Contemporary Art and Culture
Downtown in Tribeca, beneath the Derek Eller Gallery, the George Adams Gallery sits like a quiet afterthought. Easy to pass by. Down a short flight of stairs, away from the street glare, Elisa D’Arrigo’s recent sculptures gather in a small white room and hold their ground. The scale is modest. The presence is not.
For many years now, John Avelluto has used trompe-l’œil and sculptural hyperrealism to unsettle the stereotypical trappings of Italian American identity, particularly its relationship to food. As in many other migrant communities, food functions as a vessel of memory and belonging, often bearing a disproportionate symbolic charge. Avelluto’s lifelike slices of acrylic mortadella and mounds of rainbow cookies confront this issue directly: they turn the charged history of foodways and their role in shaping communal narratives into something at once seductive and ridiculous. Viewers are forced to contend with the absurdity of articulating an entire national identity through piles of candies, pastries, and cold cuts elevated to the status of icons.
When I enter Nunu Fine Art in SoHo, New York, my body registers Mia Westerlund Roosen’s work before my mind does. Two tall forms, Heat (1981) and Conical (1981), lean into the room with a quiet insistence, their weight felt rather than announced. They rise from the floor with muscular arcs, tapering upward, commanding space without spectacle. I slow down instinctively, adjusting my path. These are not sculptures to be glanced at; they ask to be circled, negotiated, endured.
Natalie Moore grew up in San Diego, California, and spent many summers in Norway with her mother’s family. Although she has lived in New York for much longer, the dramatic Californian and Norwegian landscapes remain a lasting influence. Climate and ecology have also become more present in her work over the last decade, as the climate crisis worsens and governments and corporations continue to minimize the effects of carbon emissions, pollution, water use, and chemical waste.
Stepping into Rachel MacFarlane’s exhibition, Afterlight, you enter an atmosphere of radiant, sweltering landscapes and venture towards an unknown future. The unpredictable future of a natural world that is vibrant, strong, and resilient, continuing to grow despite the climate changes and ecological effects that have threatened it. MacFarlane expertly situates the viewer amid a vibrantly colored atmosphere, positioning them as an active participant in the environments the paintings create.
A clamor of murmurs without end. Several ghostly strands twisted strangely yet remained formless, wispy, and clinging, yet never settling into anything definite. Moving, then halting; halting, then moving again. Soft as if boneless, without body heat, yet inducing a tremor from within: a sudden burn, gooseflesh blooming in patches, sticky, viscous—caught and entangled by a reckless surge of ghostly energy. One slips from the ordinary into a hollow. A Lure, A Lament offers, at first encounter, precisely such a sensation. And yet its murmuring voice continues to drift, recounting wave after wave of fragrant air.
In Tirtzah Bassel’s vibrant and challenging exhibition, I Put A Spell, the viewer is immediately confronted with the question: Can the power of witchcraft—rooted in both ancient wisdom and intuition—serve as a potent metaphor for reclaiming women’s agency in art and beyond?
Walking into the group exhibition, Like Cotyledons Buckled with Loam at Art Cake, curated by David Dixon, you are first greeted with a piece by Thomas Nozkowski. This piece is one of three included in the exhibition, each serving as a foundational anchor point in the show. Within the paintings, Nozkowski abstracts forms or fractions of events, allowing viewers to experience the essence and bring their own associations to the works.
