“My funds are in Liverpool, not in Atlanta.” Any lover of the 1939 Hollywood classic Gone With the Wind will remember Clark Gable delivering this line. But why does Gable’s Rhett Butler, a rich socialite who spends his time lazing around on cotton plantations in the deep South of America, keep his money in Liverpool?

The answer is right there on the screen, in the clothes Gable wears. Liverpool was built on cotton.

Now, the city’s relationship with this most bloody of commodities is the subject of the Liverpool Biennial, the largest and longest running visual arts festival in the UK, the latest edition of which opens on 10 June (until 17 September).

The biennial begins at Tate Liverpool, which is built on the city’s marina and the UK’s first commercial wet dock, completed in the early 18th century. In 1759, a Liverpool newspaper ran an advertisement for an auction; the highest bidder could secure 28 bags of cotton, fresh from Jamaica. The clipping is now held in the neighbouring Merseyside Maritime Museum, for it is the first recorded example of cotton dealing in Liverpool.

By the end of the century shipments arrived at the city’s docks from Brazil, India, the Middle East and, frequently, from the port city of Charleston in the US state of South Carolina. The cotton had been handpicked by plantation slaves whose ancestors had survived the boats from Africa. The trade made Liverpool, briefly, one of the richest ports in the world.

The biennial’s title is uMoya: The Sacred Return of Lost Things and is curated by the South African artist Khanyisile Mbongwa. “uMoya” is an isiZulu word with a multivalent meaning; it can be translated to mean spirit, soul, breath and wind.

During an opening press conference, Mbongwa set out the ambitions for uMoya. The biennial, she said, was “an attempted return of that which has been lost and taken from those who have been silenced or forgotten.” The works on show are “emancipated practices” from “histories of duress”—the work of artists who have been “displaced from their native tongue”. She defines her curatorial practice, she said, as one of “care and cure”.

The artworks on show “require us to search our inner being,” asking the people of Liverpool “to not see themselves as an audience, but as a witness”. Alongside her curatorial practice, Mbongwa is a Sangoma; a form of shamanic, spiritual healer. She ended her address with a ritualistic isiZulu tradition that acknowledged her ancestor’s sprits.

Is there a lot of care and cure in the Liverpool Biennial? Frankly, it seems pretty punchy.

The festival features the work of 35 artists from six continents and 25 countries—15 of them have created original work commissioned for the biennial. Their work is displayed across 14 separate exhibition spaces, including what are referred to as “found venues”—makeshift exhibition spaces in vacated and derelict buildings that date back to beginnings of the cotton trade. These include the city’s Cotton Exchange, where the money exchanged hands, and the Tobacco Warehouse, once the largest brick building in the world, where the product was stored.

If visitors start their journey through the biennial at the Tate, then they will begin with the American artist Torkwase Dyson’s Liquid a Place (2021). These big, steel lumps, half smooth, half mottled and rusting, look as if they have sat in the water of the dock out front, weathered by the elements and only half visible, like a ship’s hull.

An adjoining label makes the explicit point that the dock—the very thing the gallery stands on—was built “to service and expedite the Transatlantic Slave Trade”. That trade, we are told, resulted in the death of 2.4 million enslaved Africans. The work, then, “examines the history and future of Black spatial liberation strategies”.

Mbongwa writes alongside that Liverpool is there to be “excavated—laying bare its history of colonialism, role in the trade of enslaved people and the making of the British Empire”. Mbongwa, then, has set her stall out: we are stood, literally, on problematic ground. She wants us to come to terms with it. The spirits of the dead are alive, but unheard. We must search our inner being.

Upstairs, we find the indigenous Guatemalan artist Edgar Calel’s The Echo of an Ancient Form of Knowledge (2021). Calel’s work, without meaning to be too reductive, consists of fruit arranged on rocks. Lots of rocks, loads of fruit. Jagged lumps of sediment, carrots, celery and peppers on top. A mischievous Cattelan-esque provocation surely? Apparently not. The adjoining label tells us that Calel’s work “acts as a form of resistance in the wake of ongoing racism, social exclusion and cultural erasure of Indigenous people”.

