The work of Kat Reynolds, Lola Ogbara, Jen Everett and Eugenia Alexander illuminates their ideas about what is means to be a black women in America and how views from an outside perspective have impacted their message. Countering presentations of white gaze behind the camera, Reynolds has assembled this group exhibition entitled, "The Importance of Texture and Delicacy" to lend powerful voice to historically marginalized Americans, revealing an incredible range of vulnerability and insight found in art by black women in St. Louis. 

Reynolds explains, she wanted "an intimate setting of being a black womyn [in order] to cherish and have for a really long time, preserving that fragility." She cites the works of Wangechi Mutu as a strong influence for much of her interest in exploring the delicacy of blackness. Her series This Wasn't For You includes photographs of Sabaah Folayan — co-director of the Ferguson uprising documentary Whose Streets? — at the end of a long sweep of white fabric as if wrapped like a mummy unfurling black trauma in the strain of her weight and the pull of the material. Reynolds spoke about the need to develop her latest work on overwhelming womanhood through the continued use of tactile materials in the composition of her figurative portraits. Her photographs transcend the body language of the subjects with respect to their context in place, to offer rich narrative in their juxtaposition to the environment. 

Lola Ogbara while also coming from a background in photography, discovered the innate visceral quality of clay and chose to utilize sculpture to display the versatility of black femininity through her creation of gilded vessels. By using the luscious shapes of black female bodies, as though to command attention with their curves and folds, Ogbara gives thoughtful execution of their surfaces to reflect the viewer. One can notice in her procession from earlier to later pieces, the figures having less symmetry with more character, moving away from caricatures of the figure to more intuitive examples from her own life experience.

Everett's images from her Redoubled series connote both highly "personal to institutional archives that consider the photograph as an affective artifact that investigates black subjectivity myth and memory." Inspired by elements of sound, Everett explores the ability of the photograph to echo beyond place and time, exhuming images like a phrase repeated for emphasis and imploring the viewer to look again and ask, what they really see in this story. Everett restricts full access to the subject through cropping as a stance to shed light on the lack of permission that often occurred with photographing these human subjects in the past. By taking away detail, Everett points out, she offers less narrative but makes the story huge.

Jen Everett's work addresses questions about lack of knowledge to their stories behind some of these images with her relationship by noting that "loss can be a possibility."  She adds that in truth, she is re-appropriating again not just from the multiplying of the image but in her borrowing from sources that have already appropriated from unknown subjects. One of the audience members at the August 4 panel discussion likened Everett's process to the cadence in hip hop and reading music inspired by jazz masters that came before, both giving homage and remixing their elements.

Eugenia Alexander cites Frank Stella as fodder for her interest in geometric designs in painting before she came under apprenticeship of fabric-artist and art therapist, Edna Patterson-Petty. Alexander gives great respect to quilters as a tradition that requires enormous skill and patience. Her most recent works demonstrate this desire to be true to Petty's request that she find her own style through the making of Who Am I, large ovular quilts akin to African masks. The bodies are the faces, theatrical in their features exhibit a care in execution that invite the viewer to see the patterns of the West African cloth she uses. She describes in one of her pieces, that there is "no distinctive face features" as a way to highlight her having no way to know what her great-grandmother looked like and yet, her memory remains so strong that she is named after her.

In their yearning to address any gaps to both personal and societal black history, the four artists do great justice in creating art that weaves the viewer into their learning process and convey experience that speaks volumes of the artifacts to come. "The Importance of Texture and Delicacy" is on view thru August 24 at the Jill A. McGuire Gallery on the first floor of the Regional Arts Commission's St. Louis headquarters on Delmar Blvd. A closing reception will be held on August 24 from 6-8pm.



The art of illusion has been with us since there have been people who have had the desire to mystify, and people perfectly happy to be mystified. Street performers who "float," flimflammers misdirecting attention with fire, vanishings, or appearances from seemingly nowhere while accomplices liberate audiences of their purses (or watches!), mimes who create an invisible reality, optical illusions -- the variety of illusion is endless, and the process of making the impossible seem possible usually evokes puzzlement, awe, and astonishment.

The Fabulous Fox was recently the site for a showcase of illusion, with thousands of people subsequently leaving the theatre asking, "How'd they do that?!?" The Illusionists: Live from Broadway featured seven performers of varying talents (and varying levels of entertainment, IMHO) in a two-hour show. They had the old (fire eating), the new (add a mobile phone), the borrowed (from Houdini), and even the blue (ah, the double entendre).

