But some point out that the seemingly zeitgeisty shift to LA is nothing new in the art world.
For Dugger, who is disabled, bodies are mutable and prone to rupture, yet they remain expansive, even cosmic.
In Vignette, Abbey Williams explores how Black affective space persists within and outside the constricted frame of the white gaze.
In Emily Furr’s paintings, objects penetrate the openings of other objects, but the body is nowhere to be seen.
In her exhibition at Sargent’s Daughters, Brandi Twilley depicts windows as portals beyond the bleak circumstances of her family’s house.
Brandi Twilley’s paintings of her childhood bedroom before it was destroyed by a fire are devoid of sentimentality, nostalgia, and even sympathy.
If you should not judge a book by its cover? What about the living room you grew up in? What do its contents say about you? Does its décor reflect who you are?
The combination makes for a compelling if slightly uneven pairing.
Let’s face it: there’s Brooklyn, and then there’s the rest of New York City. (Sorry, rest of New York City!)
In Kent Monkman’s first New York solo show, which closes this weekend at Sargent’s Daughters, art history commingles with cultural mythology in a passion play about masculinity and belonging.