Best Of :: Arts & Entertainment
Sometimes a losing bet leads to a bigger bet, which leads to a very bad idea. The balls are racked. The cues are chalked. And the $100 bills are counted. Usually, an hour of midday billiards costs only six bucks at Doral's favorite strip-mall pool hall, Doral Billiards. But this next game of eight ball is worth ten grand. The other guy's fat wad of crumpled bills has been crammed into the buttoned pocket of an obese middleman. But you're broke. You're out of paper money. And you're borrowing from an acquaintance with a short temper and a remote piece of property on the edge of the Everglades. The collateral for this friendly loan is the key to a 335-horsepower family heirloom sitting in the parking lot — black, waxed, and the only thing you still own in this world. The other guy breaks, sinks six solids, then misses. You toss back the dregs of a $9 pitcher. You inhale. You exhale. You put down four stripes. You scratch. The other guy smiles, taps his last ball into a corner pocket, follows with the eight, and smiles wider. You feel the sickening, sinking feeling of losing everything. You lean against the table with an open hand on the smooth blue felt. You feel for the outline of the extra key hidden in your empty wallet. You contemplate the odds. You assess your surroundings. The ceiling is black. The walls are red. The floor is green. And it's about 20 paces at a full sprint to the front door.
How do you know when an art gallery has catapulted into the art-world stratosphere? When collectors from Miami, New York, Los Angeles, and Paris quickly buy out its entire stock at a major art fair. That was exactly what happened to Spinello Projects at the Volta New York fair, where major collectors plunked down serious cash to pluck 25 of Farley Aguilar's atmospheric paintings off the Spinello booth walls within two hours of opening its doors, to the delight of Anthony Spinello and his rising art star. Spinello, who has experienced a meteoric rise since he became a dealer in 2005, heads one of only two local galleries invited to participate in Art Basel Miami Beach the past two years running. It's no accident. The dealer has demonstrated a keen eye for spotting talent and represents locals ready to burst onto the national stage, from Aguilar to Santiago Rubino, Sinisa Kukec, Agustina Woodgate, Typoe, Manny Preires, and Antonia Wright. The main reason: He inspires fierce loyalty. For Spinello, the program he runs is a passion. He can often be found at his artists' studios or his gallery working elbow-to-elbow with the talents on their projects. Spinello has become known not only for producing edgy, thought-provoking, and seamlessly organized exhibits, but also for assembling a stable that functions as a family network of supportive talent rather than a roster of individual egos. In a business known for ruthless competitiveness, that level of loyalty is an all too uncommon trait.
During the past five years, Jillian Mayer has catapulted to national prominence as an artist and filmmaker who creates uncanny works that employ a postmillennial techno approach while blurring identities and parsing pop cultural memes. She burst onto the scene with her 2010 Scenic Jogging, in which the artist raced after bucolic screen-saver images projected onto Wynwood warehouses. That piece later won the Guggenheim's YouTube Play biennial, where it earned Mayer raves. The next year, Mayer followed with I Am Your Grandma — a viral, deliciously creepy gem in which she sings as the bizarre granny of her future progeny; it has earned 2.6 million YouTube views and counting. She also released Giving Birth to Myself, which headlined her solo show "Family Matters" at the David Castillo Gallery with a disturbing meditation on maternity where the sweat-soaked talent re-emerges as a baby slathered in acid-green slime. In 2012, Mayer and frequent collaborator and founder of the Borscht Film Festival, Lucas Leyva, snagged national headlines after their film The Life and Freaky Times of Uncle Luke screened at Sundance and earned the duo inclusion in Filmmaker Magazine's "25 New Faces of Independent Film." Last year, Mayer's clever How to Hide From Cameras, a YouTube makeup tutorial on how to remain anonymous in an increasing surveillance state, was a finalist at the Museum of Contemporary Art's popular Optic Nerve video fest, while her film #PostModem, yet another collaboration with Leyva, screened at Sundance. These days, not only is Mayer riding a hot hand, but the wildly creative artist has also proven herself a chameleon-like changeling who's startlingly at ease with forever reinventing herself.
David Beckham is smitten with the idea of constructing a new Major League Soccer Stadium at PortMiami and calls the site perfect because it reflects a city that "is all about the water, all about the culture." Becks is right. For evidence, simply visit the planet's most popular port to discover Coral Reef City, Bhakti Baxter's first large-scale public artwork in Miami. For his eye-popping project, part of Miami-Dade County's Art in Public Places program, the homegrown artist created site-specific designs for the port's toll collection booths that reference the site's unique role as gateway to the tropics. Baxter collaborated with Coral Morphologic, a Miami-based scientific art endeavor led by marine biologist Colin Foord and musician Jared McKay to create the 18 unique designs that wrap each individual toll booth. Each delivers a stunning vision of our vibrant local sea life. To accomplish the feat, Baxter and his collaborators enlarged macro photographs of corals that inhabit the waters in and around Miami, creating a striking synergy between nature and art that captures our town's appeal as a pulsating paradise. The resulting explosion of the brilliant, rainbow-hued colors of the soft corals (technically known as zoanthids) delights not only the likes of Beckham and the millions of other visitors passing through on cruise ships, but also locals, who rarely get a chance to behold the mystery and beauty of the creatures populating our coastline.
Wynwood may be the heart of a growing global graffiti movement, but some of its murals are surprisingly soulless. Whether they depict a cool-ass dragon perched atop a mountain peak or cartoon characters committing acts of violence, many are brilliantly drawn but little more, like flashy wallpaper for warehouses. Few of the works strive to stir something inside passersby. On the southwest corner of NW Third Avenue and 27th Street, towering gold letters spell "I remember paradise" against a rainbow background. The mural, by Londoner Lakwena Maciver, is meant to invoke human longing for a lost era. "We all have this sense that there is something wrong with the world but that once there was something perfect," Maciver told New Times. It's a beautiful painting, and one that has formed the backdrop for Beyoncé Instagrams and glossy magazine spreads. But it's actually the mural cater-cornered that makes us nostalgic. There, a heavily tattooed man holds a gorgeous woman in a tender embrace. A shuttered doorway is transformed into a birdcage. The mural, by Peruvian duo Entes y Pésimo (Beings & Dreadful), perfectly captures modern-day Miami: young, Hispanic, interracial, part tattooed thug, part tender romantic. The man's face is pensive, his stance protective. The woman, unashamedly in love, stares straight out at you. How wonderfully disarming to walk through Wynwood on a weekend night, past posturing dudes and pretending chicks, and stumble upon such intimacy.
The eyes of Miami are stoned on Elmer's and see everything. The sleepy sentinels keep watch over Wynwood at NW 27th Street, make their mark on the Margulies Collection facing I-95, boldly impress passersby on Biscayne Boulevard, and peer down from above the kitchen at the bayside Standard Hotel. Whatever their location or color scheme, they are stacked by the dozens, sometimes even hundreds, and leave an impression whether or not you know the name of the man who wields the can that created the memorable work. The ignorance stops here, because the local artist deserves your recognition. "AholSniffsGlue" is not only the funniest street artist name in town, but it also gets to the heart of the whole droopy-lidded genius of his best-known trademark. But lazy eyes aren't all he draws. He's had solo exhibits of his multimedia artwork at Gregg Shienbaum and Mercenary Square and has been part of group affairs at Scope and Wynwood Art Fair. But it's the half-mast eyes that are his calling card and most notable addition to the Miami street art scene. Next time you see them, call it out: "AholSniffsGlue!" You'll look cool in front of your friends.