In Open Eye Gallery, we find the work of Saandra Suubi, a Ugandan artist working with salvaged objects, photography and performance. The series, titled Samba Gown (2021), is orientated around a flowing bridal gown, upon which messages like “women have no say in the marriage” and “men are like babies” are scrawled. On the walls, a stately African woman wears the cloak amid a landfill site; destitute people and shaggy white storks pick through the plastic waste close-by. The exhibition feels half-formed—a performance must have taken place in this forlorn location, but the photographs only hint at it. This is also, we are told from the top, is “a statement of resistance”.

Close-by, David Aguacheiro, a Mozambican artist, presents the series Take Away (2018). In its centre, oil drums are piled into a small wooden boat. The sculpture is surrounded by monochrome photographic portraits that speak of loss, dislocation and disaster. The work mediates on the “disguised colonists [who] wage manufactured wars to live rich at the expense of the people,” the artist writes.

I don’t mean to be flippant about the sincerity of marginalised or Indigenous artists. Embracing a diversity of globalised voices and working towards a better understanding of our shared histories are always, in themselves, good and righteous endeavours. Art is often a fruitful forum for discussing politics. We hold these truths to be self-evident.

But some of the art on show at the biennial is, nevertheless, problematic in its own right.

The first problem is one of fungibility. Emancipated art is today, a genre in itself; one that is becoming populated quickly as it continues to be platformed. Installations of oil drums, references to boats, woven textiles, ancestral garments, motif-heavy self-portraits—the truth is that many artists, working globally, are trading on these “histories of duress”, which means they run the risk of becoming derivative, overly literal and distinctly repetitive.

Suubi must, for her own sake, compete with contemporaries like, for example, the Black American artist Nick Cave, who has long used cloaks, textiles and clothing as a way of exploring his ancestry, identity and gender, or Rebecca Belmore—the first Indigenous artist to present Canada at the Venice Biennale, in 2005. Belmore’s cast clay sleeping bag Ishkode (Fire) (2021) stole the Whitney Biennale in 2022.

For Aguacheiro, he must try and stand shoulder to shoulder with artists like Lydia Ourahmane, who created The Third Choir (2014), an installation of drums used to transport oil from her native Algeria, almost a decade ago; it is now in Tate Britain’s permanent collection. Or how about the Johannesburg-based photographer Mohau Modisakeng, whose motif-heavy portraits of Black identity gained such attention when he represented South Africa at the Venice Biennale in 2015.

The biennial is also facing an issue of framing. When curators deal with complicated and confrontational subject matter, they often retreat under the safety net of a seemingly benign curatorial syntax. This internationally recognised lexicon, one taught at art school, often seeks to position art in ‘liminal’ states of ambiguity, or posit them as mediating on new ways of viewing. This language is, in fact, riven with cliche. And when these cliches are relied upon, when they are deployed liberally and unspecifically, they can have a crushing effect on the art on show.

This safety net is flung over many of the works at the biennial, from the strong to the weak. Shannon Alonzo’s Mangroves (2023) is a site-specific mural of Caribbean portraits, interwoven with mangrove swamps, created in charcoal in the basement of the Cotton Exchange. It is a beguiling, ghostly work from a young artist with a clear skill in draughtsmanship. Yet we’re told it is “a collective story of resistance, erasure, women’s labour, tradition and joyous celebration”. On the one hand; no kidding. But also, surely, Alonzo’s spontaneous work is so much more than this.

But, under this weight, occasionally the biennial sings. In the gardens of Liverpool Parish Church, the Nigerian artist Ranti Bam exhibits a series of curving, splitting clay sculptures; each has been created by the artist embracing the clay as it hardens before leaving it to deepen its form through its own internal physics. The series is titled Ifa (2021), a reference to the Yoruba word ‘ifá’, which means the divine, and Ìfá, which translates as ‘to draw close’.

The female form has a long history in art — but has it ever been depicted like this? The sculptures are left outside to deal with whatever Liverpool has to throw at it; the artist expresses delight when a passing bird evacuates on one.

The works, then, speak of youth and fertility, ageing and decay. Their presence in the garden of a House of God imbues them with questions of nature and faith. “Like our skin, they are imperfect,” Bam writes. “The Ifas pucker and crack, fold and fault with dramatic spontaneity.” That’s how to do it.

