I am drawn in by landscapes familiar to this fictional home; images of Southern suburbia in autumn beckon associations of Halloween, trickery, and the all-too-familiar damp heat that brings creatures to the surface.

Foster shows the warping of history and the heroism that can so easily be clung to when reflecting on bloodline lineage.

The friction behind what makes this place home and what can make it feel threatening can be found in the places where our inherent natures go against Southern hegemony – a hegemony made up of whiteness, hetero- and cis-normativity, and Christianity.

I have a tendency to hold things back, to wait for the right moment. In Japan, I observed a deep respect for process and for work that is still evolving. Seeing others who took initiative to start their projects, exhibitions, or galleries inspired me.

I step into the clear, caustic night and realize that’s what this whole event has been: a dispatch from some place of harmony we all sense but struggle so mightily to attain.

Anderson’s visual language of strain and suspended motion reveals a carcass of American idealism. Repetition that persists without momentum builds an irresolvable tension that grinds hollow promises of prosperity into trails of burning rubber and collective exhaustion. 

The dancers shuddered and convulsed, breathing life into the harrowing experience of the young Black girls that descended from the third-floor in the pursuit of new freedoms.

Cherry’s curation doesn’t tell viewers what to believe. Instead, it places them inside the storm of the last five years and asks them to sit with the tension.

Artist and creator Alivia Blade reflects on these ancestral images and long-held traditions of Black American culture. Her installation, Sanctuaria, on view at Snide Hotel Gallery, conjures a dedicated world for dreaming and rest, imagination and rejuvenation.

In Joiner's photographs, she memorializes the connections of home, between the self and family, acknowledging how fragile they may become in the wake of grief.

Displacement and the destruction of built environments is a violence that is often not described as such. This exhibition tries to depict that in a clear way, that this is a really real form of violence against communities.

In this moment of climate catastrophe, All Four Seasons in Equal Measure reads as both lament and plea: mourning the loss of biodiversity and climatic predictability while urging us to look and listen to what remains of the wild.

We are constantly bombarded with images that contain motives. With this exhibit, we want people to really think about that and remember that the photos they are looking at are constructed, maybe by a photographer, and now maybe by AI.

No Comply may be in retirement, but its spirit will keep moving through the city in the people who built it and the crowds who gathered for it. Thank you to each and every one of the organizers and for everyone who helped make it possible.

Peter Price’s debut solo exhibition at Snide Hotel Gallery, Third Person Omniscient, implies through name and form, an arcane tether spanning time and space, cast and narrator.

Working with what is likely the smallest spending pool in the region, House of Anguish sculpts in cobweb and bone a model for populist, public art. With experiential arts spaces, or selfie museums as derided, pumping blood into the contemporary gallery scene, the haunted house remains a silent type-O donor.

A patriotic mermaid, leather daddy Santa, and a drag queen easter egg all walk into an art gallery. The result? An overwhelming immersion into the world of Kentucky’s LGBTQ history, seen through the eyes of queer artist Feather Chiaverini.

The coastal aesthetic is shifting–like the barrier islands it is modeled after–from that of a reflection of the outdoors to merely a memory. The body, anonymous and in a state of stillness (whether by leisure or illness–reasons are unclear) is a reminder of our impermanence on this planet, and, oddly, it feels comforting.