If Gonzalo Reyes Rodriguez’s current exhibition Survey at David Peter Francis had a smell, other than that of East Broadway’s markets wafting through the third-floor windows, it would be that sweetly sour stench of unwashed, slept-in sheets and stale dry-mouthed morning breath. A man dozes, his face pushed hard into the white-sheeted bed while his … Continue reading
A minuscule flushed hand with five chubby fingers sticks out of a slick reddened birth canal as if waving from a seeping open wound. A rubber-gloved palm grabs the neck of a splotchy greenish-purple head, its rubbery face smushed and eyes slammed shut with yellow viscous fluid running from its nose. Another grumpy face, this … Continue reading
Until dashing into Katelyn Eichwald’s solo show Talisman at Fortnight Institute to avoid standing in a downpour like an asshole outside of the opening of La MaMa Galleria’s Every Woman Biennial, I would have firmly declared myself anti-poetry in galleries (apart from readings or performances, of course). The poetry creep has been a long time … Continue reading
A monstrous gaudy powder-white Christmas wreath, adorned with silver balls and a gigantic red bow, towers over a full bar. The ginormous wreath is flanked by metallic cut-out stars, floating down from the heavens, caught by a single string pinned to the ceiling. Partially hidden behind the pine needles like an upstaged choir are the … Continue reading
Lydia Lunch has always had a voice able to shake audiences to their core. What was once a grating piercing howl in Teenage Jesus and the Jerks has roughened into a gravel-strewn growl that can be sultry and animalistic in equal measure. In November, I saw Lunch perform at TV Eye in the final show … Continue reading
Pigeons are rarely bestowed a place of prominence in artwork. Doves? Sure. But those mottled rats with wings often get a comparably short shrift. Somewhat understandably. It’s hard to celebrate the pigeon. I almost stomp on one every morning when I run as they stare up at me blankly like they forgot they have wings. … Continue reading
Bearded Amish men creating traffic jams in horse-drawn buggies. Shoofly pies, whoopie pies, and apple butter bake sales staffed by women in plain cotton dresses. Worn farmhouses adorned with painted barn stars. Wooden rockers and star-laden quilts. These are the quaint scenes that immediately come to my mind when considering the aesthetics of Pennsylvania Dutch … Continue reading
There is something existentially terrifying about American big-box grocery stores. Maybe it’s just me. Shamefully, I have melted down in more than a few ginormous supermarkets across the country, sniping at family members over muffins and abandoning shopping baskets in the cereal aisle in a panic. I know I’ve fashioned myself as a supporter of … Continue reading