Make no mistake. As a white man, artist Ryan Doyle does not try to "explain" racism to anyone. Doyle’s work is a way to explore his own experiences and the racist environment we all live in. Take his recent work using baseball caps. It features molds of the caps’ home team letters, spelling out "spookd." He first heard the reference while growing up in Florissant in the 1990s, about a noise on the porch. Later, the memory made him question the meaning of the word, and indeed, what’s behind much

What do you call a group of visual artists inspired by the death of Michael Brown and the social-justice movement it spawned? St. Louis curator Freida Wheaton calls them the “Sweet 16.” It’s a nod to their numbers as well as a reference to their niche. On Feb. 26-27, you can see the work of these St. Louis artists at the Touhill, in conjunction with “New Dance Horizons IV.” Dance St. Louis’ annual event presents three world premieres this year, inspired by legendary St. Louisans Maya Angelou,

It's no stretch to think that Basil Kincaid’s efforts to unite people of African heritage require travel. But pre-paid phone cards, vinyl sheets and a strong adhesive are also part of the process. Kincaid recently returned from the West African country of Ghana, where he used donated phone cards and other found materials in a village-wide art project. Now the results of that undertaking have come full circle, back to St. Louis , for an exhibition at The Luminary arts incubator, 2701 Cherokee St.

Revolution is not for the faint of heart; neither is parenthood. In The Black Rep’s production of the play “Sunset Baby,” the character Kenyatta finds connecting with his grown daughter is perhaps more difficult a challenge than enduring years as a political prisoner.

Making art involves creativity, of course. But for many artists, including St. Louis’ Tate Foley, exactitude is every bit as important. Printmaker Foley is meticulous about following the necessary steps, in strict order. One of his first steps sometimes involves ordering from eBay, since Foley’s work explores consumerism using things like gum wrappers and trading cards. But his next project — for the Great Rivers Biennial opening in May at the Contemporary Art Museum — involves something less

The arts in St. Louis are similar to the fabled elephant described by six men who cannot see: “It’s like a snake!” cried one who grasped the tail. “No, a tree trunk!” insisted another, as he rubbed a leg. Art is a staged dialogue that makes you wince with recognition. It's a brushstroke that evokes sadness; a beat your toes can’t help but keep. And it's as unique as the artist, as we've learned in our first year of putting together the Cut & Paste podcast. We talked with dozens of guests

For multimedia artist Lyndon Barrois Jr., the different genres came together like a stack of building blocks. As a child, he liked to draw, but he didn’t paint until his third year of college. Then in grad school, he began to embrace sculpture and other creative means. Soon he was making art with the idea that every work should take whatever form suits it best.

For 22 years, a St. Louis organization has helped prisoners and youthful detainees project words like "thee" and "thou" and practice pliés and arabesques. Prison Performing Arts instructors work with inmates on projects like performing Shakespeare, perfecting ballet routines and creating hip-hop poetry. It's an effort whose success is told more by anecdotes than analysis.