The sequin-bedecked MC, Jeff Hobson (aka "The Trickster"), was smooth as a baby's backside and professional out the wazoo. Not only was he the resident comic (although most of the performers exhibited humor in their scenes), he was also seamless in bits such as watch-stealing, fire-eating, producing a specific folded card from his mouth, and was a master at making fun of people in such a way that the audience was not laughing at them, but with them.

Multi-award-winning master of card manipulation An Ha Lim ("The Manipulator") astounded with his slight-of-hand while handling playing cards. Although his initial act--producing seemingly hundreds of cards from nowhere--didn't vary much and went on a bit too long, his close-up work at the end of the show was truly impressive.

Andrew Basso's "Daredevil" recreated Harry Houdini's Chinese Water Cell escape. While amazing that he was able to hold his breath long enough to extricate (with a paper clip!) his handcuffed, padlocked, upside-down self from a chamber of water, it seemed somewhat routine and dated.

Outdoing Chris Angel with his tattooed, whitewashed skin, wild hair, and grunge wardrobe was Dan Sperry ("The Anti-Conjuror"). His initial illusion of "pulling a lifesaver out of his neck," was OK, as was his "slicing open his arm" to retrieve an audience member's bloody quarter. However, his second-act skill of producing a flock of doves that transmutated into a cockatiel was impressive.

"The Deductionist," Colin Cloud, was truly a master of forcing events and information to achieve a desired (yet still awe-inducing) outcome, but given he isn't really able to read minds, I think the content of his two acts were (amazingly) TOO perfect to be believed without audience plants or clandestine research.

Use of a deadly weapon was the purview of Jonathan Goodwin ("The Daredevil"), whose use of a crossbow revealed a definite skill. Without that skill two female assistants might well have required medical attention!

The illusionist with mixed success, in my opinion, was Kevin James ("The Inventor"). He sweetly astounded a young audience member with a dancing piece of paper, but his bits animating a set of clothing into a person, making "snow," and cutting a person in half seemed somewhat obvious and cheesy and less than worthy of "one of today's most ground-breaking and innovative illusionists."

Many of the acts required the participation of people pulled from the audience. But, like the show itself, the use of (we assume!) unpaid and unwitting assistants varied in level of entertainment success. This is always a concern for performers who need them, because, like a box of chocolates, they're "never sure what they're gonna get."

In all, The Illusionists produced not a rabbit out of a hat, but an enjoyable and entertaining evening of puzzlement, awe, and astonishment...How'd they do that?!?



After four years of increasing buzz and success, as well as a bit of national attention for the quality and variety of performances, the fifth annual St. Lou Fringe Festival is poised for another successful run. Beginning this weekend and continuing through August 27, 2016, the festival presents a diverse mix of visual and performing arts designed to inspire, encourage, and celebrate the artists and their audiences. This year's festival is not simply about enjoying the shows, but also exploring the arts. In addition to more than 100 performances from 33 artists and companies, there are multiple opportunities for creative self-expression throughout the festival grounds and programming.

Families looking for one last summer adventure will want to consider the Fringe Family event, starting at 2pm this Saturday in the Kranzberg Center for the Arts. Admission is $10 per family for an afternoon of interactive art and fun that includes a family improv class, crafts, face painting in the lobby, and a 30-minute production of The Diary of Anne Frank that's suitable for all audiences. Families with teenagers might even want to stick around to catch master illusionist Keith Jozsef perform his Unspeakable Acts or the dance performance Finite/Infinite.

Another activity for festival attendees is the open stage at the festival box office. For as little as $1 anyone can take their turn in the space provided to put on a spontaneous Fringe show. All are welcome to try out a new song, test their comedy chops, or emote in grand fashion. (Some families may want to stop by and try out a little of the improv they learned during Fringe Family.) 

Fans of previous festivals will be delighted to see some of their favorite local companies appearing at the Fringe, including familiar festival faces and a number of new acts from St. Louis and around the company. The Midnight Company, because why not?, R-S Theatrics, and Tesseract Theatre Company are all presenting works. There are a number of independent performers, including Jane Paradise, Ashley Hicks, and Sahara Sista SOLS to name just a few. A few of the shows are getting buzz already, based on rehearsals and previews. Among the most frequently mentioned are Count Time! The Life and Times of Patricia Prewitt, which was previewed at the Grand Center Theater Crawl; Boomerang Babies; Big Hair, Big Dreams: The Mini Donald Trump Musical; and The Selkie.

