Amid an ocean of color-mad paintings in Henry Taylor’s three-decade retrospective at MOCA is a colorless painted object: a black typewriter case overlaid with text of thick white coarse brushstrokes: I TRY To be Write aint TRY’n to be WHITE Simple rhythmic text...
“We outside!” Chance the Rapper exclaims into his microphone. The sky is near black at maybe seven minutes after 8 p.m. in Downtown Los Angeles. Third weeknight of October. Chance had been and would be again, soon, rhyming his way through a song. The Chicago MC had...
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