Liverpool may have been built on cotton. That legacy is still active in the city of today. But who are the modern heroes of Liverpool in 2023? The answer is: Trent Alexander-Arnold, a prodigious footballer whose grandfather emigrated from the commonwealth to make this city his home. It would be the athlete Katarina Johnson-Thompson, the daughter of a Bahamian man, or the actress Jodie Comer, a descendant of Irish immigrants. It would be Molly McCann, who overcame an abusive childhood to become a globally-recognised cage fighter. It would be Mohamed Salah, a devout Muslim raised in a tiny village in Egypt who has made Merseyside his home. The biennial struggles to acknowledge this resplendent city of today, and it should. Because, as we all know, time moves on, all too quickly.

KELLOGG –– A recent addition to uptown Kellogg business scene has many locals excited for art.

CM Studio and Galley opened its doors in April of this year and for owner Cassie Hoialmen, it’s all about bringing art to Kellogg.

Hoialmen, 26, is a North Idaho native, spending her youth in the Kootenai County area before relocating to the Silver Valley with her husband.

An artist herself, she quickly realized that the art scene in Kellogg left quite a bit to be desired and began putting together a plan.

“I’ve always wanted to open an art gallery,” Hoialmen said. “I’ve always wanted to represent artists and in this town, there isn’t much of an art outlet.”

Her goal was to establish a place that could feature experienced artists, give newer artists a place to get their start, and cultivate a sense of community for the Silver Valley’s art lovers.

“We firmly believe in the power of art to transform lives and inspire connections within our community,” Hoialmen said.

With 14 artists currently occupying space at CM Studio and Gallery, she’s got quite the collection on display and for sale.

Hoialmen works exceptionally hard to curate art exhibitions that force people to stop really take a look rather than just a passing glance – on her website she states that one of her primary goals and who she is as a person is embracing things outside of traditional comfort zones.

“CM Studio and Gallery is not just a venue for showcasing art; it is a place where creativity flourishes, and boundaries are pushed,” Hoialmen said. “Through carefully curated exhibitions and events, we strive to foster an inclusive environment that embraces diversity and encourages collaboration among artists and art enthusiasts.”

So far, Hoialmen says that the reception from the community has been a positive one – and in a neighborhood of Kellogg that was previously known for being a hub of business that is working to return to that, she’s happy to be part of that regrowth.

A ribbon-cutting ceremony on her grand opening was hosted by the Silver Valley Chamber, and attended by many of her new neighboring businesses – all of whom are excited for there to be another reason to come to uptown Kellogg.

“I really wanted something in Kellogg, Wallace has the Eureka Sally Gallery, and I thought something like that could fit here in uptown Kellogg,” she said. “I want to be able to give a largely unrepresented group of people over here some representation.”

Hoialmen has already hosted a few workshops at the gallery, but plans to do more in the future – including coordinating with her artists to see if they would like to lead the classes.

As new works of art make their way into the galley as well as different artists, Hoialmen will be regularly hosting art walk events at the gallery as well.

Open Tuesday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., CM Studio and Gallery is located at 115 McKinley Avenue in Kellogg.

You can also follow them on Facebook to see the work from many of the artists who are featured there.

Details

By Neely Bardwell

June 08, 2023

This week and next in Indian Country, there is an abundance of festivals, art markets and powwows.

The Indigenous Futurisms Festival invites you to explore the past, present and future through Indigenous perspectives. As well, the Redhawk Native American Arts Council is hosting its powwow in East Brunswick, New Jersey. Finally, the 41st annual Homecoming of the Three Fires Powwow will be held in Grand Rapids for a weekend of good music, and even better food. 

Here is Native News Online’s weekly round-up of arts, culture and entertainment offerings around Indian Country.

41st Annual Homecoming of the Three Fires Powwow
Saturday – Sunday, June 10-11
Grand Rapids, MI

This free event is taking place at Riverside Park in Grand Rapids, MI. This is the 41st annual powwow hosted by the Grand River Band of Ottawa Indians. The first grand entry on Saturday is at 1 pm, with the second grand entry at 6 pm. 

Indigenous Futurisms Festival Northwest
Saturday, June 9 – June 10
Tacoma, WA

Indigenous Futurism is a movement of art, literature, comics, games, and other forms of media that express Indigenous perspectives of Indigeneity’s past, present, and future. 

This festival seeks to explore, expand, and celebrate the regionality of Indigenous Futurisms. Specifically, how each tribe, nation, and community can foster and promote dynamic understandings and representations.

