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.
Want to unload your business? With Stan Hazelwood, it’s not much harder than getting a date.
At the singles bar of the eighties, is it’s not love, it could still be a good investment opportunity.
In the current Rauschenberg exhibit at Houston’s Contemporary Arts Museum the artist finds his first thirty years a tough act to follow.
In a Twilight Zone-like pocket near UT there are some kids who aren’t ready to grow up.
Christian recording mogul Chris Christian knows what the Rock of Ages really means.
NorthPark Mall inaugurated an epoch twenty years ago. It’s still the standard for upscale shopping.
Today’s with-it seniors are settling in American’s newest retirement boomtown—Kerrville.
One man’s whim-turned-obsession is changing Houston’s McKee Street Bridge and its faded environs into one of the few really original artistic images of the city.
The Kimbell’s exhibit of seventeenth-century Spanish still lifes is dazzling enough to cause a modern photo-realist to look again.
Dallas' Fifth Texas Sculpture Symposium proves it's time for us to look to our sculptors for public artworks.
The impressive canvases that make up “Fresh Paint” at the Museum of Fine Arts prove that Houston has finally arrived as a significant art-making center.
With his rough-hewn sculptures that speak to mankind’s most basic needs, James Surls is fast becoming the dean of Texas art.