Momma Tried Needs Your Help Going Cyborg

Momma Tried plans to make its first robotic gestures starting with its next issue. The New Orleans-based art magazine by Theo Eliezer and Micah Learned made its debut in print-only form, and issue 3 will also be print-only, but the sense that media companies banking on hard copies are whistling in the graveyard has prompted Momma Tried to factor technology into its future.

The Dapper Bruce Lafitte Takes on Basquiat, Picasso and Himself

Bruce Davenport Jr. first got attention doing diagram-like artworks that illustrated New Orleans high school marching bands in the streets of New Orleans. His pieces were featured in the great hall at NOMA for Prospect.2, and they walk a naïve/contemporary art line with a personal notion of perspective and big, geometric designs rendered in marker and ink.

What Are Prospect's Prospects?

[Updated] When’s the last time you heard of people jumping the fence to see art? Prospect.3 has passed almost unnoticed—it closes this weekend—while Exihibit Be got word of mouth and was so packed for its final day Monday that people who were shut out found their own way in. It helped, to be fair, that Dead Prez and Erykah Badu gave the final weekend of Exhibit Be a little extra juice.

"The Public Practice" Celebrates Our Lives as Tourist Attractions

I was amused on Saturday that Kirsha Kaechele led with her chin to re-enter the contemporary art conversation in New Orleans. She has been vilified as a wealthy art dilettante, and her activities timed to coincide with the start of Prospect 3 put money at the center. She literally put up $100,000 for a gun buy-back program, and the recording studio in a car wash on Franklin Avenue was tricked out with faux luxe.

Sundog in the Land of Never

Never Records opened with little fanfare, and it looked like any indie record shop. Big, flashy gig posters for bands whose names sound familiar lined the walls, and there were snapshots of the owner (you assume) with musicians who are famous to him, if not to you. There were half-filled bins of albums in plastic sleeves, and the guy behind the counter looked far more interested in what he was doing than running a store, casually throwing paper near but not in a garbage can. 

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