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Courtesy of Telluride Arts District Tonight, low-hanging clouds ring the mountains that frame the historic town of Telluride. Once home to a frenzy of mining activity in the late 19th century, Telluride is now a mountain adventurer’s paradise and a cultural hub full of various rotating festivals and an impressive fine art scene. This evening, as they do on the first Thursday of each month, Telluride’s galleries open their doors to welcome visitors with trays of cookies and a wealth of stories. Courtesy the artist, Earl Bliss, Turquoise Door Gallery Turquoise Door Gallery My first stop is the Turquoise Door Gallery, housed in an

In the 1970s, the artist Richard Prince was working in the tear-sheet department of Time/Life publications, where he began the portentous act of keeping personal copies of the advertisements he had been tasked to register. Photographing the pages with slide film, Prince documented the pictures as though they were objects or artifacts. He would later crop and blow up the advertisements to poster-size, excising text and teasing out motifs which pointed to damning and compelling truths about our visual culture. Often concerned with the presentation of masculinity and femininity, Prince’s prints helped usher in the Pictures Generation, an era of

“I am interested in objects suspended from their original function and purpose by being stored and displayed in institutions solely as historical objects,” the artist Gala Porras-Kim writes in a letter to Harvard’s Peabody Museum of Archeology and Ethnology. The letter is both a work of art by Porras-Kim and an inquiry into the status of countless other works, made not by her but the Mayan people in the land surrounding Chichén Itza, as offerings to their rain god Chaac. Those familiar with Porras-Kim might read a special, spectral quality into her use of the word “historical,” as though in

Cities around the world are littered with public monuments. Largely a 19th- and early 20th century typology, the statues have weathered, and often, the stories and names have faded from our memory. Yet the lasting enshrinement of these figures remain in the enduring architectural materials of bronze, stone, marble and steel. These monuments to immortality have been the target of scrutiny and overwhelming activism in recent years. From U.S-based “pull downs” of Confederate monuments to attacks on monuments of scale — say, the Capitol Building — we as a society are re-engaging with our urban monuments. Hunks of stone and metal

Amongst the sprawling one-story warehouses of downtown LA, Murmurs Gallery stands out with its polished glass-and-concrete exterior and beckoning matcha and café-latte sign. The recently reopened, community-oriented events space and gallery boasts an artist-curated shop, café, plant-filled courtyard, and monthly exhibitions.  Passing through the storefront shop, café and courtyard, unidentifiable sounds beckon me towards the exhibition space, mixing with the passing cars and conversations into an industrial symphony. Just before the gallery, a small seating area, guestbook, press-releases and off-beat floral arrangement welcome me. Despite the frame of the white-cube gallery — track lighting, white walls and concrete floors — the