Art & Exhibitions

In 1868, Hungarian writer Karl-Maria Kertbeny, in a letter to his fellow journalist Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, coined the term “homosexual” to describe same-sex attraction. He was writing to argue against the criminalization of private sexual acts—a cause he somewhat shared with Ulrichs, best known as the first gay man to openly defend homosexuality. But Kertbeny’s coinage, which publicly debuted in an 1869 pamphlet, would ironically create thorny issues of its own as it echoed through the ages.
For one, queer art historian Jonathan David Katz, who has spent the better part of six years unpacking the significance of the term, has found it often limited rather than liberated identity. “Essentially, the nomenclature helped to inaugurate a gulf between forms of desire that had previously been unified,” he told me over the phone. “What I began to think about was: how did we enter a world in which sexuality not only became bifurcated, but in some sense, became a defining trait of characters?”
Marie Laurencin, Le bal élégant (The Elegant Ball) or La danse à la campagne (The Country Dance) (1913). Musée Marie Laurencin, Tokyo.
But where the terminology has constricted (not helped by its cooptation by the psychology field), Katz discovered a sphere where queer desire remained far from circumscribed.
“Art,” he said, “picked up the slack as the possibilities of language became attenuated.”
That revelation is at the center of “The First Homosexuals,” an exhibition that just opened at Wrightwood 659 in Chicago. Across more than 300 artworks, Katz and associate curator Johnny Willis, leading an international team of 22 scholars, will trace how the birth of the term “homosexual” reframed artistic expressions of identity and sexuality. (The first part of the show, a smaller presentation, ran in 2022.)
Tomioka Eisen, kuchi-e (frontispiece) with artist’s seal Shisen (c. 1906). Tirey-van Lohuizen Collection.
While the show takes 1869 as its watershed moment, it fittingly opens with a section called Beyond the Binary, which arrays early 19th-century works that make no distinction between same-sex and different-sex desires. Erotic Japanese prints by the likes of Hokusai and Utamaro make a showing, as does sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen’s 1823–24 relief on the mythical relationship between Anacreon and Cupid.
Also key here is George Catlin’s Dance to the Berdash (1835–37), which depicts Sac and Fox tribe members dancing in tribute to a Two-Spirit leader, an individual born male who lived as a female.
George Catlin, Dance to the Berdash (1835–37). Smithsonian American Art Museum.
“The Classical past is widely recognized in terms of same-sex desire. This was fairly ubiquitous and unproblematic,” Katz noted. What changed, he argued, is the arrival of colonialism, which “carried that delimited binary across the globe and took what were often extremely accepting indigenous cultures and essentially turned them homophobic.”
Proof is in a later portion, titled Colonialism and Resistance, which explores how Europeans imagined foreign territories and cultures as overrun by what they deemed deviant sexual relations. Artists resisted. Mexican painter Saturnino Herrán, in 1916, produced Nuestros dioses antiguos, which celebrates a pre-colonial indigenous sexuality by depicting ancient gods posing, in Katz’s words, “like camp queens”; while Richmond Barthé, in his 1935 masterpiece Feral Benga, deployed European sculpture traditions to capture a Black sensuality.
Saturnino Herrán, Nuestros dioses antiguos (1916). Colección Andrés Blaisten, México.
In between, in sections including Portraits, Relationships, and History, the exhibition gathers a host of queer art icons. There are paintings of Gertrude Stein and Oscar Wilde, as well as self-portraits by Romaine Brooks and Florine Stettheimer. There’s a 1923 female nude by Tamara de Lempicka that shatters gender norms, and illustrator Gerda Wegener’s drawings of her partner Lili Elbe, who was born male (and immortalized in the 2015 film The Danish Girl).
Félix Vallotton, Gertrude Stein (1907). Photo: Mitro Hood.
Other queer relationships come to life in Alice Austen’s 1891 photographs and Marie Laurencin’s paintings of young women mid-dance. Just as intimate are Thomas Eakins’s 1887 painting of his partner Walt Whitman, and Rosa Bonheur’s sketch of her lover Anna Klumpke, which is making a rare outing.
In another unique showing, eight paintings by controversial German artist Elisàr von Kupffer will be making their U.S. debut at “The First Homosexuals.” These works once hung in the Sanctuarium Artis Elisarion, a compound established by Von Kupffer in Switzerland in 1900 as a haven for Clarism, his neo-religious movement that opposed divisions by gender. Their styles bear out the artist’s Renaissance influences, but their subject matter, noted Katz, “illustrated his ideals.” One painting apparently portrays the first same-sex wedding in art history.
Elisàr von Kupffer, La danza (1918). © Municipality of Minusio – Centro Elisarion. Photo: Claudio Berger.