Over the weekend, there will be many performances, artists, activists, elders, and youth, all seeking to engage in conversations and explorations of Indigenous Futurisms. This event is free and open to the public. Day one starts at 10 am. 

New West Craft Indigenous Market
Saturday, June 10,  2 pm
New Westminster, BC

Partnering with Shop First Nations, New West Craft is hosting an Indigenous Market to celebrate Indigenous makers, artists, and small-business owners. Featuring over 35 vendors, attendees will get the opportunity to shop for local artists. There will also be an Indigenous Food and the Expressions of Reclamation Series featuring Indigenous performances like storytelling, dance, music, and art. 

New West Craft is a handmade market hosted by the Arts Council of New Westminster. They are also partnering with Buffalo Heart Medicine Healing Society, a local educational consultant group. 

Raritan Native American Powwow
Saturday – Sunday, June 17-18, 11am -8pm
East Brunswick, NJ

Hosted by the Redhawk Native American Arts Council in partnership with Taiyin Snowflower, this powwow will feature dancers and singers. As a spectator, you will have the opportunity to experience Native dancing and singing all while enjoying Native cuisine. Shop through local vendors will listening to the music. 

Indigenous People Festival
Saturday, June 10,  10 am – 4 pm
Seattle, WA

Hosted by the Seattle Indian Health Board and the Seattle Center, this is a free event that happens annually to celebrate Indigenous arts, culture, and cuisine. 

Featured will be Native vendors, various cultural performances and expressions, and dance, all in celebration of Native pride.

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About The Author

Author: Neely BardwellEmail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Neely Bardwell (descendant of the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indian) is a staff reporter for Native News Online. Bardwell is also a student at Michigan State University where she is majoring in policy and minoring in Native American studies.

What does it mean to be native Mexican after centuries of colonization? And how do those cultures present themselves today, despite efforts at their erasure?

Those are the questions at the heart of “Los Huecos del Agua” at the National Museum of Mexican Art. The exhibition features works by artists with roots in the native Mexican cultures and has traveled to Chicago after presentations in Mexico City and Puebla.

Artist Ana Hernández hails from Tehuantepec, Oaxaca, a city on Mexico’s isthmus famous for its matriarchal culture. She says she uses traditional techniques and materials that reflect the region.

“’luvia Dorada’” is a piece I did in a large format in which I used elements of the dress of a Tehuana woman. This is a piece that you wear in your hair. It’s an element that’s small, about 10 cm,” Hernandez said in Spanish. “Gold has always been very present in the isthmus because more than being an economic resource, it also transfers its value from generation to generation.”

“It’s a project that visualizes how the state of Mexico taught us how to view indigenous people and has erased the individuality, and particularities of each small town.  That’s what they taught us,” curator Itzel Vargas Plata said in Spanish. “We forget that they were like individual nations, where each one spoke in their own language, specific way of thinking. This is an opportunity to get into different geographies and touch on these themes that are very relevant to this day.”

Juchitán native José Ángel Santiago adapted the ancient fresco technique, usually used for murals, to create his work “Tremor en el Istmo.” The piece is part of a series Santiago created in the wake of the 2017 Juchitán earthquake. Santiago says the beliefs the people of Juchitán had about the earthquake’s origin are reflected in his work.

“After the earthquake, for various reasons, I stayed in Juchitán for about eight to nine months,” Santiago said. “There were many conversations with the community and people asked themselves why the earth had shook that way.”

That approach of respecting the perspectives of native communities is why Vargas Plata said the National Museum of Mexican Art is the right place for this exhibition.

“I think that should be a museum’s role: to not just say ‘this is the reality’ but instead with your community, create that dialogue and arrive at other perspectives with ‘common’ realities,” Vargas Plata said.

The National Museum of Mexican Art is located in Pilsen at 1852 W. 19^th St. For more information visit nationalmexicanmuseumofart.org.  

LA Pride in the Park

June 9-10
1245 N. Spring St., Los Angeles, CA 90012

The largest pride music event in the country — LA Pride in the Park will expand this year to a two-day extravaganza, taking place at Los Angeles Historic Park this Friday and Saturday. Global superstars and GRAMMY Award-winning queens Megan Thee Stallion and Mariah Carey will slay the stage as your festival headliners.

The festival also will feature an array of local vendors and LGBTQ+ exhibitors, a large sober space, sponsor giveaways, and so much more.

