Dave Hickey had a hell of a month. He announced his retirement from the art world to The Observer: “What can I tell you?” he said. “It’s nasty and it’s stupid. I’m an intellectual and I don’t care if I’m not invited to the party. I quit.” Then he quit his job at the University of New Mexico. He said he wanted to invent an algorithm that would spare writing teachers from having to read, “quires of crap.” Then his landlord smelled cigarette smoke and evicted him. And then he was gobbling steak at a restaurant when a piece of gristle lodged in his throat.
Maury Gortemiller’s work Do the Priest in Different Voices shows us familiar scenes from an unfamiliar viewpoint. The images in this series blend the icons of Christian epiphany and mysticism with mundane objects from our everyday experience, changing the backdrops of one thousand year old stories to this century in a distinctly American setting.
Upon arriving at a sharp bend in the river not far from the Gulf of Mexico, LaSalle decided this would be the spot on which the territory would be declared in honor of his illustrious king. On April 9, 1682, a large cross was placed into the fertile soil. Proper papers were prepared naming this vast territory Louisiane. It consisted of all lands adjacent to all the tributaries that flowed into the mighty river. The territory was so vast that not even 120 years later did men realize its full extent. He named it Louisiane in honor of King Louis XIV. The original spelling by the French, as noted, was with an e at the end. Louisiane means "in the realm of Louis."
Boyd Soloman is a man plagued by the desire to fly. In the first pages of Brian Biggs’s Dear Julia several panels pan over Boyd’s empty apartment and we see the evidence of this obsession. Paper airplanes. Feathers. Empty birdcages. Toy rocket ships. An empty window.
Ave Maria is a community that, because of the economic downturn, has had to change its plan. In Steel’s photographs Ave Maria is curiously devoid of what many would say forms the backbone of a community: the community members. There is a grand total of one person in Steele’s photographs, and upon closer inspection it is a photograph of a person watching a football game on a small television in a very large room.