Seasoned theater veterans looking for the next big thing might want to check out the "choose your own adventure" comedy Or What You Will, Part Deux or the microtheatre performances. New this year, the microtheatre series consists of five 20-minute shows, presented in an intimate 13-seat space. In addition to scripted theater, the two-weekend festival showcases improv, dance, sketch comedy, performance poetry, cabaret, illusion and mentalism, though I've likely left something off the list. 

An important part of the St. Lou Fringe's mission is to encourage variety, diversity, and open exploration of art through performance and exhibits. Not every show is suitable for all tastes or audiences. Consult the festival guide, available at the box office and performance venues, for short descriptions of each show as well as audience warnings and considerations. 

As with every Fringe Festival, each show is under an hour, and 100% of the ticket price goes to the performers, with a $2 festival fee that supports St. Lou Fringe's operations and productions, as well as its continuing mission. There are also a number of festival pass packages available. To streamline ticketing, attendees can purchase tickets online at, at each venue (with cash or via smartphone), and at the Fringe Box Office. St. Lou Fringe is as social as it is theatrical, so plan to tweet and share photos as well as joining performers, festival staff, and other patrons at the After the Fringe series late nights after the shows. 

The St. Lou Fringe Festival runs August 19 through August 27, 2016. Each weekend includes a different line up of shows and events, and performances are under an hour in length, enabling theatergoers to sample a variety of art in a short time. With shows scattered throughout the Grand Center Arts District, most festival attendees will find it easy and convenient to park once and walk between venues. Attendee's will want to dress comfortably, it's August in St. Louis after all, though there are plenty of opportunities to grab a meal or beverage in Grand Center.



In 2013, St. Louis gained yet another cultural institution, adding to its already impressive collection of history, art, and science museums. After embarking on its largest-ever capital campaign, the International Photography Hall of Fame and Museum (IPHF) relocated to St. Louis' Grand Center district, choosing our great city because of the richness of our cultural institutions and deep connection to the history of photography. (I bet you didn't know St. Louis is home to one of the oldest camera clubs in the nation.)

Celebrating their 50th year of honoring photography, the museum's current exhibition showcases the important work of its class of 2016 Photography Hall of Fame Inductees. Names we may know well -- like Annie Leibovitz and Ernst Haas -- make up the cohort of inductees, alongside other familiar names that we may not typically associate with photography, such as documentarian Ken Burns and technology entrepreneur Steve Jobs. These pioneers, along with John Knoll, Thomas Knoll, Graham Nash and Sebastião Salgado were inducted into the Hall of Fame because their work embodies the spirit, artistry, and innovation of modern photography.

IPHF is for more than those of us who love a still photograph. Inductees (and brothers) Thomas and John Knoll -- co-creators of Photoshop -- and Steve Jobs, co-founder of Apple, are honored as inventors that changed the field of photography. You might also be surprised to find that English singer-songwriter Graham Nash isn't just a musician -- he is also a notable photographer and founder of Nash Editions, a fine art digital print company that developed a printer capable of reproducing digital images in large-scale, high-quality formats. You can view the 1987 version of one color printer adapted by Nash Editions on display at the museum. (And yes, it's just as big as you might expect.) You'll also find a collection of early Photoshop user guides (floppy discs included!) and a 1984 Macintosh computer to round out your trip down memory lane.

For me, these moments in the exhibit really demonstrate the museum's commitment to celebrating not only the great artists behind the camera, but also those who have influenced the field of photography beyond their skillful use of a camera. In addition to the Knolls and Jobs, documentary filmmaker, Ken Burns, is also recognized for his now iconic style of presenting archival photographs in films. Many of the newest Inductees are honored for having revolutionized both the photography industry and creative world in ways other than just taking breathtaking photographs. But don't worry: there are still plenty of photographs at the museum.

