Too often we assume art requires interpretation. But paintings don’t need to broadcast meaning to be meaningful.
Over seven years, an artist watches a beloved forest suffer a “massive tree mortality event,” then gradually recover and become something new.
Biker rallies, rodeos, and other loud gatherings in the American South. Watch out for the flaming torches.
Photographs of communities existing around the mine dumps of Johannesburg, South Africa—defunct mines that were closed decades ago being re-mined for any traces of gold.
Paintings of divers, ships at sea, and Superman—wearing underpants or not—find common ground in quiet mystery.
Paintings of peculiar worlds where butterflies sizzle in frying pans. The more you pay attention, the less you’ll understand.
The staff choose their most-liked pieces published in 2014: a painting expedition through the Underground Railroad, a personal memory of Vivian Maier, and a restaurant review that isn’t a restaurant review.
At an Elvis festival in rural Canada, scores of tribute artists (not “impersonators”) pay homage to the King. When searching for the meaning of it all, try not to overthink it.
Female subjects painted in classics by Old Masters—Diana After the Hunt, The Rape of Europa—get their voices restored, and with them new narratives and powers.
Twice the official portraitist of George W. Bush, painter Robert Anderson explains what it’s like to build a relationship with a president, separate the man from the legacy, and struggle with his smirk.
Paintings made from commercial cassette tape can’t help but embrace a sense of decay that’s inherent to the material.
Writers who haven’t quit their day jobs, who cram in the writing hours around full-time work, discuss juggling office life, family, and creativity.