Scorch your eyeballs on these radiant exhibits
SITE Santa Fe tries to extend its branches a little too far
I remember the exact moment I fell in love with moving image arts. It was September of 2002, somewhere on the upper spiral of New York City’s Guggenheim Museum. I entered a little room and there, projected on the wall, was Shirin Neshat’s “Passage,” an approximately 12-minute film depicting the funeral processions of Iranian men and women. I happened to walk into the screening room just at the beginning of the film and sat through it twice, unable to articulate what I had just seen and felt. Afterward, I wandered through the rest of the exhibition Moving Pictures in something of a daze.
Micro art space gets touchy-feely with a hard-to-find art book
Imagine a tiny building in a parking lot. Inside its one small, concrete room, there are dark, military green walls on three sides. A lighter, more industrial green wall sits opposite a glass door and a large window. There is no electricity, despite wires hanging from the ceiling, and no water, though there is a pipe coming up from the floor that looks a bit like an outdoor spigot.
Two art lovers, four hours, six art openings
Our mission: To embark on an art binge throughout Albuquerque on First Friday with nothing but open minds, a 1997 Honda Civic, a pack of cigarettes and a few bottles of water. We found scenesters, an old friend (Hi, Kenneth!), lots of cheese and some unexpectedly awesome artwork. Minds were blown, wine was drunk, and we returned home exhausted and fulfilled. This is the journey:
You’ll actually want to go to the hospital. Really.
“My children.” That’s what Dr. Jonathan Abrams calls the the gangster crouching in a silver gelatin print, the frail lilacs rendered with watercolor, the photo of a caped gray dog emerging from the water. Abrams is an art collector and emeritus professor of medicine at UNM Hospital, and he thinks of the all the artworks he has acquired over the years as his babies.