The ancient poet Homer is considered among the most influential authors in history, and he begins The Iliad with a blunt directive: “Rage—Goddess, sing the rage.” Curated by Jaime Ransome and featuring mixed media works by 31 female-identifying and non-binary artists, “CRAZY” at BAU Gallery in Beacon (on view through February 8) is belting out a song of empowered fury for the ages.
The bounty of diverse artworks in this exhibition—including painting, photography, sculpture, video, zines, installation, and performance—embody personal and political issues while reflecting the enduring influence of feminist punk music, the inspiration of Afropunk movements, and the intensity of maximalist tendencies. True to its title, the overall mood of this show excites the psyche while pushing certain “frantic” and urgent topics to the forefront by way of 55 provocative artworks.

Jenna Jerman’s Beautiful Mess (2022) is the shape of an ultrasound made of encaustic, a sensitive reminder that incarnation (and the choice to bring forth human life) is the continuation of messiness. Nearby is Michelle Silver’s fiery painting What She Builds, She Must Destroy II (2025) and the image of a woman’s body leaning backward into a black-and-crimson-hued chaos, indeed a haunting parallel to Jerman’s piece. Don’t tell me to fucking smile (2025) by Reilly Deller does the opposite: You will indeed crack a smirk at this witty wall installation of screen-printed porcelain speech bubbles. Leela Corman’s Untitled (Two Women) (2024) continues the ethos of the “crazy” narrative with this lively vision of two gals chatting while blood pours forth from their mouths.

The Destroyer of Fragile Male Egos (2018) by Christie Rose is a stoic photographic collage including personal writings below a sexy side-profile of the artist looking like a Joan of Arc archetype, while her Your lips belong on mine (2023) is a bright Pop-art vision of hands twisting around a writhing mouth. Suchi Jalavancha’s series darkroom prints of 35mm film negatives are a fun complement to her IS THIS AI SLOP? (2025) set of mini zines on a pedestal. Elinor Levy’s They Want to Keep Us Small (2025) consists of a little pink brain-like shape made of yarn and pierced with tiny stitched derogatory words such as “catty” and “hussy,” all contained within a glass Mason jar. The Laborer (2021) by Jeanna Mead is a hilarious piece that combines video, performance, and sculpture. Take three minutes to watch the clip in its entirety, featuring a woman who wakes into and navigates a penis-infused world (a lighthearted mockery that reflects the greater issue of male dominance).

Among the most compelling works in this show are Peloloca’s Sacred & Profane (2025) trio of woodfired stoneware sculptures that stand defiantly like futuristic deity-warriors. The captions to accompany these pieces are riveting and reference themes such as “genocidal complicity, imperial supremacy, and gender violence” while inciting realization in the viewer. While all three strike a fierce pose, the potent one is Akkughnī (Slayer of Akku) (2025) and the story behind it. The didactic for this miniature idol recounts the story of a mob of over 200 women who stormed a district court in India to collectively murder a serial rapist who had been repeatedly acquitted, effectively taking the law into their unified hands to realize justice.

As the global community grapples with the ill-fated rise of fascist agendas in the US and beyond, it seems we have forgotten that the whole of Western consciousness is built upon the shoulders of Homer’s mighty poetry. Alas, in our efforts to resist tyranny and fakery-fuckery, we turn to the ever-giving goddess of art, and may she sing a rageful tune for all eternity. In the meantime, there is limited time to see “CRAZY” before the closing of this collective choir of vigorous creative rage. In the words of Ransome, stay punk!








