It’s an interesting undertaking, to set out on what you are doing without knowing what it is.
Hills Snyder
Hills Snyder
Lubbock native Hills Snyder lives in Magdalena, New Mexico. He is an artist, curator, musician, and Director of kind of a small array. You are invited to follow his writing at https://linktr.ee/hillssnyder
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The unseen possibility lies like a snake that has swallowed a yard stick, pointing due north as would a prophecy, or the lost needle of a compass.
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It’s a true paradox: objects and events get larger under indirect observation, as if memory and imagination were themselves the sixth sense.
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The introduction of a new travelogue serial narrative by San Antonio artist Hills Snyder.
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"I live in a world that cannot afford the luxury of progress. There are so few homes where the buffalo roam that they discontinued the nickel."
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Jesse Amado calls on many forms and precedents for his current show — Pop art, Minimalism, Color Field painting, Conceptual art—as well as his recent experiences with illness and treatment.
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A telling image of a young Doug sitting on the bumper of a 1941 Buick Roadmaster holding his Gibson ES175: he’s already brimming with confidence and charisma — He knew he had it.
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Just two weeks ago, it was reported in the Wall Street Journal (Sunday, Jan 3 -4, p. D11), that “Text as Decor” is, as of now, passé. Not that Jeff Wheeler and Maisie Alford care.
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The remains of sea urchins and lost vinyl LPs become memorials to lost signals, disappearing space probes, fading heartbeats in Dario Robleto’s installation at the Menil Collection.
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Chris Sauter, like Jesus, invites you to stick your hand in a hole. His inter-related projects examine the false dichotomies between religion and science.
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Hills Snyder visits Ivor Shearer's haunting real world re-shooting of The Road: "You are left with that which cannot be escaped. And it follows you out the door."
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1. What’s your favorite merit badge? My favorite merit badge was the “Fingerprinting” badge, which I’m sure they don’t even have anymore. My father was a detective and gave me…
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The Program Will Begin Shortly… Silence is Toby Kamps’ first major exhibition at The Menil Collection since becoming curator of modern and contemporary art two years ago. You should not…
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ArticleReview
Something This Way Comes: Randy Wallace’s “Postdimensionalman”
by Hills Snyderby Hills SnyderI’m a lucky guy. I’ve already outlived Doc Holliday by twenty-four years and just the other day I came upon a new Randy Wallace piece, Postdimensionalman, at Trinity University in…
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Just days after Chuck Ramirez’s death in early November 2010, Glasstire approached me to write a remembrance of him. My first impulse was that this should be told in group…
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For The Trees Matthew Ronay’s Between The Worlds, at the Hudson (Show)Room, Artpace, appears alternately rooted and nomadic. Yurt, grotto, hall of mirrors, night wood, it beckons a walk through…
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Next morning in Marfa I mail a sixth postcard to Jens Hoffmann. A funny ratio you might say to the two postcards he kept, especially considering that I also sent…
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I can sense the Hermes assist as I cross into New Mexico. Out here they call him Coyote. He’s a kind of fellow traveler for me and has provided joy,…
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Thursday morning Jeff and I head into Lubbock in separate cars. He’ll go east to Dallas for a Texas Artists Today book signing and I’ll go north, but first we…
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Fell asleep last night thinking how I had the Lone Ranger flashlight with me and didn’t think to use it. As if it were a different sort of object, than…