Bringing together these many artworks from across the globe was not without its challenges. Katz rued the lack of artifacts from India (which balked at the show’s title), Russia (loans from which were canceled due to the ongoing war), and Slovakia (whose new populist government scrapped all loans). A Columbian collector, Katz added, also pulled their loans, feeling the works wouldn’t be safe in the U.S. under the Trump administration. “We’ve really fallen,” he reflected.
The last is unsurprising, though, considering the president’s crusade against so-called “gender ideology extremism”—in short, his bid to erase transgender people. In its way, the show offers a fine, resonant riposte that “queer and trans are inseparable,” Katz said, “that the literal first definition of queerness was of a kind of third sex.” He added: “Most other countries beyond the West fully understood that there’s a range of positions within one’s acceptance or refusal of gender.”
Tamara de Lempicka, Nu assis de profil (1923). Photo courtesy of Sotheby’s.
That latitude may have been first restricted by the emergence of the term “homosexual,” but to Katz, it doesn’t have to remain that way.
“The notion of homosexuality is an historical notion, and as with all things historical, is subject to change. My first hope is that we will come to understand that the definition of sexuality is not a natural definition, but an historical one,” he said. “In the final analysis for me, that is a position of liberation, because it means that we recognize that other possibilities exist.”
“The First Homosexuals: The Birth of a New Identity, 1869–1939” is on view at Wrightwood 659, 659 W Wrightwood Ave, Chicago, Illinois, May 2–July 26, 2025. More

London has been hit by a heatwave this week and the temperature at Marble Arch rose even higher on Thursday night as British pop star-turned-artist Robbie Williams opened a solo exhibition on his home turf to a crowd of hundreds.
“Radical Honesty” at Moco Museum London, features nearly two dozen canvas works and sculptures by Williams revolving around the themes of modern-day anxiety and emotional vulnerability inspired by his personal experience. The show is Williams’s third collaboration with the museum, which has been presenting solo shows of his works at its spaces in Barcelona and Amsterdam.
Robbie Williams posing with this canvas work Radical Honesty II at the launch of his solo exhibition at Moco Museum London on May 1, 2025. © Photography by Rob Jones for Khroma Collective.
Unlike most art exhibition openings, this one at the pink-themed three-story complex carried a pop concert flavor. Dozens of fans waited outside the venue for hours, including a group that flew in from Germany and arrived at the barricaded entrance at 9 a.m. in the hope of meeting the 51-year-old celebrity. Invited guests arriving from 8 p.m had to occupy themselves with the works on show on the ground floor and the basement level, while waiting for the star’s speech before they could be allowed to climb up the stairs to the first floor, where the exhibition is held.
At about 9 p.m., Williams made his appearance in a denim outfit and greeted the 200-strong crowd. Among them were British TV personalities Leigh Francis and Andy Goldstein, as well as British artists Chris Levine and Philip Colbert.
“There is a lot of negativities when it comes to celebrity doing art. They shouldn’t do it,” Williams said in his speech, addressing the criticisms he has received about his art-making. The star long been an art collector and has been exhibiting his work, including a showcase at Sotheby’s in 2022 and the launch of a ceramics series last year. But he continues to be questioned about the intentions behind his work.
A general view of the atmosphere at the opening of Robbie Williams’s new solo art exhibition ‘Radical Honesty’ at Moco Museum on May 1, 2025 in London, England. Photo by Dave Benett.
“The question is always why. It’s always with a dismissive term,” he continued. “If I listened to what the critics say, I wouldn’t do anything. I wouldn’t be anyone. I wouldn’t go anyone. And yet, I stand here before you with complete humility.”
Lionel Logchines, who co-founded Moco Museum with Kim Logchines-Prins, his wife and the museum’s curator, said the couple began collecting Williams’s works three years ago. The couple first discovered Williams’s iPad drawings on Instagram, noting that the “Angels” singer-songwriter had already been drawing for nearly two decades while on tour. The pair now has five works including paintings and sculptures, he noted. He likes the humor and discussions about mental health issues in Williams’s works and how they resonate with viewers’ lives and inner selves.
“It makes you feel good, that you are not alone,” Logchines told me at the opening. “For example, at a party, there’s so much anxiety for me, and he’s honest about it. That’s what I love. His work is really strong, with powerful messages. I think he will be the next Banksy.”
While most of the attendees of the opening reception did not seem to be the typical art crowd (some were busy posing for selfies with the art or trying to snap a picture of the star), there was no lack of audience members trying to take a serious look at the works featured at the show. Williams’s creations hang alongside other works by the likes of Takashi Murakami, Banksy, George Condo, Daniel Arsham, and KAWS, on loan from various private collections.
