly inept government, and consequential failing economy.

The International Museum of Art and Science, under new Director Joseph Bravo, presented English‘s tour de force exhibit, You Are Not Here. The title refers to the fact that only a few thousand people will visit the Museum to see the exhibit compared to the ‘tens of millions’ that drive past the billboards of English’s art that IMAS placed along the Interstate, plus the flux of English’s images on the IMAS website, links, art zines, blogs, news media, and you tube.

You Are Not Here – but you are here – the media is the extended information file format that English utilizes to reach beyond museum and gallery walls. IMAS set the standard for all three of the English exhibits. Bravo spent five days with English, researching his concepts, process and messages; the product of this interfacing labor is witnessed in a sublime selection and display of art. When entering the exhibit, visitors are immediately star-struck by the scale of the work – large billboard sized reproductions of his paintings printed on vinyl. The quality control English demands for printing is outstanding – it is impossible to identify these as digital prints until they are closely examined. No pixilation, superb resolution. The visual premise of these works mirrors that of a circus sideshow, English borrows beloved popular cultural icons such as Mickey Mouse, Barney, Ronald McDonald, Teletubbies and comic hero The  Incredible Hulk. In his piece, Mouse Mask Murphy, English parodies Mickey Mouse, who wears a gas mask, symbolic of warnings from our revered science community, warning of air pollution and it’s ozone destruction. But as a nation of unconcerned citizenry, we choose to disbelieve forewarnings of climate disrepair and air contamination, and corporate manufacturing refuses to curb its practice that worsens this calamity.  In the piece The American Infantile, a childish Hulk illustrates the intimidating expression of a child throwing a temper tantrum at the check out counter because mom won’t give in to his demands for candy. An immature child-Hulk is a clever representation speaking volumes about how we, as such a young Nation, wield our military superiority, often misguided with corporate interests manipulating patriotic discourse. The centerpieces of this exhibit – two takes on Picasso’s Guernica – are magnificent in size: 12’ x 24.’  In X-Ray Guernica English reveals what could be an under painting- exposing the skeletal carcass of each figure depicted. He simultaneously pulls Picasso’s epic horrific of the Spanish Civil War into a contemporary context of the Atomic age, making us see the piece as the fallout from an accidental Nuclear energy fail.  These exhibits demonstrate English’s genius as a multi-tasking Renaissance man; agitate-activist Ad man, conceptual artist, adept painter, sculptor, filmmaker and a surreal performance artist.

The collaborative efforts of IMAS and STC under the bold and spirited leadership of each (President Dr. Reed and V.P. Jose Cruz from STC, Bravo and Board at IMAS), took a risk inviting this controversial agitate-activist artist. This partnership proved itself daring and pioneering, raising the bar and creating an Empirical Order for future exhibits coming to South Texas’ art community; we look forward to more. Bravo! Dale!
David Freeman is the Editor of VOA

In Gary’s Sweeney’s Take a Chance, presented at Three Walls Art  Space, the artist has recycled local political signs, cutting out and arranging the pictures of the candidates.  In smaller signage, written in cut vinyl, are the lyrics of the 1978 ABBA song Take a Chance on Me. The song plays endlessly in the background, its lyrics are repeated across the gallery’s walls in an assortment of fonts made for Word.

With repetition, the political signage has its formula laid bare. Blue backgrounds. White serif letters. Most likely,  a star somewhere. A photo of a blandly attractive person. The signs may seem like nothing more than banal popular culture, but it’s also our current debased version of democracy. Though an empty pop song and uninspired political signs might seem harmless enough, what’s really going on is the work of a machine whose purpose is to limit your options. It’s a coercion to force a choice between pre-selected choices you would not have picked in the first place  – like the same fifteen songs that are on the radio. Sure, I’ll passively accept an ABBA song on the Classic Oldies station’s choice the same way I passively accept the whoever the Democrats select as the candidate.

I  was surprised when I saw the artist use the face of a candidate that I actually did the design for. I liked the candidate and wanted to produce work that was well designed,  instead of the other generally bad work. Although as soon as she won the primary, the campaign’s graphics were turned over to the political party’s machine to look more like what was being produced by everyone else with design as formulaic as an insipid pop song.