Annie Leibovitz's work as a photographer for Rolling Stone, where she captured many of the iconic celebrity portraits we remember today, can be viewed on display. Sebastião Salgado's corner of the museum boasts a small collection of his black and white documentary photography of Mexican and Brazilian laborers, as he is known for documenting a wide range of socioeconomic conditions that affect human life across the globe. Ernst Haas, pioneer of color photography, composed a 24-page, color photo essay of New York City for Life, which you can find arranged in his portion of the gallery. These eight artists join the Hall of Fame, which now honors 79 total inductees, including notables such as Ansel Adams, Diane Arbus, George Eastman (founder of Kodak), Dorothea Lange, and Gordon Parks.

What better way to see the photographic work of a two-time Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee, Graham Nash, pioneer of color photography, Ernst Haas, and the celebrity portraits of feminist trailblazer Annie Leibovitz all in one place than to visit the International Photography Fall of Fame and Museum? A hidden gem at the heart of Grand Center, the "Hall of Fame Induction and 50th Anniversary Celebration" exhibition is open now through February 4, 2017 at IPHF, located at 3415 Olive Street. The museum is open Wednesday through Saturday 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., and until 9 p.m. on the first Friday of each month. Admission is $5 for adults, $3 for students, seniors, and military, and free for IPHF members and visitors under 18.

Elizabeth Eikmann is a graduate student in the Department of American Studies at Saint Louis University. Contact her via email at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..


In its seventh iteration, the Great Rivers Biennial, a collaborated effort between Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis and the Gateway Foundation, showcases the work of three talented, emerging or mid-career artists based in St. Louis. In addition to providing them with a major summer exhibition at CAM, the Biennial awards all three artists a $20,000 honorarium to help jump-start their artistic careers. Juried by Anne Ellegood, Senior Curator at the Hammer Museum; Valerie Cassel Oliver, Senior Curator at Contemporary Arts Museum Houston; and Paul Pfeiffer, sculptor, photographer and video artist, this year’s Biennial selected from over eighty applicants. Only after in-depth studio visits between all three jurors and ten semi-finalists were this year’s recipients chosen: Lyndon Barrois Jr., Tate Foley and Nanette Boileau.

Bridging sculpture, installation and video, all three artists eloquently articulate the construction of identities, mythologies and systems of power through the act of their very deconstruction. In his exhibition Post No Bills, Tate Foley’s large-scale sculptural assemblages, Factions, and his twelve single-channel video work, Omni, both phonetically break down the language of protest, disarming ambiguous terminology and stripping it of often subtle, nuanced hidden meanings. Foley’s structures, wheat-pasted with risograph prints of phonetically spelled out words such as “VAH-LIH-TULL” and “SIS-TEM-MAT-ICK”, recall billboards by referencing the way language in the media, often formalized, maintains hierarchies of cultural status and privilege.

Nanette Boileau’s three channel video installation, Dakota Territory, filmed over the course of several months in southeastern Wyoming and the Black Hills of South Dakota, unpacks and reconsiders national mythologies of the West and those who inhabit it. Shedding light on the realities of contemporary rural life in the face of modernization and current agricultural economics, Boileau depicts scenes from live cattle birth to annual roundups and mass shipments of livestock to be sold at auction. Idealizations of the western landscape and the "cowboy” are re-examined as viewers are offered a much more encyclopedic view of the pastoral American West.

Finally, in Of Color, Lyndon Barrois Jr. deconstructs racial identities through use of life-size assemblages and the installation of an outdoor basketball court in the gallery space. The assemblages are composed of used toner boxes and freestanding cutouts taken from popular print-media imagery. His work pushes viewers to question avenues of accessibility and visibility for marginalized groups. Chief Curator Jeffrey Uslip’s decision to include the work of acclaimed artist Mark Bradford in both the front room and project wall serves as a nice compliment to Lyndon’s work in thinking about the political nature of racial identity. Bradford’s thirty-eight collaged compositions on canvas, Receive Calls on Your Cell Phone from Jail, exhibited on the project wall, touch upon issues of socioeconomic disenfranchisement, particularly towards lower-income communities of color. In one of his earlier video works, Practice, on view in the front room, Bradford desperately attempts to shoot hoops in a makeshift outfit consisting of a Los Angeles Lakers uniform and a capacious antebellum-style hoop skirt. Bradford is investigating how assumptions based on race, gender and appearance shape societal interactions and determine means of access and opportunity. Bradford’s work in particular offers a apt segue-way into Lyndon’s exhibition. I wanted to sit down and talk with Lyndon about the thinking processes behind his work and the methodology for carrying his ideas to fruition.