Robbie Williams sits on his “introvert chair” at his solo exhibition ‘Radical Honesty’ at Moco Museum London. © Photography by Rob Jones for Khroma Collective.
The colorful works are approachable, with reflective statements spelled across canvas that can easily resonate with a general audience. It is not hard to link with them with Williams’s other recent screen offerings such as his eponymous Netflix documentary and biopic Better Man, as the works are distilled from his personal journey to fame and battle with dyslexia and ADHD.
For example, his large-scale canvas depicting hilarious morning mirror pep talks and the candid thoughts of introverts struggling in social situations drew the most attention. In one painting of a red cassette tape, he penned: “Just because you’re dyslexic doesnt mean Youre not stupid.” He dedicates a cozy off-white one-seater in one room to introverts, calling it an “introvert chair” with a canvas work on the wall behind the chair that spells out the “rules of engagement,” instructing people not to engage with the introvert sitting on the chair.
Prescribed Identity is a large-scale sculpture in the shape of a hoodie with many small pockets, in which Williams lays out his history with addiction and self-medication. Like & Subscribe is an installation of a marble headstone with “I’m dead now please life & subscribe” inscribed on the surface, mocking social media culture.
“In a world obsessed with keeping it together, embracing the chaos might just be the most radical thing you can do,” Williams noted in a statement.
“Robbie Williams: Radical Honesty” is on view at Moco Museum, 1-4 Marble Arch, London, for a limited time. More

The unmistakeable, eccentrically stylized world of Wes Anderson has long been admired by the more artistically inclined of film buffs. It even inspired an Instagram account, book, and series of international exhibitions dedicated to that rare moment when the carefully curated look somehow comes about unplanned.
Now, the American film director’s unique vision is getting its institutional debut with a dedicated exhibition at the Design Museum in London opening this fall. With access to Anderson’s personal archives, the show’s curators have picked out more than 600 items—including costumes, props, personal notes, and paintings—that offer an unprecedented, behind the scenes glimpse into his creative process.
Vending machines from Atelier Simon Weisse for the film Asteroid City. Photo: Richard Round-Turner, © the Design Museum.
“Each Wes Anderson picture plunges the viewer into a world with its own codes, motifs, references, and with sumptuous and instantly recognizable sets and costumes,” explained Lucia Savi, the Design Museum’s head of curatorial and interpretation. “Every single object in a Wes Anderson film is very personal to him—they are not simply props, they are fully formed pieces of art and design that make his inventive worlds come to life.”
Millions of Anderson fans the world over have marveled over his greatest hits like The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) and Moonrise Kingdom (2012), and are now waiting with bated breath for the release of The Phoenician Scheme (2025) at the end of this month. But where did it all begin?
Model of The Grand Budapest Hotel. Photo: © Thierry Stefanopoulos – La Cinémathèque Française.
The Design Museum will take visitors on a journey back in time with its full screening of Anderson’s first 14-minute short film Bottle Rocket from 1993, starring Owen Wilson, which went on to inspire his 1996 feature film debut of the same name. From there, the story of Anderson’s varied filmography unfolds in roughly chronological order, ending with the 2023 short The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar.
Among the highlights that were announced today, on the wacky director’s 56th birthday, is the very same model of the Grand Budapest Hotel that was used to capture its entire lengthy pink facade in the beloved 2014 film.
Michael Taylor, Boy with Apple by Johannes Van Hoytl the Younger for the film The Grand Budapest Hotel. Image courtesy the artist.
Eagle-eyed art lovers will immediately recognize the painting Boy with Apple, which was memorably billed as a “priceless Renaissance” portrait in The Grand Budapest Hotel. The composition by British artist Micheal Taylor was commissioned by Anderson as a prop for the film.
A whole cast of characters can be found in the puppets used for stop motion films like Fantastic Mr Fox (2009) and Isle of Dogs (2018), which appear alongside their meticulously crafted miniature sets. Interpretative material will further elaborate on the director’s preference for traditional filmmaking techniques like stop motion animation, while sketches and early maquettes will provide some insight into how Anderson’s now well-known personalities first came to life.
Rat puppet by Arch Model Studio for Fantastic Mr. Fox. Photo: Richard Round-Turner, © the Design Museum.
Elsewhere, amid sketches and storyboards, museum-goers can get up close to the costumes worn by Hollywood stars like Ralph Fiennes, Scarlett Johansson, Bill Murray, and Ben Stiller. These include the Fendi fur coat that Gwyneth Paltrow wore as Margot Tenenbaum in the 2001 film The Royal Tenenbaums and the outfit worn by Tilda Swinton when she played Madam D in The Grand Budapest Hotel.
