Review of Mosh Now, Cry Later
- Elena Benavides
- Apr 4
- 4 min read
When I envision and recall experiences participating in a mosh pit, it is the exact opposite of a white-walled gallery exhibition. The alt-rock scene is characterized by constant kinetic energy and sensory overload through loud bass music, physical contact, and a dynamic visual experience, resonating in San Antonio’s cultivated lively rock culture. This includes a passionate audience and support for live music. Mosh Now, Cry Later contains and compounds this energy though its parallels in the visual arts.
The exhibit’s artworks explore the nuances of emotion within the rock experience, including rebellion, uncontrolled movement, and individual autonomy. The grunge aesthetic is applied through ditching normal artist labels in favor of writing the label information straight on the walls with pencil. The space also includes a listening room, where visitors can wear headphones and watch video documentation of local San Antonio rock concerts.


The first work that greets visitors before entering the exhibition space is Anthony Rundblade’s Pissing Fountain. He uses a typical drinking fountain with yellow liquid spouting out instead of water. The yellow liquid, meant to resemble urine, splashes and drips along the walls surrounding the fountain, which depicts the grotesque staining, visible blistering, and peeling of white wall paint. By altering the familiar function of a water fountain into a repulsive image, Rundblade purposefully discomforts the audience. He also shifts the gallery space to reflect the tone of Mosh Now, Cry Later by disfiguring the expectations of a clean-lined exhibition. Pushing the boundaries of the social norm and questioning the validity of one's realities are at the heart of rock culture, and Rundblade’s Pissing Fountain visually encapsulates that rebellion.


Kristy Perez’s Loose Lips and Isolate capture the energy of a mosh pit. Both works contain chaotic mark making, characterized by its dynamic textures and brushstrokes. The only identifiable imagery is a rendered eye and mouth seen separately in each of the works. This gives off the intensity of experiences in a mosh pit. Perez’s works transport me to the center of a crowd at a rock concert, providing a portal to an anxious, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled space.

Nick Hay embodies the DIY aesthetic of punk rock through his self-portrait, Dead Nick (AFTERLIFE LAMF), constructed of miscellaneous materials. The only physical connection to realistic anatomy is the use of a humanistic skull, while the body is assembled through plywood and wires. The artwork breaks away from the mainstream, an action typical in rock culture, and expresses the individuality of a non-typical corpse with chaotic wiring. Punk accessories of studs and safety pins are reflected through the bow saw blades, and strips of tape hang from the body, accompanied by exposed outlets zip tied to the plywood. One of the charging blocks has “nick” written in marker. Dead Nick (AFTERLIFE LAMF) includes instructions on a flashing digital screen for participants to “press the button” located around the area of the skeletons stomach. When pressed, the pencil sharpener on the left side of the sculpture activates. “LAMF,” meaning “Like a Motherfucker,” is an abbreviation used by the American punk rock band the Heartbreakers. Nick Hay’s self-portrait radiates confidence, and the title reflects his perspective on how he will master the afterlife. While the uncertainties of death conjure fear, Hay offers a positive and purpose-filled possibility in the realities of the afterlife.
While these artworks represent the ideologies of rock culture, visual arts alone have inherent limitations in fully capturing the essence of the genre. Rock is an experience that is meant to be felt, not just seen, and this exhibition - though visually compelling - does not completely immerse viewers in the raw energy and restrained power that define rock. Many artworks were framed or straight-edged, and the gallery presentation as a whole organizes the genre into structured clean format that contrast with its rebellious nature.
This reminds me of my experiences viewing religious works in a white-walled museum. These artworks were typically intended to be viewed in a church that provides a multidimensional sensory environment through dim dramatic lighting, aroma of incense, and auditory immersion of the sacred word and hymns. Combined, these factors inspire transcendence and enlightenment in connection to the ability to apply their full body and mind to their beliefs and visuals of religious imagery. When religious artwork is removed from its intended spaces, they are effectively sterilized. Without the sensory-overloaded atmosphere, the works become detached objects for artistic study and contemplation.
Today, curators have the opportunity to create exhibitions with connections to the realities of the topics explored with immersive experiences that engage all the senses. Similar to the effects of Pissing Fountain, it makes me wonder what type of connection could have been made if the gallery invited local rock bands to perform in the space, or even changed the lighting to include dramatic spot lights. These additions could have amplified the raw, visceral energy of the exhibit, creating a more immersive and dynamic experience that would not only engage the audience’s senses but also evoke a deeper emotional response, blurring the lines between art, music, and performance.
Mosh Now, Cry Later is on view at the Contemporary at Blue Star until June 8, 2025. On April 17, 2025 at 6:30PM, Justo Cisneros will feature a performance as part of his sculptural installation. See their website for more details.
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