In a world racing into artificial intelligence and digital shortcuts, Kevin Bradley slams the brakes—and cranks the press. He insists on creating art through the meticulous, tactile process of traditional letterpress printing, transforming carved wood, hand-set type, and ink into bold proclamations of humor, heart, and raw humanity.
"You would bring me a dead rat if you thought there was $20 in it."
Bradley doesn’t ask for permission, and his art sure as hell doesn’t either. With more than 30 years in the letterpress, design and art game, he’s carved out a voice that’s loud, sharp, and completely his own. The Letterpress Preacher: Truth Lies & Southern Grit is a dynamic solo exhibition that highlights Bradley’s unapologetically Southern voice, his reverence for typography and his gift for uniting text and image that makes you laugh, wince, and wonder.
"I've never heard of a costume party in broad daylight."
There’s no Photoshop here. No AI prompts. Just wood blocks, vintage type, honesty and his bare hands. He’s got thousands of blocks and decades’ worth of carved words and images, and he pulls from that arsenal to say exactly what’s on his mind—no sugarcoating, no art-speak, no holding back.
"In real estate you don't actually have to see the dirt."
This is Kevin Bradley unfiltered—blending homegrown tales, maverick spirit, and gut-punch honesty in every piece. His artwork tackles everything from sharp cultural commentary to absurd musings that’ll make you laugh out loud or tuck your tail. This show is a snapshot of Kevin’s world: part Southern folklore, part rock poster, part street philosophy and front-porch sermon. One minute it’s biting, the next it’s poetic—but it’s always real.
"You could grow bouncers on both arms.”
He’s a one-man printing press of irreverence and conviction. Bradley prints like he talks: fast, funny, and full of grit. The smell of ink, the crack of type, the rhythm of the press—it all becomes part of the message. He turns paper into protest, punchlines, and poetry with relentless creative muscle.
"Every time I look into my mirror there's a blue Chevy following me.”
This exhibition is more than a showcase—it’s a testament to the raw power of analog process in a digital age. It’s a celebration of doing things the hard way, the honest way, and most importantly—your own way. Kevin Bradley isn’t trying to please everyone. He’s here to say something, and he’s not going to whisper
"She dropped him like an old shoe."
The Letter Press Preacher pulls you into a space where art meets artifact, where every word is intentional and every image is steeped in meaning with a wink. It’s a celebration of slow art in a fast world, of tradition as rebellion, and of the American South as a source of enduring creative fire.