In playing with the tension between the visible and the invisible, Ellis’s work invokes a dominant theme in the rhetoric surrounding HIV and AIDS. The appearance of a healthy person is just that; it takes more than a glance (or a photograph) to detect a virus.
To visualize a constellation is to connect the dots, to discern a shape where none exists. I am trying to connect the dots here. This act is one of imagination and, if successful, manifestation, for all constellations are figments, even if through their shapes we recognize familiar narratives.
The major difference between visiting Glenstone’s grounds and hiking in a natural environment like the Blue Ridge Mountains is that the museum’s 350-acre campus is cultivated, even though the land seems to be utterly wild.
This strained, surreal, tragic-yet-impassioned relationship with love thematically underscores much of the work in Toor’s show, which focuses on how love—through the lens of a queer man from a Muslim cultural background—shapeshifts within the contexts of family, friends, sexual desire, and self-identity.
After ten years of bringing non-narrative and experimental film to Baltimore audiences, Margaret Rorison’s Sight Unseen series is coming to a close. The final three screenings are fitting, as they amplify the voices of many regional artists, Baltimore’s youth, and the complex beauty of the city itself.
I mistook a handbag as a sculpture during my first visit to Linda Campbell Franklin’s home in Bolton Hill. Though the first floor of her home is filled with art, there are no defined boundaries that separate the art she makes and the more ordinary articles of her life.
The city-wide triennial features site-specific work responding to New Orleans, the American South and, often as a result, issues of environmental, economic, and racial justice.
Anastasia Pelias’s sculpture builds on the mythological legacy of the Oracle of Delphi, suggesting we all have the ability to commune with a higher power and influence our futures.