In attempting to convey atrocities that confound language, artist Phyllida Barlow comes up against a paradox with no easy resolution.
Nearly a decade after his death in 2013, Phel Steinmetz’s attention to the effects of capitalism on the environment can be recognized as both political and prescient.
Wrestling is less a physical act than a psychological space in Mark Yang’s paintings.
Steckel compelled audiences to acknowledge uncomfortable realities about systemic sexism that persist decades later.
Pylypchuk’s art has always been deeply engaged with the most painful parts of life, those that human beings tend to push aside or deny in order to get by.
Through her encounters with the spirit Lacamo, Peavy developed a cosmology based on 12,000-year cycles of evolution.
For Mayer, the passage of time is imbued with a sense of melancholy, of something already lost to the past.
Eversley’s parabolic sculptures draw us into a self-aware and ever-shifting encounter with space and perceptual phenomena.
For much of his career, Olesen has confronted both psychological and physical violence, perpetrated by power structures against non-normative bodies.
Ulala Imai does more than project human feelings onto toys; she proposes that they represent us, and that we share some of their qualities.
Aitken’s exhibition “Flags and Debris” is informed by a dialectic of embodiment and absence.
Carter’s paintings gesture toward unknown realms, whether death or nonhuman consciousness.