Get single or weekend passes online.

Splash House

June 9-11
277 N. Avenida Caballeros, Palm Springs, CA 92262

Head over to sunny Palm Springs for the 10th annual Splash House festival.

This summer festival series grants you admission to a house and disco escape with great people and tons of fun in our favorite desert playground.

The party takes place across three hotel resorts, and each resort is a full takeover hosting poolside stages, rooms and balconies that are all part of the fun. Desert days continue into the night for their After Hours series, where you’ll dance aside the planes and under the stars at the Palm Springs Air Museum.

Get your tickets online.

Janet Jackson: Together Again

June 10 at the Hollywood Bowl
2301 N. Highland Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90068

On Saturday at The Hollywood Bowl, the one and only Janet Jackson is back.

The celebrated music icon behind “All for You,” “Rhythm Nation,” “Nasty,” “That’s the Way Love Goes,” and so many more hits — headlines opening night at The Hollywood Bowl.

Plus, GRAMMY-Award winning rapper Ludacris kicks off a night not to be missed! All proceeds from opening night benefit the LA Philharmonic and its learning and community programs.

Annual Castaic Lake Dragon Boat Festival

June 10 at Castaic Lake
32132 Castaic Lake Drive, Castaic, CA 91384

Also on Saturday is the fourth annual Castaic Lake Dragon Boat Festival. Last year’s festival had about 500 paddlers in attendance from both youth and adults. Come out and enjoy beautiful Castaic Lake and watch teams from different cities, states and countries compete in dragon boat racing.

There will be different stage performances, including lion dance, live music and more dancing.

And guess what? The event is free for the public.

American Indian Arts Marketplace

June 10 to June 11 at the Autry Museum of the American West (Griffith Park)
4700 Western Heritage Way, Los Angeles, CA 90027

This Saturday and Sunday, join the Autry Museum of the American West for a fun-filled weekend perfect for the whole family. Celebrate contemporary and traditional Native art forms for the 32nd annual American Indian Arts Marketplace, where you can purchase one-of-a-kind artwork, jewelry and fashion.

The festival brings together dozens of Native American artists and tribes for the annual showcase, as well as Native playwrights as they regale us with their stories of being Native today.

Watch “The SoCal Scene” at 9 p.m. every Thursday on Spectrum News 1 and the Spectrum News app.

In a territory of wide-open sky, the earth is dark. A police cruiser sits ominously still on the side of the road. For Indigenous people, this image, titled, “Starlight Tours”, brings a wave of emotions over them, and a certain knowingness.

That’s the feeling Anishinaabe artist Mike Alexander hopes to capture by telling the full truth of Indigenous history with police.

A starlight tour is a practice of the Saskatoon Police Service in which Indigenous men were picked up in the city and driven to the outskirts to be dropped off. It had deadly consequences for Neil Stonechild (Saulteaux), who in 1990 died after being abandoned in a field by police on a winter’s night when he was 17 years old. He was left partially clothed, wearing only one shoe, when temperatures dipped to minus-28 degrees.

Stonechild was last seen by a friend handcuffed in the back of a police cruiser “gushing blood” from a cut on his face, and Stonechild’s last words to the friend were “Jay, help me. They’re going to kill me.”

Stonechild was one of many Indigenous men who fell victim to freezing deaths resulting from the starlight tour police practice.

Alexander is originally from Swan Lake First Nation in Treaty 1 territory. He grew up in Winnipeg.

“I grew up in the city away from the things that were ultimately the most important to me, which is that connection and bonding with family,” he said.

A few years ago, he learned he was part of the Sixties Scoop, a child welfare practice supported by Canadian policy that allowed authorities to remove Indigenous children from their families and place them in foster homes to be adopted by white families.

Alexander has been working to reconnect with family. His mother was Diane Weseen of Swan Lake First Nation, and his father was Norman Courchene of Sagkeeng First Nation.

“It’s probably one of the more important things on my sort of healing journey that I’ve been able to accomplish.”

The “StarLight Tours” painting was just completed at the start of June, Indigenous History month, and Alexander said “I do think that there’s plenty of Canadians that don’t know what a starlight tour is, and that becomes a gift that I get to share with them,” he said.

Now living in Vancouver, Alexander has been a practicing artist for the past six years, working in acrylics. He’s an artist in residence at Skwachàys Lodge, where he enjoys living among a creative group of Indigenous artists.

