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Remember the part in the 1993 comedy/romance film Groundhog Day when a jaded Phil Connors, futilely stuck in an endless loop wherein he relives a single February day in a small Pennsylvania town, watches on as a hulking, bloodthirsty Punxsutawney Phil rips Ned Ryerson in half at the torso while the alien from Alien snarls in his ear? I don’t. But when I saw C.A. Wisely’s bloody and stylistic painting of Groundhog Day at the Charles Allis Art Museum, one painting of hundreds i

Once in a great while, it is possible for those of us far outside the one percent to brush up against a luxury lifestyle, to duck for a moment into a wealthy misting intended for some nearby, actual aristocrat. Maybe you’ve felt this while getting a lift home on someone’s PJ when the island hopper you were supposed to board needed new parts, or while following an invitation to a weekend at a location that does not appear on your Uber driver’s map. Or some such similar experie

Three times in twenty-four years, my mother’s Buddha statues have been pummeled into debris under the cover of night. The first time it happened, someone knocked Buddha’s head clean from his shoulders, which we found lying in the grass a few feet from the front porch and defiantly glued back on. A few days later, the vandal returned to finish the job, smashing the hollow statue to pieces that could not be reconstituted Humpty-Dumpty style. That was in the early 2000s. And aga

A review of Yoko Ono: Music of the Mind at MCA Chicago

Husks, Michael Laurito, at Grove Gallery