Chipaumire announces, “Tired of fighting. Tired of running. Tired of fucking.” The hare bounding over the ropes. The Champion hurling into them, into the ground. Until he, finally, –well, no, you should see it, you should try to feel it for yourself.
Read MoreThe Colored Girls Museum contains harrowing levels of metaphoric entryways into once traumatized eyes of the black girl. This provincial ghost overcame dishonorable past. Oppressive chains and tyrannical rulers whipped flesh off back and placed choke hold on her mind, body, and soul. Now released yet not entirely freed from damaged control, she tells many stories inherently stretched through visiting artists. Their works adhere to her walls, sleep on her mantles, stand on her floors.
Read MoreWharton student, Charles Li, got in touch to let us know he and nine other Wharton students in a undergrad management class had organized an art exhibit and silent auction for CareLink Community Support Services, to raise awareness of behavioral health issues and to support the clients CareLink serves. CareLink provides services and support to independently-living adults with disabilities in the Greater Philadelphia Area.
Read MoreNearly any contemporary art excursion around Philadelphia in 2016 is sure to yield a wide range of styles and spectacles, but one persistent–if scruffy–thread is certainly the DIY flavor of many Philly-based artists’ work. At Rosenwald-Wolf Gallery’s exhibit Circa 1995, this commonality is not merely present, it is represented in local art-historical context through objects crafted some twenty years ago. This juncture in Philadelphia’s visual culture would help give rise not only to the ongoing careers of the artists participating in this show, but to a distinctive artist-run flavor that persists in Philly to this day.
Read MoreUpon entering the exhibition, I first confront a large piece of wood with Crayola colored letters spelling out the title of the show. The point of meditation. “The Sun is Just the Place Where the Sun Used to Be.”
Read MoreI lived in West Philly, at 57th St. There was a small ginkgo tree in the back courtyard. It was impossibly hot, I had no money and spent my time at the house, reading, painting, and dreaming of food.
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