A dense, menacing thicket looms. Green and pink stems, yellow flower buds, fuchsia seed pods and burgundy leaves intertwine, overlap, and suffocate the surface. Enormous industrial bolts, large wing nuts, and clusters of threaded screws — pointing every which way — invade the great mass of thriving, oozing vegetation. It’s…
Lifetimes are spent trying to tackle and pin down the constant state of flux of the human mind. Even pros like Freud, Jung, and Dr. Phil have grasped only morsels. The task is arguably impossible. But painter Mark Keffer accepts the challenge in his show “The Future of Heads” at…
“Josh Greene: Some Parts Might Be Greater Than the Whole,” a current offering at Arizona State University Art Museum, is a work in progress. Literally. Greene’s project is the second installment in ASUAM’s “Social Studies” series, an ongoing series of exhibitions — if they can be labeled as such —…
After watching reality shows like America’s Next Top Model and Project Runway, trash-TV viewers (myself included) may think they know a thing or two about fashion design. But the garments on display at Phoenix Art Museum’s “Chado Ralph Rucci” put the likes of Runway winner Christian Liriano to shame. Given…
“Eleven French Artists. One Revolutionary Event,” screams the headline for Phoenix Art Museum’s self-proclaimed blockbuster, “Masterpiece Replayed: Monet, Matisse & More.” PAM’s current offering is a traveling exhibition of work by easily recognizable 19th-century French masters originated by Baltimore’s Walters Art Museum and first shown there in 2007 under the…
This past week, you may have noticed a surge of bleary-eyed, artsy individuals grabbing their caffeine fix from downtown coffee shops before noon. That can mean only one thing: Art Detour. The gigantic, weekend-long extravaganza comes once a year and is equal parts art showcase and insane asylum — kinda…
If you’re looking for razzle-dazzle, interactivity, or anxious introspection in an art experience, don’t bother seeing ASU Art Museum’s “Carl Andre/Tim Hawkinson,” a bare-bones exhibition featuring four pieces of art by two sculptors from two different generations with two diametrically opposite views on the meaning of art. Putting these particular…
Greater Phoenix is obsessed with cars. Need proof? Take a look at that big, nasty brown cloud we suck through our collective nostrils on a daily basis. Last year, the Phoenix Art Museum caught on with “Curves of Steel,” which displayed rare and historic models (see “Nice Ride,” May 17,…
Whether you’re a Bible-thumper, enlightened Buddhist, or totally faithless, you can’t deny that spirituality has birthed some great art. The cave drawings of Lascaux weren’t the caveman’s version of a movie theater; they were visual prayers to promote plentiful hunting and survival. Aztec temples didn’t feed any architect’s ego; they…
Ask around downtown Phoenix, and just about everyone seems to have a story about Michael Little. He’s a painter by trade, but better known as a character — formerly homeless, now living in a house with a Tim Burton-esque striped tree in front. The guy once swapped a painting for…
Not long after I arrived in Phoenix, a strange site appeared as I traveled north on the 51. The Pots Along the Freeway were like a divine apparition to a suffering saint. First, I noticed a mammoth old-fashioned campfire coffee pot standing watch over oncoming traffic. Then I sighted a…
People go to the Heard Museum to see woven blankets, turquoise jewelry, and ancient pots. Joe Baker tried to change that. Although he left late last year (part of the near-constant game of musical chairs the local art world likes to play), Baker may just have a lasting impact on…
Living knee-deep in this postmodern world means a constant flux of meaning and connectivity. What was rigidly defined for previous generations is now a junk drawer of ideas, overlapping and blurring traditional boundaries. Just think of your baby boomer mother’s definition of “family” versus your own. She sees family as…
The Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art dug into its permanent collection for the sculpture show “Not Really So Simple.” At first glance, the pieces really are simple. But as I shared space with each one, I found myself wanting to fondle some of them to explore their properties. It was…
In his final exhibition for the Heard Museum, curator Joe Baker asked a group of artists to deconstruct their modern American identity, specifically, their mixed heritage. Baker is a mutt himself, as an enrolled member of the Delaware Tribe of Indians with Dutch and English lineage, and the 15 artists…
We wasteful Americans adore plastic. Cups, plates, and vessels don’t require cleanup after use — we can just pitch them and ignore the environmental ramifications. That makes breakables downright retro. It’s no wonder that ceramics has experienced a breath of new life as artists have adopted it as a legitimate…
Maybe I’m just a sucker for scandal, but it wasn’t until the recent squabble over the Downtown Chandler Artwalk that I became jazzed to drive out there. The East Valley Art Guild used to be in charge of the monthly event, held on first Wednesdays but rubbed out by the…
I have a vague childhood memory of being in an art museum while on vacation with my family. I don’t know where we were, but I remember approaching an old oil painting and sneakily running my finger over the rough, cracked texture of the dried pigment. I sort of knew…
Too often, looking at sculpture — spying on a silent figure unaware of our voyeurism — is a static endeavor. But the blown glass and multimedia sculptures in “Figurate Esto,” influenced by Catholicism, American consumerism, and Mexican folk art, are much more engaging. In many ways, the works by brothers…
Every once in a while, no matter how good life is, you just want to get the hell out. Sadly, many of us resort to booze and drugs for our mental vacations. But if you’re wanting to put the bottle on the shelf, good art can provide an excellent means…
When I first heard the title “But It’s a Dry Heat,” Tempe Center for the Arts’ inaugural show, it was mid-August and I was automatically turned off. In my sweaty misery, I was in no mood to hear any excuses for summer’s jerk behavior. But despite my surly outlook, I…
When I was 14, my best friend and I stayed up all night in her parents’ backyard, sprawled on the trampoline, discussing the relevance of time as we stared into the night sky and chain-smoked a pack of stolen cigarettes. While I don’t remember the details of this long-winded conversation,…