“It is an absolute gift that even as a young filmmaker Wes Anderson had the vision and foresight to save all his props and beautifully crafted objects for his own archive,” said the Design Museum’s chief curator Johanna Agerman Ross. “We are thrilled to be the first to fully dive into the archive’s full riches.”
“Wes Anderson: The Archives” is on view at the Design Museum, 224-238 Kensington High St, London, November 21, 2025–July 26, 2026. Tickets are now on sale. A slimmed down version of the same retrospective is currently on view at the Cinémathèque Française in Paris through July 27.  More

North Seymour is a scrubby patch of land in the Pacific Ocean inhabited solely by the sea lions and iguanas that are endemic to the Galápagos. In 2009, the then-Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall stopped off on the island, which is roughly three times the size of Windsor Castle and its grounds, and gazed out at the endless blue beyond.
The moment was captured by the painter Richard Foster, who had joined the royal visit around Chile, Brazil, and Ecuador as its official tour artist. Foster depicts the couple standing before an outcrop of lava rocks with their backs turned to the viewer. The Duchess clutches a little white parasol, which, together with the work’s sketchy quality, is reminiscent of those Impressionist forays into the French countryside in the late 19th century.
Richard Foster, Their Royal Highnesses on North Seymour Island (2009). Photo: courtesy Royal Collection Trust.
Their Royal Highnesses on North Seymour Island (2009) is set to be exhibited at Buckingham Palace along with more than 70 works created by artists who have accompanied King Charles on international tours over the past four decades. “The King’s Tour Artists” will be on display in the ballroom from July 10 as the palace opens up its state rooms for summer visitors. The exhibition includes the work of 42 artists, with many of the works being shown to the public for the first time.
The tradition was born in 1985 when the then-Prince of Wales invited John Ward, a longtime royal favorite who had recently painted the christenings of Prince William and Prince Harry, to join his tour of Italy as its official artist. Ward’s brief was to draw or paint whatever he found inspiring, a duty, the Royal Collection Trust is keen to note, that was funded at the Prince’s own expense.
Ward boarded HMY Britannia in Catania as the yacht was en route to Venice and produced a simple sketch from the stern of the vessel. It’s a tranquil scene, one organizers said captures a rare moment of rest, with the afterdeck cleared of people, the Royal Navy flag fluttering in the breeze, and seagulls hanging overhead.
John Ward, From the Afterdeck of HMY Britannia (1985). Photo: courtesy Royal Collection Trust.
“The freedom given to each artist to capture a personal impression of the countries visited has led to the formation of a rich and varied collection,” the show’s curator Kate Heard said in a statement. “Encompassing landscapes, figure studies, and still life subjects, these works are testament to His Majesty’s deep engagement with and encouragement of artists over the past four decades.”
King Charles views the role of official tour artist as providing valuable opportunities for both established and emerging artists to create a unique and concentrated body of work. Several have witnessed historic royal engagements. Susannah Fiennes, for instance, was present for the British handover of Hong Kong to China in 1997. It was the last tour for the Britannia and Fiennes depicted the symbolic image of a pair of sailors lowering and raising the flag.
Susannah Fiennes, Two Yachtsmen on HMY Britannia (1997). Photo: courtesy Royal Collection Trust.
Other highlights include Mary Anne Aytoun Ellis’s towering painting of Kaieteur Falls in Guyana; Colin Watson’s Impressionist depiction of an abbot in Todaiji Temple in Nara, Japan; and Phillip Butah’s portrayal of a Kenyan elephant sanctuary that King Charles visited in 2023. Butah recently provided a portrait of King Charles and Queen Camilla for British magazine Tatler.
Colin Watson, The Abbot, Todaiji Temple, Nara (2008). Photo: courtesy Royal Collection Trust.
The exhibition is accompanied by the publication, The Art of Royal Travel: Journeys with the King. It features more than 100 illustrations and details the stories behind the works.
“By inviting an artist to join a royal tour in 1985, King Charles started a tradition that has continued unbroken to the current day,” the book’s editor the Earl of Rosslyn said in a statement. “[The artists knew] they were working for someone in sympathy with the artistic craft, a patron of the arts and a passionate advocate for cultural life.”
“The King’s Tour Artists” is on view at Buckingham Palace, London, July 10–September 28. More

Last week, the artist Oscar Yi Hou was admiring a 3D self-portrait by Juliana Huxtable. The piece hadn’t yet been hung—it rested on the floor, still wrapped in plastic—but Huxtable’s figure was already commanding: thigh-high crimson boots, reptilian skin, and outstretched bat wings.
“It’s about power and hybridization,” Yi Hou said. “It’s kind of furrycore, but it specifically looks at the idea of the cyborg—the breakdown of boundaries between animal and human.” He paused and asked, “And what does that show about contingencies around race and gender as well?”