Seth Lewis: When viewers first step foot on the asphalt, they’re immediately forced to situate themselves in relation to these life-size assemblages or “players” within the context of the basketball court. There are obvious parallels here to Mark Bradford’s video piece Practice, but how do you see the “court” functioning in your own work? How does it participate within broader discourses on race, representation and popular culture?

Lyndon Barrois Jr.: If I’m talking about where courts aren’t, to present one in a space where someone’s not expecting it, it could possibly draw attention to the absence of where he or she would expect it. I was also thinking about my own relationship to courts growing up playing on them, understanding how formative of a space the outdoor basketball court can be and recognizing the culture that gets built around them is quite complex. I think about the AND1 mixtapes from the late 90’s, when the athletic apparel brand AND1 sponsored the wide release of these video mixtapes, a compilation of street ball tournaments in New York City set to music. It set the culture of street basketball ablaze. It was a move from the league, and a more formal relationship to basketball and made it this whole other thing. Rules were being broken and gameplay was stylized. Suddenly people weren’t emulating NBA players, they were emulating these guys who they can go to the park and see. And then even that became formalized and corporate as well. Still, that shift from the exclusive to the accessible became important in thinking about the overall culture of basketball. The fact that anyone could play the game became a lot more real for people.

SL: In relation to the topic of accessibility, how do you think the kind of imagery you are using reflects that?

LBJ: Accessibility as a concept is the main point of access in talking about the work. Involved is a series of parallels that I’m thinking about linguistically. We talk about art and museums as being public institutions that are accessible even though we know it doesn’t always function that way. I’m drawing a similar relationship to this court and outdoor courts in general. That in relation to these images in that they’re all found. They don’t necessarily require not only using photography but also an education or training in photography. All it requires of me is an attraction, or recognition of my own taste, desire and selectivity. In that sense, anyone could participate.

SL: Some of the imagery appears to be in grayscale, and some in color.

LBJ: Initially I had a hard time deciding how I was going to select the images and what the nature of the images were going to be. Also, how I was going to make the distinction between whose playing whom. We have concepts of uniforms. We have concepts of shirt versus skins. A way of organizing teams didn’t occur to me until I came across this writing by Michael Taussig, an Australian cultural anthropologist. He has a book called What Color is the Sacred? where he discusses color in the context of colonial history. He talks about the Western European aversion to color in these colonies. He recognizes that the indigenous communities that they are occupying have this embracing relationship to color, and it’s distasteful to the Europeans. He draws a relationship between that aversion to just color being worn or being surrounded by color in one’s life and this distaste towards people of color, even up to present times. He talks about color as a license transgression. You can use it, but not too ostentatiously. We still have this concept of gray/black, like neutral things as being more refined or more professional or elegant. When anything is too garish or too colorful it’s inappropriate. I think it’s an argument that’s hard to quantify, but I do find it a compelling proposition. I also see a parallel to black and white versus color photography and that these are decisions; we decide how much color we allow into our lives. I was attracted to both kinds of photography for whatever reason, but that was a way of sifting through and making sure the imagery wasn’t random. I know I needed a team of desaturated imagery. I needed a team that was more chromatic. Basketball is also about positions. It allowed for a kind of organizing system to position this versus that, but I don’t know if there is a protagonist or antagonist necessarily.

SL: In these very specific decisions you’re making in regards to chromatics, you very evidently reference CMYK print production. Both with the toner boxes, and the colorfully patterned pedestals that support them, you’re also talking about the broader implications of mass reproduction and visual culture. You’re culling your imagery from popular magazines and newspapers. How do these sources in particular comment on race and visibility?

LBJ: The film industry in particular reminds me of some of these issues. So often there is a lack of nuance in representation. There is a lack of nuanced attributes or characterizations associated with people of color. My background is in figurative drawing and painting. My early figurative work was trying to add a multiplicity to that narrative. I think that extends into this in that simply having certain things associated with me as an artist of color would sort of expand ones association of certain things to people of color. The sources I’m pulling from would offer a more nuanced view into what one could be interested in. I’m pulling from GQ magazine, which although has some diverse representation, isn’t necessarily a black magazine by any means. Also Martha Stewart Living, which is also not usually a source that would be expected. This work is different in form but still reflects a similar interest in what’s taken place in my past work. In terms of CMYK, I’m still baffled by the fact that these images could be made visible just through these specific dot patterns of just four different colors. I also think about a cultural parallel of four disparate things coming together towards a kind of resolution. That parallel to culture and society is so interesting to me.

