Weekend Update 5.6.25

It’s been over a month since I’ve had the chance to gallery hop between openings. Between the chaos of March’s First Thursday and Friday falling on  the same week as Second Saturday, and the additional celebratory events associated with Contemporary Art Month, I was exhausted. In April I played catch-up with family, grading, and fiesta. As things slow down in May and we move into the summer months, I seized the chance to wander into the galleries and be inspired. 

My trip proved rewarding — my First Thursday visit to Blue Star Arts Complex brought new and different experiences from past visits over the last few months. 

Installation view of Rigo Ortiz's work at The Art of Rigo. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

I noticed Híjole SA for the first time this month, but without clear signage or an updated online presence, I wasn’t sure what the gallery was showcasing. The Art of Rigo’s social media was also quiet, but the bold, colorful work in the window and sleek setup encouraged me to step inside. Ortiz’s characters reminded me aesthetically of KAWS. It’s not clear if these gallery spaces have the intentional and rotating art exhibitions of Carbon Bloom, Un Grito, or Fl!ght, or if they are more market-based spaces like Rosemary’s Las Meninas, Blue Star Artist Collective, or Brick-based events — a display format that typically dissuades me from entering. 

Installation view of Karina Garanzuay's Intergalactic at Velvet La Vamp Studio. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Only open on Friday, I lamented my inability to make it to Carbon Bloom’s opening of Unbroken. Nevertheless, I am excited for the experience  and undeterred, and will stop by for Third Thursday as the shows close in two weeks. May is an awkwardly long month, and it’ll be two more weeks before the next First Thursday and Friday.

Velvet La Vamp Studio presented Dissociation & Reinterpretation. The Instagram post had me expecting an array of photographs,  to my surprise,  a mixture of sculpture and paintings filled the space.  While the darker, goth approach isn’t my thing, the sculptural fashion of Intergalactic piqued my interest, as  my current academic research has taken me down the path of ethnic-based futurisms and exploration of the cosmos. Additionally, there was a large,  unfinished painting displayed on the opposite wall - will it be finished by Third Thursday?

Installation view of Andrea Willems' The Weight of a Heavy Sky at Un Grito Gallery. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Un Grito featured the work of artist Andrea Willems in As You Please. Willems’ abstract paintings allow viewers a visual immersion into the unknown. Her work reflects the gestural brushstrokes of the Abstract Expressionists, yet it is markedly different as her titles pull from nature. In Willems I see  the continuation of Cezanne’s form through color taken a step further. Where Cezanne offered as optical instructions for seeing the forms, Willems distorts through color and brushstroke further to challenge viewers to consider the act of seeing and identifying. 

Installation view of Olivia Wilkerson-Carter's work in the hallway of the Upstairs Galleries at Blue Star. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

The casual visitor or passerby might not realize that Blue Star Artists Collective isn’t just a cramped, shared studio space for artists to create and sell work. They  feature one artist each month (Olivia Wilkerson-Carter) and a themed exhibition (From Roots to the Sky: Joshua Blankman) in the hallway entrance walls of the Upstairs Galleries at Blue Star. Wilkerson-Carter’s work combines two animals in a repetitive pattern of linoprint and watercolor, an interesting exploration of graphic design. Blankman’s photography offers beautiful moments in nature globally - but nothing distinguishes it from a stock photo. How does Blue Star Artists Collective support and elevate their group from craft to art?

Installation view of Nain Leon's work at The Blue Art Gallery. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

The Blue Art Gallery, having opened earlier this year, stands as middle ground for these two distinctive approaches at Blue Star. Visually bright and colorfully engaging, I’ve meandered through twice now. They have featured different artists monthly, but there is no clear exhibition theme, along with some lighting and label issues. Strobe lights right above the artwork and QR codes taped directly on the work detract from the work and dissuade viewer engagement. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the surreal and humorous works of Nain Leon depicting a cowboy dwarfed by Texas-sized Whataburger fries. His photographic practice switches from the absurd to classical still-lifes of frozen floral compositions. The setup this past weekend leaned towards a market-style, but I would have loved to see the focus on a single artist and an overarching theme. 

Installation view of Bill Baird's The Highway to Hell Norway (Neverending) at Fl!ght Gallery. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Fl!ght Gallery felt both nostalgic and futuristic with Bill Baird’s installation. While he is an active member of the Texas music scene and an active contributor for the Current, this was my first exposure to his work. The simple but thoughtful engagement with technology, visuals, and audio astounded me. The Highway to Hell Norway (Neverending) video game is saved on a cassette and played on a 1983 Commodore 64 computer. It was like playing a psychedelic maze of Oregon Trail - there’s no guarantee you’ll make it to the end. Where artists today use highly complicated, intense programming for motion-tracking grandiose visual effects with monumental movement, The Nava Cloud Box requires subtlety and immersion to enjoy as it runs off a Mac laptop. Baird’s work embraces and challenges the notions of evolving technology - where did we come from and where are we going?

Installation view of Chel Delaney's Cacooning/Cocooning at the Beacon at Midtown. Image courtesy of Katherine Deck-Portillo.

Outside of the Blue Star area is The Beacon at Midtown, featuring the photographic work of Chel Delaney’s collaboration with model-muse Maren Murray. The visuals and performance behind the camera recall Regina Vater’s Tina America, portraits of Patssi Valdez by Asco members, or Cindy Sherman’s Untitled Film Still series. Delaney’s work situates itself in the history of performance and photography as an exploration of Texas, female gaze and aging. 

Delaney wraps and unwraps  Murray from head to toe in a singular, length of white cloth lined with black - mimicking the metamorphosis of a butterfly as its name references Cacooning/Cocooning. The photographs from the performance result in a series of three, vertically hung images. Delaney removes color except for the pop of red from the cowboy hat Murray wears, effectively flattening the image; a striped, lined cloth in black and white, with only a hint of spatial depth from the hat. The reference to nature is continued in Eco Pod Concerns, where used K-cup pods stick to a cylindrical sewn fabric that Delaney fashions in various spots on her head. 

Chel Delaney's Within the Greenhouse. Image courtesy of artist.

Murray and Delaney have fun challenging imposed realities in the photographs filled with props, costumes, and sometimes nudity. The work that creates a pause for me is Within the Greenhouse - the only photograph that grounds Murray in a place. The tonality range is rich and dramatic like the studio based images, but the variety of texture and compositional arrangement emphasize Roland Barthes’ concept of the punctum. It’s raw, vulnerable - the Murray you would find at home rather than the Murray dressed in fantastical outfits. Delaney imagines the graceful and ageless quality of Murray in this moment with her face turned away - she could be young or old, present, past or future. In this moment, Delaney has made Murray timeless. 

After a month-long break, returning to the rhythm of openings reminded me why I do this work. Even amid the unevenness of exhibition formats and gallery structures, I found moments of surprise, delight, and resonance—whether in the poetic absurdity of Nain Leon’s photographs, the sonic nostalgia of Bill Baird’s installation, or the quiet vulnerability of Chel Delaney’s portraiture. As we move into the long stretch of May and into summer, I look forward to seeing how artists and spaces continue to adapt, experiment, and inspire.