Juliana Huxtable, Bat 2 (2019). Courtesy of the artist and James Fuentes, New York, and Los Angeles.
Yi Hou was at the Tribeca gallery James Fuentes. Though closed to the public, it was buzzing with activity as a squad of art handlers unpacked and installed the works for the new group show “Deviations.” Known as a breakout star on the gallery’s roster, the 26-year-old Yi Hou takes on a new role here—as curator. It followed his first exhibition with the gallery in 2021, shortly after he graduated. There, nearly 70 percent of the works in that first exhibition were acquired by institutions including the Brooklyn Museum, the New York Historical Society, and Grinnell College. “Most artists wait a lifetime for that level of institutional support,” said James Fuentes, the gallery’s namesake founder.
His solo show “The Beat of Life,” held this past November, was a runaway success. “We could have sold the show out 20 times over,” Fuentes said. Its centerpiece—Birds of a Feather (Chinatown Gangsters), a triptych featuring himself and his friends the artists Amanda Ba (a classmate at Columbia) and Sasha Gordon—was acquired by the Brooklyn Museum.
The current exhibition, curated by the artist, brings together 12 artists—all of whom identify as queer or trans. “It wasn’t intentional,” Yi Hou said. “They’re just my friends.” Fittingly, the exhibition feels like a natural extension of his practice: Yi Hou’s specialty is portraits of intimates and those in his expanded social orbit. His paintings often layer this contemporary closeness with historic and symbolic depth, incorporating East Asian motifs—dragons, flaming pearls, Chinese characters, and other symbology. On view through May 7, the show features artists like James Bantone, Nash Glynn, recent Guggenheim fellow Martine Gutierrez, Sam Penn, and Yi Hou himself.
Cameron Patricia Downey, 0_o (2025). Courtesy of the artist and James Fuentes, New York and Los Angeles.
We walk by Cameron Patricia Downey’s absurdist wicker-back chair sculpture. Its steel base is elongated so dramatically that it must lean against the wall like a ladder. It is a standout piece. “The seats in the show are unusable,” Yi Hou said. “It’s about the idea that a body could be there, but it very much could not. It’s the illusion of function.”
He motioned to Ser Serpas’s looming sculpture that melds a weightlifting bench, a cracked rear windshield, and a hulking, dilapidated 1980s treadmill. Sometimes, Serpas’s sculptures can present an initial strangeness that borders on comical, but the kitsch of outdated detritus quickly gives way to something more apocalyptic. (Serpas’s largest solo show to date, “Of my life,” opens at Kunsthalle Basel in June.) “It was fun to assemble,” Yi Hou said. “Just seeing the typeface and design, all this residue… It’s seen better days. Although actually, I’d say now, it’s in its best days—as an assemblage.”
An installation view of “Deviations” Photo: New Document. Courtesy of the artist and James Fuentes, New York, and Los Angeles.
The painter Michael Stamm layered a still life of a vessel with a Fire Island Pines sunset vignette in Dosing (FIP). It might seem a quaint juxtaposition, but hints of pharmacological excess are overlaid as well. “The ones who get it will get it,” Yi Hou said. “This is about our island. It’s alluding to chemical pleasure in a queer context. I’ve become friends with a lot of the artists here in places of pleasure, like parties or raves.”
There is a distinct native nightlife element to the assembled artists—all roads seem to lead to Basement. I’ve crossed paths with most of them at the Ridgewood techno club; Huxtable is also a highly skilled DJ and sometimes plays there. Langberg showed a selection of nightclub paintings at Victoria Miro in London last year—including the work Basement (2023), which captures a scene on the dancefloor. Yi Hou makes a cameo appearance in that painting and the club’s cofounder, Téa Abashidze and a swath of regulars were at the vernissage. “It’s an important space,” Yi Hou said, “socially and culturally. A lot of people converge there.”
“There’s a blurred boundary between one’s professional artistic life and their hedonistic life—or the life they lead outside their career,” Yi Hou said. “For me, it’s one and the same. I don’t differentiate between my professional life and my personal life. The people I’m friends with are consistent across these different worlds. There’s a kind of correspondence between how people are in a club setting or a rave and how they are outside of that.”
Oscar Yi Hou, The Perfect Initiate, aka: At the Preki (2025). Courtesy of James Fuentes.
Fuentes said it felt “intuitively right” to offer him to curate an exhibition. “Oscar is the artist who most consistently brings other artists to my attention,” he added.
We stand in front of Yi Hou’s piece, which is a portrait of the artist Emilio Tamez; this isn’t the first time he’s depicted her. “She’s a muse in many ways,” Yi Hou said. “She’s very beautiful. I find it hard not to paint her.” Tamez is rendered in a fur coat and pensively looks away from the viewer, her expression hard to gauge.