SL: It’s also worth pointing out that even the supposedly grayscale images are made up entirely of these four colors.

LBJ: Exactly. I’m trying to reference that in those pedestals, sometimes those colors collaborate to make gray, for the most part they’re purple. I guess in the wake of Prince’s death it’s a welcome side effect. In emphasizing the dot pattern I was also thinking about distance, and the fact that they’re not completely resolute. There is a lack of clarity the closer you get to it. I’m thinking about the artificiality of images and the power they hold, even though we know they’re constructed, carefully lit and styled. That seduction still remains. I’ve talked before about my attraction to the objects in the images, but eventually my attraction to the image takes over to the point where I don’t even need the object anymore. The image is enough.

SL: So I have to ask, as cliché as it may be. . .but are there any specific artistic influences you’re using as a reference?

LBJ: The most obvious being Constantine Brancusi, in thinking about the modular quality his work had. It was about these figurative representations but also his interest in the pedestal, the supporting systems for the object and how they also could be part of the aesthetic experience, and that they could shift. I responded to that starting a few years ago. The beginnings of that inspiration were just sort of these cutouts placed on found furniture. I could absorb regular things that exist as they are into the artwork. The inclusion of the toner boxes was completely random but also made sense. Even using the boxes came out of necessity because I was re-showing some of those earlier works but didn’t have the furniture anymore so I started using these oblong cardboard boxes as pedestals. It was probably a year between doing that and then actually using a toner box. Even then I was hesitant to use the information on the toner box. I was just kind of interested in the shape, and later decided to expose the information on the box as well.

SL: How do you see your work functioning in the context of the other two GRB artists?

LBJ: That was actually one of the biggest and most pleasant surprises. I think all the work is asking particular questions as to the construction of things. Tate is thinking about language, I am in regards to racial identity and Nanette does in regards to a geographical and national identity that’s very much attached to the land. I’ve also thought about it as access to different types of economies as well. I believe Tate is thinking about language as a kind of currency -- how it gets transferred, used, abused even, who has access to it based on their understanding of it, and the power of one’s voice. I’m thinking about not only objects dressed up with purposed of being sold to people, but also the manipulation of beautiful imagery and the objectification of bodies and performance. These are identities that are able to provide a kind of service through their ability to entertain. Nanette is thinking about the industry and the economy of livestock, and how these systems have been put in place to keep that machine going. If we think about all of these different economies that are being accessed or discussed, that’s a very interesting thread that runs through everything, which wasn’t even discussed prior. There wasn’t much prior conversation between the three of us and there wasn’t much pressure from Jeffrey – we were all kind of just doing our own thing. Including Mark Bradford also, there was always an intention to include the cell phone series and Mark using the term “merchant economy” as it relates to these posters. For me it was a nice way of closing the loop. It’s another example of a local economic system that’s being identified in a body of work.

SL: Where do you see yourself moving forward? Any specific projects you’re working on?

LBJ: I think just as the two-dimensional work I was doing prior led to the sculptural work, I think the sculptural work is leading back towards the two-dimensional. I’ve started to explore image making again, initially using the toner pigment that I have from these spent cartridges to make drawings and paintings, some of which directly related to the boxes I’m pulling from, but then also trying to find a way back to figuration as well. I’m aligning material associated with one process of image making to another. It’s interesting; if you’re making art works to be seen as artworks, its relation to other artworks is obvious, whether intentional or not. There are times when I’m thinking about art history specifically and other times not really caring as much. But with the paintings, I’m thinking about what could be added to the discourse of painting in particular, how one can purposefully and constructively add to the narratives of representation in painting and drawing.


To read Lyndon's article "Ask 4 the Moon: Prince, freedom and fiction," click here. Click image below to see more from 'Of Color,' on exhibit as part of the Great Rivers Biennial at CAM through August 21. Viewing hours Wednesday through Sunday 10:00 A.M to 5:00 P.M. and until until 8:00 P.M. on Thursdays and Fridays. Admission is free. 

Lyndon Barrois Jr. - 'Of Color'

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