Aware that the city where we live is often portrayed as a glossy, one-dimensional place, we looked into the museum collection for work that suggested the opposite—roughness, surprise, and contrast. Dry Wit: Artworks from the Collection of the Marjorie Barrick Museum of Art began to evolve.

Tim Bavington hit me with flowers. With seven-foot bouquets of flowers, to be precise, smack-dab in the middle of two large paintings on the wall of his downtown Las Vegas studio.

It’s clear that, by the numbers at least, the business of classical music has been in a heap of trouble for some time; what is less clear is why. Pundits from different corners of the arts world have no shortage of explanations or theories about what has most contributed to the genre’s decline in cultural relevancy. (British novelist Kingsley Amis once wrote that late 20th century classical music is to blame, asserting that the modern symphony has “about as much chance of public acceptance as pedophilia.” Ouch.)

The word “anxiety” gets thrown around a lot these days, and I admit, I’ve been a little dismissive. I’d think to myself, “Don’t we all get nervous now and then? What’s the big deal?” Then, this year, I experienced a series of panic attacks that knocked me right off my high horse.

Each year in September, Metropolis dives deep into the world of textiles, profiling industry leaders, surveying techniques, and showcasing radical new projects. Here, we highlight five artists pushing the boundary of their craft.

Even though the research is in its early stages, a growing number of architects, designers, professional organizers, and environmental psychologists believe the spaces we live in are as inextricably linked to our neurological well-being as sleep, diet and exercise.

School is back in session.

And for students at UNLV, that means so are the arts.

Living in a calm, safe and relaxing place is decisive for greater life satisfaction.

In a field of golden corn, a crucified figure tips to the left, as if he might fall; resembling Jesus, this is likely the maize god, central to Olmec, Maya, and Aztec belief systems. Butterflies surround another patriarch, perhaps Jesus on a good day: He extends his huge orange-brown arms, offering an embrace. Between these two figures, a green creature surrounded by streaks of orange and yellow hovers over a fire as she delivers a child.

When Tyreek Jarman, aka Chop808, released his single “Nobody’s Safe” in May, it came with an unusual label: the word “EXPLICIT.” But something else was different, too. The wholesome and upbeat Jarman, known for hamming it up and dancing with fans at shows, was gone. Here was a menacing beast firing machine-gun bars over a bass-heavy trap beat. You don’t wanna go to war with me, I grew up with apes, he warns on the track.

Between paid gigs, designer Spencer Haley makes motion tests, practicing for his next challenge. One of his recent studies uses the disembodied head of a man who looks like a 1960s car salesman, multiplied, twisted and slid around. The salesman is still confident and cocky, even as he’s spun silly and shish-kabobbed—an indication of Haley’s considerable talent.

Light, paint, patterns and other design elements affect your mood.