This show is threaded with codes—insider references, unknown connections and histories, and hidden signals shared among friends. Across the room, Tamez—glamorous in a camisole and jeans—was assembling her piece Surrender. “There’s the let-go of surrender—but also a white-knuckle kind of grip that comes right before it,” she explained. The color-saturated photograph shows her standing before a dying tree, her face obscured by flowing white garments, arms outstretched as if summoning some invisible force.
Emilio Tamez, Surrender (2024–2025). Courtesy of the artist and James Fuentes, New York and Los Angeles.
“Everyone was keeling over,” she said of the ten-hour, overnight shoot in London’s Primrose Hill, “but I kept waiting for the wind. Finally, it came—and that was the last frame I shot.” Mounted on birch, the piece holds more secrets. Tamez pressed her own blood onto the wood, leaving faintly visible handprints around the edges. “I went to Catholic school—maybe you can tell from the nature of my work,” she said. “I have a lot of prayers I use while I’m working, and one of them is: ‘I wish to see the innocent and forgiven world. Amen.’” The line is scratched into the wood, hidden beneath the print.
The artist Oscar Yi Hou. Photo: Clifton Mooney. Courtesy of the artist.
“Oscar’s post-academic community is encapsulated in this show,” said Fuentes. “The conceptualization and what it’s putting out there, is feeding into the development of the work he’s doing in the studio now—it’ll culminate in his next show.” Yi Hou offers a hint of his next steps. “I’m working toward a new series,” he said. “I think it’s going to be called ‘Night Crawling.’ You can deduce what you will from that.” More

Much of the current conversation around the design boom has been surprisingly limited in scope: the new generation of collectors realizing that the sofa beneath their masterwork painting matters. Or, as the art market experiences periods of volatility, design is seen as more accessible—a $20,000 chair versus a six-figure painting.
But what’s missing from this discourse is a deeper consideration of content. Besides price point, the distinction between high art and high design frequently comes down to functionality—or the idea of functionality, as many objects are far too exquisite to risk actual use. What draws people in is not only beauty or utility, but narrative: a richness of symbolism, story, and cultural meaning that design is uniquely equipped to carry.
Which brings us to “Making Home,” the seventh installment of the Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum’s Triennial—a show that expands the idea of design far beyond objects and aesthetics. At most sprawling contemporary design exhibitions, there are plenty of melting chairs and purposefully ugly stunt couches. But here, there is no schtick; depth is the premise. Making Home comprises 25 newly commissioned projects that explore the idea of home—its memory, its construction, its rupture. “Making Home” presents a deeply narrative, cross-cultural vision of American life. The exhibition is on view through August 10.
Robert Earle Paige, Fahara: Chicago in View (2024). Photo: Nikola Bradonjic Photography. Courtesy of Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.
“We were interested in engaging a topic that was as relatable as possible, that everyone could come to with a point of view,” said Alexandra Cunningham Cameron, the museum’s curator of contemporary design. “‘Home’ is a critical framework that everyone was responding to from a curatorial perspective—we never defined home. It’s defined through the perspectives of the designers and artists that are in the show.”
Cunningham Cameron co-curated the show with Christina L. De León, acting deputy director of curatorial and associate curator of Latino design at Cooper Hewitt; and Michelle Joan Wilkinson, curator of architecture and design at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture. It marks the first time that Cooper Hewitt has partnered with another Smithsonian museum to organize its Triennial.
The exhibition unfolds across three floors organized by themes—Going Home, Seeking Home, and Building Home—tracing how personal, cultural, and political histories are embedded in domestic space. The institution is in the former Gilded Age mansion of Andrew Carnegie, a setting that adds a frisson of American dream mythology to the experience—and a gobsmacking architectural backdrop that both complements and challenges the works on view.
Joe Baker and Lenape Center, Welcome to Territory (2023). Photo: Elliot Goldstein © Smithsonian Institution.
“Our museum is in a former home—and a very particular one,” said Cunningham Cameron. “It’s a monument connected to American history, American exceptionalism, and American philanthropy. What does that mean? How does the house have a presence?”
The Triennial kicks off resoundingly, directly across from the museum’s grand entryway, where a series of turkey feather capes are suspended from the ceiling and seem to float spectrally. At many cultural institutions, land acknowledgments can feel like rote gestures. Joe Baker’s Welcome to Territory is something else entirely—a powerful, haunting reminder of the original inhabitants of this land. A New York–based artist and co-founder of the Lenape Center, Baker draws from his heritage to channel a history of erasure with grace. The capes’ emptiness suggests both absence and ongoing presence, a poignant reflection of displacement—yet the spiritual presence endures. Surrounding the installation is wallpaper patterned with stylized tulip trees, a species sacred to the tribe.
