Grand Motel 

Curator: Here we have "Grand Motel" by Dan Graziano, rendered in oil paint with a distinctly plein-air approach and notable impasto texture. Editor: My first thought? Nostalgia dipped in sunshine and slightly faded memories. It’s got that California light vibe. Curator: Absolutely. And given the subject matter—a roadside motel—it evokes a particular sense of American identity, one intimately tied to mobility, leisure, and even a certain working-class aesthetic. These places, often family-owned, stand in contrast to corporate hotel chains. The vibrant yet slightly weathered appearance can speak volumes about the changing landscapes of small businesses. Editor: Yeah, totally. It feels like one of those places where you might find the best stories—and the most interesting characters, for sure! The graffiti art feeling definitely hints at that undercurrent, a little grit under the golden sun. There’s something about these almost-forgotten roadside stops…they have stories etched in their peeling paint, you know? Curator: Exactly. Graziano’s technique, particularly the impasto, adds to this sense of tangible history, doesn't it? The thick layering of paint mimics the layers of time and experience. It is definitely nodding toward street art, in which one act covers another. I think there is a very important point in viewing it in its cityscape setting, because so much about the city we would not recognize had that original building been replaced by more "modern" facilities. Editor: It really does. I imagine running my hand over the canvas and feeling the bumps, the grooves, like the aged facade of a building. There is almost a quiet to it, you know? Like right before sunrise on an open highway... and where is everyone at? Why are they not staying at the Grand Motel? Maybe that feeling gives it a sadder tone. It also plays on my appreciation of decay. Curator: I agree. It prompts a certain melancholy. Perhaps because motels themselves exist in liminal spaces – temporary homes, fleeting moments of respite within larger journeys, and their own life cycles which, like any social institution, also decline. Editor: Yeah. It also hits on those points we reach in travel... How much longer on this trip? Is there anything after this destination? And then... where do we sleep. Curator: That feeling underscores so much more about the intersectionality between the American dream and mobility. The city landscapes we travel change rapidly. This painting causes introspection that other more forward pieces of art simply do not engage. Editor: In that respect, I agree wholeheartedly. It has so much soul in a deceptively simple image. It is worth contemplating how a simple corner scene might invite that type of discussion.