Space Coyotes? Oh My God, Those Are Space Coyotes
On Wednesday, I walked into The Normal Gallery in Barelas to view Scott Williams’ installation With Great Abandon. “Man,” I said with a good deal of exasperation. “That is some weird shit right there.” Williams laughed and said, “That’s the reaction I like.” Scott has placed two space coyotes, yes, space coyotes, in the middle of the gallery. Two stuffed coyote heads have been retrofitted to Williams’ handcrafted astronaut bodies. They’re shaking hands, but eyeing each other suspiciously. I don’t know if there is any way to make stuffed coyote heads eye one another suspiciously or if they do that naturally. Either way, they made my day. Scott said he’s making a statement on the fear people have that humanity won’t survive. He looks at the coyote as a symbol of survival; they flourish even when other species are in decline. Scott is holding out hope for people. Personally, I think we’re doomed, but that’s why Scott is an artist and I’m a writer. You must go see these coyotes. Come between 1 and 4 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays through Oct. 24, or by appointment. Scott can be reached at 908-5526. The gallery is located at 1514 Fourth Street SW. They have a cat.
I Fall to Pieces (When I Go To Musical Theater)
A Closer Walk with Patsy Cline brings the music of a country master to Rodey Theatre
A Closer Walk with Patsy Cline is more a concert than a piece of theater. Its nearly two-hour run time (intermission included) consists almost entirely of songs by the titular singer, performed by Laurie Finnegan. This isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s very good. A Closer Walk is a well-polished piece suited for a city larger than ours; it will blow the dust off your sense of nostalgia and leave you with a bittersweet glow.
Downtown Books Good; Multinational Fascist Bookstore Chain Bad
A nondescript building houses literary treasures
Independently owned book stores tend to be darker and more cavernous than their chain store counterparts. They are a source for used books rather than new ones, places to dig through stacks, search for that used copy of Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick or hunt for an Edward Bunker crime novel. They lean toward the eccentric titles that can be hard to find outside of the Internet but, unlike their electronic counterpart, don’t rob you of the joy that accompanies scoring a Richard Yates book after scouring the shelves. It’s easy to click on a PayPal button; it’s much harder to embark on a used bookstore rampage. (Those can last for days. Sweat beads form on the temples. The eyes strain.)