Another artist, Amie Siegel, delved into wall coverings. “She often looks at the connection between design and architecture and systems of value and power,” said Cunningham Cameron. Siegel’s installation Views / Vues interrogates the legacy of 19th-century French panoramic wallpapers—some conjuring distant lands and mythologies, others the antebellum South. A film includes scenes of a Black marching band joyously careening through a Southern mansion and the silent exterior of a plantation house, juxtaposed with the wallpaper’s romanticized vignettes. The work is projected onto a screen floating in what appears to be a grand ballroom; on the reverse is a collage of salvaged scenic wallpaper.
Still from Dream Homes (2024), a film by PIN–UP directed by Michael Bullock and Michael Cukr. Courtesy of PIN–UP.
I have a habit of breezing past film components in expansive shows, but I’m glad I lingered at Making Home. “We wanted to not just present objects and architecture and installations,” said Cunningham Cameron, “but also tell stories about design. Film became an important mechanism for doing that.” Among the most compelling examples is Dream Homes, a triad of heartfelt mini-documentaries produced by architecture platform PIN–UP and directed by Michael Bullock and Michael Cukr. The films profile nontraditional queer collective living spaces across the U.S., from a trans artist-run mansion in rural Massachusetts to the Arkansas retreat led by Stonewall icon Miss Major.
Installation of Hālau Kūkulu Hawaiʻi: A Home That Builds Multitudes by After Oceanic Built Environments Lab and Leong Leong Architecture in “Making Home—Smithsonian Design Triennial” at Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum. Photo: Ann Sunwoo © Smithsonian Institution
Hālau Kūkulu Hawaiʻi: A Home That Builds Multitudes, by After Oceanic Built Environments Lab and Leong Leong Architecture, includes a film documenting the collaborative construction of a traditional Hawaiian hale in Waipiʻo Valley, using Indigenous lashing techniques passed down through generations. A full-scale prototype of the structure is on view in the exhibition, embodying a gesture toward cultural, ecological, and architectural restoration across the Hawaiian Islands.
Davóne Tines, Hugh Hayden, and Zack Winokur, Living Room: Orlean, Virginia (2023). Photo: Elliot Goldstein © Smithsonian Institution.
A celebrated bass-baritone with a genre-defying career, Davóne Tines spends most of the year touring. Living Room: Orlean, Virginia is a response to that rootlessness—a collaboration with artist Hugh Hayden and director Zack Winokur that channels the memory of Tines’s grandparents’ home in rural Virginia, set on a gently rocking plinth. Throughout the show’s run, it also doubles as a performance platform.
AIRIE, Ebb + Flow (2023). Photo: Elliot Goldstein © Smithsonian Institution.
Tucked into the museum’s glass-walled Conservatory, Ebb + Flow assembles field recordings and visual design rooted in South Florida’s endangered Everglades. “You have to sit and listen to the oral histories,” said Cunningham Cameron. “For decades they’ve been inviting artists, architects, and designers to spend time in this UNESCO World Heritage site, this extraordinary ecosystem.”
Organized by Artists in Residence in the Everglades (AIRIE), the installation includes a film and audio component. Visitors don headphones and sit on cushions printed with swamp-life illustrations—flamingos, alligators, and bald cypress trees with sprawling root systems—designed by Christina Pettersson, while listening to stories that evoke a landscape shaped by ecological precarity, memory, and Indigenous presence.
Curry J. Hackett, So That You All Won’t Forget: Speculations on a Black Home in Rural Virginia (2023). Photo: Elliot Goldstein. Courtesy of Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.
Curry Jackson Hackett’s So That You All Won’t Forget: Speculations on a Black Home in Rural Virginia is a transportive, multisensory grotto lined with dried tobacco leaves. The crop has a complex history, and the scent is powerful—a sensory trigger for its unresolved legacy. Hackett’s family has grown and sold tobacco for generations on land they own in Prospect, Virginia—making the crop, in his words, “an unlikely celebration of an otherwise haunting crop.” Presented by his transdisciplinary studio Wayside, the installation blends memory, material, and projection: cast-iron skillets, embellished church fans, and flickering video channels form a constellation of “speculative objects.” He wielded artificial intelligence to imagine much of the space, with one exception—his mother’s painting, the only object left untouched.
Heather Dewey-Hagborg, Is a Biobank a Home? (2023). Photo: Elliot Goldstein. Courtesy of Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.
The show continues upstairs with more experimental works, including a trauma-informed design by Designing Justice + Designing Spaces. Their Mobile Refuge Rooms installation—intended for those reentering society from incarceration—invites visitors to step inside and interact with customizable furnishings. Artist and biohacker Heather Dewey-Hagborg’s Is a Biobank a Home? is staged as a vast laboratory, lined with test tubes, and explores the afterlives of our DNA in institutional storage.
