“Don’t let her death be in vain” read the signs of family, friends and concerned citizens who rallied outside the First Judicial District Court April 11 to raise awareness for the fatal shooting of Jeanette Anaya by New Mexico State Police on Nov. 7, 2013.

The Department of Justice releases the long-awaited results of its investigation into the Albuquerque Police Department.

Hamilton Turner discusses directing the Performing Arts Department’s new student-run show: Confessional, Small Craft Warnings.

Jackalope Magazine covers the protests over the Albuquerque Police Department recent shooting of a homeless man.

On March 10, SFUAD’s Greer Garson Theater hosted the City of Santa Fe mayoral inauguration of newly elected mayor Javier Gonzales, along with city councilors, following the March 4 municipal election.

Ranging from surreal photography to blind contour drawings of cute puppies, the pieces on the wall at IAC’s Gift Auction flowed seamlessly into the next, even though they were all made for reasons entirely personal to the artists.

“We didn’t want to curate something that seemed like an exhibition,” Luke Dorman explained in defense of his process curating Harvest, the studio art department’s 2nd annual juried art show. Dorman, along with Kelsy Waggaman, both graduates of the College of Santa Fe, were selected to judge and curate Harvest. On Thursday, Oct. 17, the two sat down for an open talk with anyone interested in learning more about their approach to the show. “The exhibition of the rejects,” or Salon de Refuses, is the first cluster of artwork seen when stepping into Fine Arts Gallery in the Southwest Annex. The salon, which was located in the rear of the exhibition during last year’s show, presents all of the works that were submitted to Harvest, but not accepted. The walls are filled with vibrant pieces of each artist’s individual talent, differing in both mediums and subject matter, but aesthetically stimulating when packed so closely together. They fool you into thinking that this is the show you came to see and, judging by the placement and variety in artwork, it is not that much of a stretch. You begin to realize then, after moving a little further into the room, that the selections that have been individually chosen and praised by the jurors are yet to come. The focus shifts from everything at once to one at a time. The 12 pieces selected were given room to breathe between one another with not a single exhibit resembling the next, yet they were all somehow related. You’ve already been shown the works that didn’t work together with all of the variables that go into a juried show, so you can gather that these pieces are meaningful and are all speaking to you thematically. In response to a student’s question asking if a specific theme was apparent to her and Dorman, Waggaman emphasized the importance of the viewer’s response rather than the jurors’ intent. “Do you see a theme?” she posed. At the Q&A with the jurors, students and faculty members, the majority of questions of which were centered around the purpose of the show, its layout in the space and the jurors’ ideas on juried shows in general. Dorman and Waggaman both agreed that, as former art students, it was difficult for them to say “no” to certain pieces that were truly remarkable by themselves, but didn’t work well next to other pieces. Waggaman described acceptance into the Salon as “a different kind of pride.” She also said that whenever her work wasn’t accepted to shows, she learned the most from those failures and it showed her how to improve her work for the next time. From embroidered shoes/socks on paper plates to a mimetic painting of two feuding foxes, all of the pieces in Harvest and the Salon played together to create a sense of place and acceptance. Both jurors worked independently at first in order to decide which ones they liked personally, then came together and collaborated with each other’s favorites. This bonding of different minds formed a cohesive collection of artwork that somehow worked together—despite lacking a specific...

There’s more than just framing and composition that goes into making a photograph powerful. A picture can be aesthetically displeasing, but if the content evokes a feeling from the viewer, whatever that feeling is, it is worthwhile. The current exhibition of Ernest C. Withers’ photographs at Monroe Gallery of Photography follows a bevy of key players in the Civil Rights Movement and, while they are all composed with beauty and care and displayed in a rather minimalistic manner, it also is the story and the people themselves that make the photographs interesting. Withers did not necessarily consider himself an artist. Bigotry and intolerance can be a great motivation to become, as he referred to himself, a “news photographer.” While Martin Luther King Jr., and Malcolm X motivated the African American community to find their voice in the United States, Withers documented them, showing the world their heroes. He captured their character and strength, as well as their humanity, all with the snap of a camera. Born in Memphis, Tenn., Withers’ upbringing was probably very similar to the very people he would go onto document during the peak of the Civil Rights Movement. Trained at the Army School of Photography during WWII, Withers then went on to serves as one of Memphis’s first African American police officers before his career in photography. White walls and black frames bring focus to the work on display at the Monroe gallery. Colorless photographs of an oppressed people do more to the viewer who has even the most basic understanding of the segregation and hatred our own country enforced than a handful of words on a page could ever do. That is why these photos are arranged in the way that they are. An ample amount of space between each picture gives viewers enough time to be intrigued by a stoic photograph of Martin Luther King Jr. and then  immediately disgusted by photos of racist persecution, without being overwhelmed. These bare, white walls that consume the black frames allow the pictures inside of these frames to break free and run wild inside the viewer’s mind. “I AM A MAN” reads the signs held by dozens of sanitation workers rallying for solidarity. The viewer is swarmed with text that begs our modern society to ask, “Why should anyone have to defend their existence?” “Don’t buy gas where you can’t use the Rest-Room,” says the bumper sticker on a vehicle that is most-certainly not owned by a black family, who is content with their community’s current views on cohabitation. Withers also documents the musical scene in Memphis, with pictures of James Brown, Aretha Franklin, Al Green and even Elvis— all grounded with the feeling of “we’re changing the world.”   The Monroe Gallery is located at 112 Don Gaspar Ave. Ernest Wither’s work will be on display until Nov. 24,...