Beyond Bluebonnets: SAALM’s 95th Juried Show Reimagines Texas Landscapes

When most people imagine the Texas landscape, they see desert plains and cactus fields. But the Texas I know — and the one reflected in San Antonio Art League & Museum’s (SAALM) 95th Annual Juried Show — is far more layered. At times, it’s surreal, humorous, or even threatening. While the show opens with traditional scenes like Salvador Rodriguez’s Bluebonnets at Big Bend, it’s the artworks that venture beyond this familiar vision that most reflect my experience of Texas.

Installation view of Benjamin Ortiz’s Pig Stand. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

When I first moved to San Antonio, I quickly realized that the hip place to be as a young adult was the Pearl — which meant regularly driving along Broadway just north of downtown. I always felt lost until I saw the sign for the iconic and now-closed Pig Stand. Benjamin Ortiz freezes that location in the self-referential title, Pig Stand, and reflects on this bit of San Antonio history with humor. One part of the signage reads “Open 24 Hours,” while another states “Present moment is all there is - SW.” The irony of its closure makes the work feel like both a memorial and a gentle quip — a nod to San Antonio’s changing landscape; part elegy, part inside joke.

Installation view of Dub Weathersby’s Wasp. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo. 

Where Ortiz’s work offers humor and memory, Dub Weathersby and Jin Kim plunge into the unsettling. Weathersby’s Wasp and Kim’s Waiting for the Next remind me that nature in Texas isn’t always friendly — it bites, stings, and watches you from the brush. When I first moved here, the snakes and fire ants made that painfully clear. I particularly recall one of my first rugby games on an ant-infested pitch — I left the game with itchy red welts rather than bruises from tackles.

Installation view of Jin Kim’s Waiting for the Next. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Weathersby’s digital collage places a Baroque-style portrait of a woman in an unidentifiable landscape. A heron stands oddly in the mid-ground, suspended awkwardly between flight and landing, adding to the unease. The most disturbing feature? The wasp nest, opening towards the woman’s face as twenty-plus wasps swarm around and on her. This woman, who would not have had access to modern day medicine, is nonchalant in the face of danger, with an enigmatic smile reminiscent of the Mona Lisa. Meanwhile, the rest of us are ready to pull out Benadryl and Epipens. Upstairs, Kim’s sculptural work forebodes, as two child-like chairs, placed beside each other, hold plaster egg-like forms that are cracked open. I’ve stumbled onto an empty snake egg nest - I’m just waiting to hear a rattle behind me. It is an anxious moment of transition - a quiet shift from development to maturity. 

Installation view of Paul McCreery’s Lobster Claw and Jade. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Moving through the gallery and away from the unsettling works that invoke the poisonous and painful, the still lifes in the show remind me why I began to call Texas my home. Paul McCreery paints two plants springing to life in DIY pots — a Maxwell Coffee can and an El Pato tomato sauce tin — in Lobster Claw and Jade. There’s irony in the fact that while the wildlife wants to kill you, the plant life in Texas thrives and is diverse. McCreery’s use of humble containers and vibrant plant life speaks to the way beauty flourishes in unexpected places — a familiar theme for anyone who has put down roots in Texas.

Installation view of Nancy Gerfers’ Sunday Morning Chow Down. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo. 

Nancy Gerfers’ Sunday Morning Chowing Down captures a quiet moment of rest before the busy week begins — two sweet pastries on a paper plate, a full cup of coffee, and the comics (because who wants to read today’s news?).  For myself, I’d swap the pastries for a concha from Marine's Bakery or Panderia Jimenez, depending on where I am. Still, with the pastel pink mug and star inscription, I’m thinking coastal — probably South Padre with my family. The piece offers a quiet intimacy, turning an ordinary breakfast into a love letter to everyday rituals.

Texas’ landscape is diverse — not just desert and cactus plains, but urban playgrounds, killer critters, and interior moments. These are just some of the things that make living in Texas so unique. Texas, like this exhibit, refuses to be boxed into one landscape. It’s a patchwork of experiences — some nostalgic, some terrifying, many unexpectedly beautiful. SAALM’s show reminds me why, against all odds, I’ve come to call it home.

SAALM’S 95th Annual Juried show is on view through June 1, 2025. They are open Tuesday through Saturday, 10AM to 3PM.