




See it, hear it, feel it: All the Philly art we loved this week
By Elizabeth Wellington, Rosa Cartagena, Dan DeLuca, Morgan Ritter
Finding America at Woodmere’s ‘Arc of Promise’
ast week, Woodmere director William R. Valerio stood in front of six vibrant works in Woodmere’s Charles Knox Smith Hall’s Antonelli Gallery.
Behind him were two works by Philadelphia painters Francis Coates Jones and Thomas Hovenden, both depicting an elderly Black named Sam, who lived in the Germantown/Chestnut Hill area, simply enjoying moments in nature. Another Dox Thrash etching of a man holding a banjo suggests he’s more than an entertainer, but also introspective thinker.

Contemporary artist Allan L. Edmond’s lithograph, America’s Bicentennial features luminaries Frederick Douglass, Martin Luther King, and Barack Obama alongside scenes of African American struggle and achievement.
What if America in the 19th century — when many of these works were made — embraced Black men’s humanity?, I thought. What if we came to terms with how unfair treatment of women, minorities, and immigrants in the past impacted our lives today?
Would America be a different place?
These questions find answers in every nook, cranny, and inch of Woodmere’s “Arc of Promise” exhibit. Each painting, ceramic, map, or mixed media collage speaks to how Philly artists — from the 17th century through today — envisioned the idea of America.

Many — including Barbara Bullock’s seminal sculpture honoring the life of Trayvon Martin and the charcoal works of the late Peter Paone — are a part of Woodmere’s vast permanent collection.
But there are several important works on loan including protest photography by Harvey Finkle and a mixed-media handcrafted necklace by Teri Hislop, a member of the Lenape Nation of Pennsylvania. Henry Bermudez’s Miss America, completed in 2019 offers a layered vision of America through migration, mythology, and identity. It sits next to sculptor Hiram Powers’ “America,” in which 19th century America is depicted as a Greek goddess.
There is a lot of pomp, circumstance, and sparkle in this lively retrospective. The must-see gallery, however, is the Schnader Gallery Hall because it includes a pristine collection of refurbished American landscapes by local 19th century artists Frederic Edwin Church and James Hamilton featuring many a Schuylkill waterfall. Think of this gallery as a place to retreat from bustling Fourth of July weekend.
“Arc of Promise” takes its name from watercolor artist, Jerry Pinkney, a longtime friend of the Woodmere who used the term as a way to speak to an America of unfolding potential, despite its past unequal treatment of Black people, immigrants and women.
“Arc of Promise” runs through Nov. 2, 2026. Woodmere’s Smith Hall is located at 9201 Germantown Avenue.
— Elizabeth Wellington

Excavating history with ‘Basil Biggs’
There is something so powerful about seeing someone grapple with their personal experience of American history. As Semiquincentennial fanfare reached fever pitch in Philadelphia, this workshop of a developing play by actor/playwright Anna Deavere Smith was a deeply moving performance about her great-great-grandfather, a conductor on the Underground Railroad. Smith learned of Biggs for the first time in an episode of Finding Your Roots; even then, she knew his story was worthy of a play, though she didn’t start writing until a decade later.
Biggs was a veterinarian and farmer in Gettysburg during the Civil War, a free Black man who helped fugitives escape slavery and buried the tens of thousands of soldiers who died in the war’s bloodiest battle. The Biggs family house in Gettysburg still stands today, and Smith visited the grounds, as well as the Adams County Historical Society, while she researched the time period. There was little preserved in the archive about her family, so this work is narrative speculation based on her archival research, much like groundbreaking scholar Saidiya Hartman’s critical fabulation: In the absence of preserved records about African Americans in history, visionaries use archival materials to imagine the lives of those largely erased from written memory.
Smith crafted a riveting world that showcased fierce resilience, disarming humor, and profound empathy during a painfully divided time, fueled by original music from actor/violinist Edward W. Hardy. It was an honor to experience one of the earliest presentations of this play, which will likely grow into a major production in the future. It’s the kind of honest work about this nation’s bloody, conflicted history that feels like essential viewing for anyone who calls themself a patriot.
‘Basil Biggs’ ran June 26-28 at the Wilma Theater as part of ArtPhilly’s What Now: 2026 festival.
— Rosa Cartagena

Romping, stomping, piano-pounding resistance with Low Cut Connie
Adam Weiner of Low Cut Connie has stressed that the band’s eighth studio album, whose release is timed to America’s 250th birthday, is an act of resistance.
Shortly after becoming one of the first artists to cancel at the Kennedy Center after the Trump administration’s takeover of the Washington, D.C. institution in early 2025, Weiner recorded what became the title song.
As he explains in an explanatory note that accompanies the album, it addresses “the atrocity of ICE, authoritarianism, racism” and led to a full set of songs “about the times we are living through in America 2026.”
But while Weiner’s political stance is unequivocal — “I made this album to say f— you to this regime, to the brutality, and inhumanity of our tech leaders,” he writes — his music is much more subtle.
Many of the titles like “Oh Yeah” and “Get Down” on Livin in the USA are essentially party songs: romping, stomping, piano-pounding and saxophone-wailing celebrations of diversity and sexuality that aren’t the slightest bit preachy or pedantic.
Singing a gospel of self-liberation, Weiner is accompanied by the touring LCC band, which includes singer Amanda “Rocky” Bulwinkel,” guitarist-sax player Kelsey Cork and drummer Jarae Lewis. Occasionally, as in the grinding, “Human Condition,” the songs are overt in their condemnation of life during Trump time, which he likens to “living in a house of detention.”
But in general, he heeds lessons learned from favorite albums like Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA and Sly and the Family Stone’s There’s A Riot Goin’ On. When delivering a heavy message, always keep the groove going, and the rock rolling.
“Just because the world is collapsing,” Weiner writes in his Livin album note, “doesn’t mean we can’t go skinny dipping this weekend.” “Can’t Be Wrong” is perhaps the most grabby ear worm in a tight, 10-song set whose energy never flags. In that song, the prospect of “gettin’ naked in the afternoon, or maybe later underneath the moon” leads to an obvious conclusion: “Oh babe, you know it can’t be wrong.”
“Livin in the USA” releases on July 3
— Dan DeLuca
Remembering LGBTQ+ activists
Resting in peace can also mean resting in pride and power. This new Gayborhood mural provides a tribute that does exactly that.
In Pride, In Power, In Memory is located on the side of Voyeur Nightclub at 1221 James Street, a prominent spot amid Philadelphia’s queer nightlife.

Painted by artist Santiago Galeas, the mural displays portraits of Gloria Casarez, Michael S. Hinson, Jr., Tyrone Smith, Nizah Morris, and Dawn Munro; all LGBTQ+ activists who called Philadelphia home.
Each figure is accompanied by a flower that symbolizing the person’s life and identity; Casarez’s portrait is adorned by Mexican marigolds, for example, as a nod to her heritage. The faces were all drawn referencing photos of them looking hopeful and optimistic.
The mural is strikingly bright, with vivid shades of purple and yellow illuminating the portraits.
These trailblazers pursued several kinds of activism in their lives, including AIDS awareness, trans rights, and community organization to rally for queer rights. Without them, the status of Philadelphia’s acceptance of the queer community may have looked completely different today.
“In Pride, In Power, In Memory” is located on the side of Voyeur Nightclub at 1221 James Street
— Morgan Ritter


