“I'm sort of a frustrated writer, in a sense,” Candace Hicks tells me over Zoom. “And so, making artist books is a way of self-publishing. It’s also a way of making things permanent.”
It’s 1992 at Glasgow School of Art. A seven-foot-by-six-foot painting that portrays a thick, fleshy female nude, subtly snarling and sitting on a pedestal, towers above visitors to an undergraduate exhibition.
The internet is peppered with a handful of articles about the artist Michael Tracy, the majority of which take either his extravagant but gruff personality or his 2024 passing as their subject matter.