Sweeney is a master of re-appropriation. His most well-known works are public art, in the main parking lot of the San Antonio Museum of Art and at the Denver and San Antonio airports. In these pieces, 20th century lettering and signage are chopped up and reassembled and collaged.  Those pieces work because the scale of the signage and outdoor lettering work for large public spaces. Though the boldness and flatness of the pieces gave the space something of a closed  feeling, the size of the gallery space works fine for both these pieces and the message. The viewer walks in and takes in the color, text and sound experience in the small area for about the length of the song and it works.  I think at a public level, however, at the same scale in the outdoor environment  that  the source elements are designed for, it would be something more than what’s on the walls of the gallery. Free the signs, Gary.

Just down the hall from Sweeney in the Cactus Bra art space is Sabra Booth’s short film Slick. The animation is a retelling of the BP oil disaster. Booth finger-paints with oil and petroleum jelly. This way of painting, along with her stop-motion animation technique makes for a very visceral experience. Small finger marks rapidly push greasy, dark material in complex patterns. Hapless shrimp are couched in these complex gooey marks as they ooze material from their shiny bodies. The animation follows the animal’s journey from the ocean to the dinner table.  Clean graphic cutouts of a nuclear family sit around a dinner table, devouring the greasy seafood. The end of the animation promises another segment from this series. On opposite walls, Booth displays the props and actors that she used in her animation, along with elements from what looks to be the next monster movie chapter. They function best as DVD extras for a gallery show. They may not be fully realized pieces, but instead are an interesting look at what went into the making of the animation. Film and video can often be a sealed product, so it was interesting for the artist to open up her process to the audience.
With old techniques such as the stop-motion animation, finger-painting, and cut paper,  Sabra’s work has a deliberate down-and-dirty DIY appeal. It felt like a lot of whimsical ‘80s independent  animation, like Tom Tom Club’s Genius of Love or something more experimental out of MTV’s Liquid Television. Like Sweeney’s room, the piece is well-scaled to its small gallery space. The film is quick and graphic and people steadily cycled through the gallery, watching the film in its entirety. I have to say, I appreciate work that’s timed to a reasonable viewing time. When I uncomfortably give up on an interminable art video, all I feel from the piece is ashamed that I didn’t have the attention span to appreciate an artist’s 25 minute visual poem.  Slick is part editorial cartoon, part complex play of visceral gooey patterns,  and part fun animated funk.

Robert B Gonzales graduated from UT Austin with degrees in Philosophy and Art History. He is a critic, graphic and fine artist from San Antonio.

What are politics other than what we convince ourselves to believe? What ideas do we sell ourselves? Walking through the current Texas Biennial exhibit at the International Museum of Art and Science in McAllen, I was drawn to a particular work by Thomas Murray and Donna Sweigart. Murray is a painter, musician and Instructor at South Texas College.  Sweigart is an Assistant Professor of Metals and Jewelry at the University of Texas-Pan American.
Several female dress forms, mannequins with strange adornment, stood in a single row. Directly behind them, on the wall, were an equal number of charcoal drawings of heads; men with perplexed faces. The mannequins were naked of fashion save some otherworldly neckpieces created from a specialized plastic for rapid prototyping. The heads were on plain white paper, competently rendered, floating ominously above and behind the grey, headless forms. What idea was being sold here? What connections were to be made?
Walking around and through the work, a rhizomatic eruption of associations came forth – headless bodies, bodiless heads. The leering white male, looming over the female shoulder. Expectations. The recent beheadings across the nearby border in Mexico. The collage of high and low technology (the necklaces were made using 3D printing, the heads with familiar old burnt sticks).  The mixing of media and technique, tradition and installation. The nakedness of the mannequin and paleness of the jewelry as if pensively waiting to be adorned with meaning beyond the decorative. The participation of my own body passing between the male gaze and the headless under-forms, between the two and three-dimensional, the illusion and the real.  All of these were indexes to potential meaning. I struggled to make connections.

Later, in a round table with the artists, Sweigart and Murray, both native to Florida, were confronted with the question of how had their art changed or been influenced by coming to the ‘Valley.’  His answer: that work need not necessarily be influenced by place; hers: how could it not? Disagreement. Politics. Who would sell whom which idea? The obvious tension in opinion was felt in the charged space of the collaborative work. The ideas were posed, yet left unresolved, in tension. What their work did sell me however was time. I lingered with the piece longer than all the rest, and it in turn lingered upon my mind. In its ability to engage the micro-politics of my own relationship to potential meaning, what I sell myself, the work is a success. My hope is that future works by this collaborative team will retain the same freshness of approach and meaningful openness without getting too bogged down in the sale.
Rob Kolomyski teaches painting at South Texas College in McAllen.