Yet, for a middle-aged, worn-out, and irrationally sentimental cynic, such as myself, these works represented a longing for the innocent childhood pleasure of stumbling upon a withered and torn Playboy in the concealed sanctuary of my neighborhood woods or the musty scent of mildew released while flipping through an Uncle's milk crates of abandoned records, forsaken in favor of chunky, colorful 8-track cassettes, stacked in unstable towers upon a dusty, smoked-plastic turntable cover. Unsettlingly, each series of works and Hess' drawings contained the very real themes of adult desperation and despondency, revealing the insecurity of broken love, aging, loss, and the sometimes overwhelming futility of life itself. Hess' command of the human form remains undeniable on some pieces, while others portray an exhausted and almost uninspired style, which only enhances the emotional arrest conveyed throughout. The Detroit-flavored record covers in one section featured identical silkscreening, each album jacket belonging to Detroit-based musical artists. Overall, the showing was a major success, with Hess, dog in his arms, greeting the sizable crowd of admirers, visitors, and collectors. Highly recommended.
- Special Report for MCB by Lance Sanders