“My real calling in life is to create,” Alexander said. As a boy, he was always the one doodling during class, writing and drawing. When he was older, music was his creative tool in death metal bands. In the mid-1990’s he was in his mid-twenties and hanging out at the Aboriginal Centre in Winnipeg.

“I was part of the Native Youth Movement. Wab Kinew was one of us, and it was a very educational time for me in the mid-nineties.” Kinew is currently serving as the NDP Opposition leader in the Manitoba legislature and is being touted in political circles of having a very good chance of becoming premier in the next provincial election.

Alexander had already been aware of and interested in social issues, “so to be able to kind of place myself with a group of people that were really concerned about Indigenous rights was really critical for me at the time.”

That was when he learned about the starlight tours.

“If you ever wanted to get away with something as a cop, that’s a great idea. You know you’re never going to get caught. You’re never going to be held to account for that.”

Though never criminally charged in Stonechild’s death, Constables Brad Senger and Larry Hartwig did lose their jobs after an inquiry.

“The insidious part is that it happened—or happens, under the table I feel like in a lot of cases it’s really hard to prove,” said Alexander.

He contrasts the starlight tours practice with a shooting. “With a shooting, there is a legal mechanism that comes into play.”

“And even if [a starlight tour] can be proven, it then becomes ‘well, does anyone believe that it happened?’ And then on top of that, ‘does anyone care’?”

Because of “the attitudes towards us Indigenous men, there’s so many forces working against the person who’s a victim of that type of police brutality,” Alexander said.

“I think it shapes a lot of people’s view of the police, that they can’t be trusted. They’re not there for us. They’re not there to protect us.”

A land of open skies

During a visit home to Winnipeg, after living in Vancouver, a place surrounded by mountains, he was struck by the contrast of vast horizons and open skies.

“I wanted to try to capture what life is like back home. If we’re talking about land, then I want to talk about the land that I know, where Anishinaabe people have been for time immemorial.”

The sweeping sense of space became a main element of the “Starlight Tours” painting.

“I thought that if I could turn it into something that was really stormy and dark and foreboding of an atmosphere, that would really help tell the story of what is actually happening in the painting.”

Finishing the painting at the beginning of Indigenous History Month wasn’t intentional timing, but a good coincidence, said Alexander. “In a creative lens, every painting I’ve ever done has spoken to Indigenous history.”

It’s a dark theme and history, and it is a dark painting. Darkness is something Alexander is familiar with.

“I have lived in darkness. It’s a lonely, sad, angry and sometimes beautiful place to be, and I’m lucky that it didn’t take me.”

Alexander said he feels fortunate to have come out of that darkness, “and able to articulate that darkness, but in a way that hopefully comes across as beautiful.”

He hopes to articulate “some of the nuances” of how “people come out of cultural genocide in a good way, and how is that possible?”

Alexander said many of the stories shared are the positive and uplifting ones, and “sometimes the stories are an awful lot darker, and I think those are overlooked sometimes, because people don’t want to live in that darkness.”

If that makes Alexander the person to tell darker stories of what it is to be Indigenous in this country, he is ok with that. While his other, more traditional Ojibwe Woodland style paintings are at Science World, the Skwachàys Gallery, and upcoming this fall at the Bill Reid Gallery, he’s not certain where these paintings of darker truths would be shown.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do with them, other than to just make them and hopefully they will get to be seen by a lot of people.”

Art as medicine

Alexander feels his art making is “110 per cent spiritual,” he said.

“For me, it’s a way of connecting with my ancestors. You know, when I paint, I believe that my parents are with me.”

Daphne Odjig is a strong influence for Alexander, and most of his paintings are in the Woodland style.

“Odjig left those paintings for me to discover. That means those paintings are medicine,” he said.

They were painted with the next generation in mind, and “those are gifts talked about in our stories and our ways. I think that they really touch on the psyche in such a positive and important way.”

“I have a sense of loss that gets dealt with and resolved through painting. To me that seems like a fundamentally spiritual activity, a way to connect with people who I will never see again in this life.”

Mike Alexander’s art can be found at Skwachàys Gallery, and online at www.thunderclouddesigns.org

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Our critic says “Chosen Memories” at MoMA is one of the most stirring recent collection shows. The theme of change and instability is a binding thread.