Michael Ennis has been a regular contributor to Texas Monthly since 1977. He is the New York Times best-selling author of the historical novels The Malice of Fortune, Duchess of Milan, and Byzantium, which have been published worldwide. He earned his degree in history from the University of California, Berkeley; taught art history at the University of Texas, Austin; and is a former John D. Rockefeller III Foundation Fellow. His nonfiction writing, on subjects ranging from military preparedness and national politics to art and architecture, has won several national awards; been included in the curriculum of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point; and has been published in a number of books and anthologies as well as magazines such as Esquire, ARTnews, and Architectural Digest.
At Houston's FotoFest 2002, digital art took center stage as never before-and proved that the Next Big Thing might really be the next big thing.
Some people look at Houston and see only rough edges. Peter Marzio, the director of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, sees a brash upstart that should be proud of its cultural riches.
Modernism may yet be proved dead, but if so, it has left an exquisite corpse in Fort Worth's stunning new Modern Art Museum.
The real revelation of Donald Judd's early work is how far ahead of its time it looksnot simply its own time, but our time as well.
The addition of Leo Steinberg's magnificent collection makes it official: UT-Austin's Blanton is one of the best university art museums in the country.
As in Nasher, and everybody should. His $70 million sculpture center is the most eagerly anticipated arts opening in Dallas' history.
A new anthology of articles about Houston from the journal of the Rice Design Alliance is a sweeping historical overview, a civic memoir, and a municipal self-help guide.
What sets Dallas apart from other sophisticated
American cities? Its unique end-of-the-world industry.
The idea that U.S. policy bears an indelible made-in-
Texas stamp is a rare point of bipartisan consensus. But
there's nothing inherently Texan about the president's
We Texans have long considered ourselves, in mythical terms, old cowhands. But we’re waking up to discover that weï¿½re really city slickers.
Why Texas could lose the biotech revolution—and end up, once again, an economic also-ran.
For starters, even though its self- image is big and brash, it’s the most politically wimpy city in Texas.
Frozen embryos are destroyed every day in the name of in vitro fertilization. Tell me again what’s so wrong with stem cell research?
As surprising as our immigrant-friendliness may be to many, it speaks to who we are. To be a Texan is to inhabit a vast bicultural frontera, one that extends far beyond the Rio Grande.