Sun Ra’s stanzas are riddles against passive reading.
Churchman seems to be painting as a way to better comprehend his subjects; the canvases feel like dedications, striving to embody someone or something’s true nature.
The Moon Represents My Heart looks at Chinese American musicians who picked up the culture they lost and re-shaped it into something new.
Looking at each of Cayetano Ferrer’s works is like waiting for a photograph to come into focus, or retelling an old story and making up bits for the parts you’ve forgotten.
Myles’s photographs don’t feel precious at all, though there is something relentlessly intimate in their flat-footed irreverence.
The building, which opened this past weekend, appears to mirror the experimental, process-driven practice of drawing.
Whitten’s paintings pay homage to his influences, including artists and close family. He thought of his works as “gifts” — personal dedications that reveal his subjects’ nuances and edges.
Harry Gamboa Jr. started this series in 1991, after hearing an announcement on his car radio that warned: “Be on the lookout for a Chicano male. He is dangerous.”
Rafa Esparza and other local artists have been making garments at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, and recently showcased them in a parade in the city’s fashion district.
A survey show at the Whitney Museum of American Art asserts ideas about the collapse of time in spaces natural and constructed.
A large survey exhibition comprehensively traces the internet’s influence on artistic practice since 1989, uneasily and unexpectedly revealing how it can subsume both the art and its viewing contexts.
SEX, an exhibition at Chicago’s Lawrence & Clark gallery, challenged me to reckon with the cultural inheritance of my Taiwanese American upbringing.