Is nostalgia really a safe space for us to process the uncertainty of the rapidly changing present? This Candy Has Teeth, curated by Shuhan Zhang, features five Chinese artists, Shengjie Jiang, Weican Wang, Jiaqi Mao, Yukun (Chloe) Ba, and Cindy (Zhaoyue) Chen, who move through childhood, memory, and nostalgia in different ways. Together, their works reflect our current desire for nostalgia, a desire that perhaps reveals just how uncertain the present feels. Yet the more we try to grasp onto the soft, safe, familiar places of the past, the more complicated those memories become. If you really delve back into them, they are also full of discomfort: moments of being forced to accept what happened, and the stiffness of a choke at the throat. As the curatorial text suggests, it is a “sensory misalignment”—an apple is sweet, yet hard to swallow.
Pentimento: Danny Balgley at Wexler Gallery
The abstract paintings in Pentimento, the debut solo exhibition at Wexler Gallery in Philadelphia by New York artist Danny Balgley, live up to their title. Like geological strata, the urban palimpsest of peeling billboards and weathered facades, or memory itself, their layers let traces of earlier marks show through, revealing themselves gradually, the longer we look.
Gamaliel Rodríguez: What is etched from what has been lived at Pace Prints
At first glance, Gamaliel Rodríguez’s monoprints look like postcards of tropical lands: saturated palms and skies that evoke Caribbean tourism imagery. The paradise turns more industrial and quite specific as you look longer: an ethanol plant in Medina, New York, the Bacardi distillery in Cataño, Puerto Rico. Following Rodriguez’s first solo show with Pace Prints, we discussed this new body of work.
Rebecca Morgan at Asya Geisberg Gallery: Traversing the Apocalypse
Rebecca Morgan’s exhibition Painting in the Age of Apocalypse is a bit of a roadmap for viewers. Morgan tackles the question of how to present images in the face of a raging political landscape, how to keep moving forward, and how to maintain oneself and some humor about it all. And most importantly to me, how to open up one’s painting style and allow both the work and the process to support you through this tumultuous and often unbelievable terrain we may find ourselves within. In this exhibition, Morgan engages potent themes from all her eras: sympathy for her rural background, feminist reappraisal of art history, and an unbridled excitement at infusing humor and technical prowess into her critique. Here, Morgan fuses all of these themes well, all the while showing us a fresh, looser style of painting that captures the frenetic energy of the moment.
Yu-Hsu Chou: Beyond the Visible World
Taiwanese visual artist Yu-Hsu Chou uses photography to ask: how much can we trust what we see? This question runs through all his images, whether landscape, digital signals, urban surfaces, or human shadow. However varied the subject matter is, each work evokes the gap between what is visible and what we believe it to be.
Orly Cogan and Robert Mann: Behind the Lens & Through the Needle
Orly Cogan stitches, crochets, and paints directly onto photographs. Under her needle, figures loosen from their frames, and in some pieces the thread spills past the edge onto the floor. Her work on photographs owes much to twenty years alongside the photography dealer Robert Mann. The two met at an art fair, reconnected at a collector’s party, and had their first date in her studio talking about her work; across years of openings, fairs, and long studio hours since, each has shaped how the other looks. Cogan, trained as a painter, came to read a photograph as an object with its own history and materiality, while Mann, whose gallery was built on photography, became an advocate for embroidery and its feminist history. That shared education first reached his gallery walls in 2014.
Behind the Lens and Through the Needle gathers the work that grew from that exchange and opens Mann’s newly built West Chelsea space in his thirty-fifth year with a public gallery. In Cogan’s hands, the two mediums hold different kinds of time: the camera’s caught instant and the needle’s slow, cumulative one. The photograph gives her the frozen scene; the embroidery reopens it, adding labor, touch, and imagination until the captured moment seems to keep unfolding.
Tim Kent’s Sojourn Was Never Actually a Rest
Sojourn, a new body of work by Canadian-American painter Tim Kent, opened recently at Hollis Taggart’s Chelsea location runs through October 17. Ask Kent what the show is about. He gives you a clean, simple answer. The main idea is just taking a break from working too hard. It’s the kind of respite that chronically overworked New Yorkers rarely give themselves.
In Kent’s telling, rest isn’t relaxation. It’s rebellion.
Joyce Polance: The Patient Looks Back: Portraits of My Therapist
Joyce Polance has spent three years painting the same therapist nineteen times, in oil with fingers, and always from photographs taken at the close of a session. Polance inverts a familiar asymmetry: in therapy, Polance is the one exposed and observed, and here the therapist is the subject of long study, a figure whose features have grown more familiar to Polance yet, in many ways, remain a stranger. That paradox drives this body of work and gives the exhibition its title, The Patient Looks Back. It opened this September at Vassar College’s James W. Palmer III Gallery. What began as a single painting became something more persistent: a reflection on how difficult it is to truly know another person, even under the closest attention.