Miro Hoffman

Sorry We're Sold Out #2 - Pink

2022

For the past decade, Andrew Blanchard’s work has volleyed between personal reflection and objective reportage. Blanchard’s screen-printed paintings touch upon prickly issues such as ...

Leslie Elliottsmith: "Faith can be a powerful motivator for some. Is this enough to change the story?"

Tales from the Woods is a collection of drawings and prints by Mark Hosford that explore humans interacting with nature and their unique relationships to nature. Mark Hosford holds a BFA in Studio Arts from the University of Kansas and a MFA from the University of Tennessee, Knoxville. He is currently an Associate Professor of Art at Vanderbilt University...

Paige DeVries is a New Orleans-based painter whose work examines the interface between people, plants, and the suburban environment of her neighborhood and city. DeVries’ paintings h...

"Shadows, 2020" is part of Kris Wenschuh's HOME series: a pandemic-era reflection of what home means to the artist.

Margaret Ross Tolbert is an artist from Gainesville, Florida. In her works, the lens of water is not only a metaphorical construct but an actual physical space we can enter. When we ...

Carrie Marill House Plants (Suite of 4), 2020 archival pigment print 14" x 11" (each) paper size (suite of 4) Edition of 10 Carrie Marill is a meticulous...

Kenny Schachter "Pay Nothing". Archival digital print on wove paper. Published in 2020. Edition of 60. Hand signed and numbered by the artist, verso. ‘At the height of Covid, various activist groups arose to protect artists and others from unlawful evictions for non-payment of rent due to their lack of earning capacity by an economy that all but ground to a halt—other than for the multinationals that always seem to prosper in times of crisis. One such grassroots advocacy initiative in April of 2020, was CANTPAYMAY which I spotted on artist Nicole Eisenman’s Instagram feed by way of a poster she created which proclaimed: “RENT STRIKE! STAND IN SOLIDARITY WITH THOUSANDS OF NEW YORKERS ON RENT STRIKE DURING #CANTPAYMAY. WITH MILLIONS OF NEW YORKERS OUT OF WORK, WE CAN AND MUST #CANCELRENT. SIGN THE RENT STRIKE PLEDGE TO JOIN THE MOVEMENT!” Pay Nothing is an appropriation of Ed Ruscha’s 2003 painting Pay Nothing Until April; though Ruscha attempts to disclaim meaning in his text works, it clearly references the loaded notion of having to pay-up in April, which is when both State and Federal taxes are owed across the country, as all US taxpayers are only painfully all too aware. “Says Ruscha: ‘I’m empty headed in many ways, and don’t know why I follow what I follow. Like most people, I operate on an automatic mode, and everything is an involuntary reflex. Logic flies out of the window when you’re making a picture, at least it does with me. And thank God it does.’” @tate In the context of the Covid pandemic, Pay Nothing signifies the fact that if a population is deprived of the means to earn a living, we still must eat and have a roof over our heads to feed and shelter ourselves and families. For, if we don’t have the ready capacity to provide, as Malcom X...

Burnt Place 03 - After the fire swept through, the forest was left scorched and barren. The ground is still warm and the unstirring air is thick with the scent of charred wood. Scorched, lifeless pines stand solemn and mournful in the shadows of the Burnt Place. About the Twilight's Path project: "We spend our lives surrounded by the security of possessions, relationships and roles, but our futures hold nothing so substantial; one day we must all enter into true not- knowing - into a dark, unconscious place." Jasper Goodall...

Riverside, limited edition photograph, archival ink, signed and numbered Reviewing the photographs of Julie Blackmon, critic Leah Ollman of the Los Angeles Times wrote: “Each frame is an absorbing, meticulously orchestrated slice of ethnographic theater … that abounds with tender humor but also shrewdly subtle satire.” Blackmon is a native of Springfield, MO, and her photographs are inspired by her experience of growing up the oldest of nine children—including five sisters—in what she calls “a generic American town in the middle of the U.S.” In college, Blackmon was introduced to the work of artists Sally Mann, Diane Arbus, and Helen Levitt, and she describes herself as “obsessed” with their images. “When my three children were small,” she recalls, “we moved into an old house with a darkroom in the basement. Like any mother, I wanted to take pictures of my kids. But I didn’t want to be just the ‘mother photographer.’ I wanted my work to be more: more penetrating, more artful, more striking, more thoughtful, more a reflection of the times. “Over the next few years, I progressed from making documentary black and white photographs of my life and the lives of my sisters to creating colorful, fictitious images that offered a more fantastical look at everyday life. My work became more conceptual, as I began to realize that I was not obligated to capture “reality” exactly, but that I could work more like a painter or a filmmaker, actively shaping the images I was creating. This realization—that fiction can often capture the truth more memorably than reality—was a major shift in how I saw the world around me, and it transformed my work.” “It’s thrilling to see the most common aspects of everyday life as potential stories or themes for a photograph. It changes how you see things: suddenly, a Starbucks employee on a smoke break, or an outmoded beauty shop catering to an elderly clientele, can spark a memorable image. As Nora...

Reviewing the photographs of Julie Blackmon, critic Leah Ollman of the Los Angeles Times wrote: “Each frame is an absorbing, meticulously orchestrated slice of ethnographic theater … that abounds with tender humor but also shrewdly subtle satire.” Blackmon is a native of Springfield, MO, and her photographs are inspired by her experience of growing up the oldest of nine children—including five sisters—in what she calls “a generic American town in the middle of the U.S.” In college, Blackmon was introduced to the work of artists Sally Mann, Diane Arbus, and Helen Levitt, and she describes herself as “obsessed” with their images. “When my three children were small,” she recalls, “we moved into an old house with a darkroom in the basement. Like any mother, I wanted to take pictures of my kids. But I didn’t want to be just the ‘mother photographer.’ I wanted my work to be more: more penetrating, more artful, more striking, more thoughtful, more a reflection of the times. “Over the next few years, I progressed from making documentary black and white photographs of my life and the lives of my sisters to creating colorful, fictitious images that offered a more fantastical look at everyday life. My work became more conceptual, as I began to realize that I was not obligated to capture “reality” exactly, but that I could work more like a painter or a filmmaker, actively shaping the images I was creating. This realization—that fiction can often capture the truth more memorably than reality—was a major shift in how I saw the world around me, and it transformed my work.” “It’s thrilling to see the most common aspects of everyday life as potential stories or themes for a photograph. It changes how you see things: suddenly, a Starbucks employee on a smoke break, or an outmoded beauty shop catering to an elderly clientele, can spark a memorable image. As Nora Ephron...

Slide by Julie Blackmon is from an ongoing series titled Home Grown According to the Los Angeles Times, Blackmon's images are “absorbing, meticulously orchestrated slices of ethnogr...