Room by room, Making Home unfolds into a wide-ranging reflection on how expansive the idea of design can be. “We hope that as you navigate,” said Cunningham Cameron, “it’s a space for exploring ideas or being provoked or having hard conversations—and that people get something out of it.” More

The love-him-or-hate-him street artist KAWS (b. 1974), beloved of hypebeasts everywhere, will get a solo show at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. It will be the first West Coast museum exhibition for the 50-year-old artist, real name Brian Donnelly, who was born in Jersey City and lives in Brooklyn.
The exhibition, “KAWS: Family,” is a traveling show organized by the Art Gallery of Ontario and currently on view at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Bentonville, Ark.
KAWS is a polarizing figure in the art world, having built his success not in blue chip art galleries or on the auction block—although he’s since had plenty of both—but in the graffiti scene and with sales of his figurines, clothing, and other collectibles.
His cartoon-like characters, instantly identifiable by their skull and cross-bone-shaped heads and the signature Xs drawn across their eyes, are all appropriations. There is KAWS’s take on Mickey Mouse, called Companion; his Elmo-like sidekick, known as BFF; and the Michelin Man-esque Chum, as well as the Simpsons, rebranded the “Kimpsons.”
The artist KAWS. Photo: Audemars Piguet.
“We are delighted to bring KAWS’s family of characters to the Bay Area with this exhibition. Referencing iconic animated figures and posed in ways that strike at the heart of human emotion, KAWS’s characters are inherently relatable,” Daryl McCurdy, SFMOMA’s curatorial associate of architecture and design, told me in an email. “From diehard fans to those experiencing the artist’s work for the first time, visitors will be surrounded by the feelings and culture that connects us.”
The artist does imbue his work with emotion. Many of his compositions are about love and loss, expressed through the bonds between Companion and BFF in surprisingly tender fashion. But it can be hard to take KAWS and his cartoonish aesthetic seriously—there’s a reason my colleague Annie Armstrong recently chose him as one of the prime examples of what she’s dubbed red-chip art, a bro-y sub genre of works that appeal in part because they look cheap, toylike, and mass-produced, with visual appeal that translates easily on digital screens.
When my colleague Ben Davis attempted to explain the appeals of KAWS, he wrote that while it fit neatly into our “era of reboots and remakes, of regurgitated intellectual property,” “the work’s very vacantness seems to suggest a low-level depression running through society, so pervasive that it serves as a neutral sign of the art’s nowness, rather than reading as a personal feeling expressed by the artist.”
American artist KAWS, real name Brian Donnelly, poses with an artwork titled SEEING during a press preview for the exhibition ‘KAWS: NEW FICTION’ at the Serpentine North gallery in London on January 18, 2022. Photo by Tolga Akmen/AFP via Getty Images.
KAWS has his origins in the graffiti world—his moniker a tag he chose as a teenager writing in Manhattan because he liked the way the letters looked together. The Companion has its origins in advertisements KAWS would deface. In the decades since, flat planes of bold, saturated color and strong lines have remained characteristic of his works. On a trip to Japan in 1999, the artist, who had graduated from New York’s School of Visual Arts, began making his first collectible toys of the Companion.
Something about the work resonated, and KAWS quickly began making inroads with the fashion and hip hop communities. Commissions for life-size Companion sculptures—now popular office lobby art—came rolling in. Showing an impressive business savviness, he struck deals with design and fashion brands to create everything from skateboard decks to sneakers, attracting celebrity fans like Swizz Beatz, Pharrell Williams, and Kendall Jenner. Kanye West even tapped KAWS to do the cover art for his 2008 album 808s & Heartbreak.
The popularity and desirability of KAWS merchandise is perhaps best illustrated by the 2019 drop of a KAWS UNIQLO collaboration that sparked literal riots in stores in China among frenzied shoppers eager to secure their loot.
KAWS x UNIQLO UT Summer 2019 Promotional images. Courtesy of Uniqlo.
But the artist also slowly built up his presence in the art world, starting with a small show at Connecticut’s Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum in 2010. The Brooklyn Museum was another early adopter, thanks to the gift of an 18-foot-tall sculpture of two wooden Companion figures, titled Along the Way, in 2015—the same year Swizz Beatz joined the board. It made its debut as part of a small lobby show with two paintings, followed up by a major survey show, “KAWS: What Party,” in 2021. (The giant statue remains a fixture in the museum’s lobby to this day.)
And even at museums, KAWS’s work was well-positioned to gain audiences that might not normally engage with art museums. In 2022, an outing at London’s Serpentine Galleries included a virtual exhibition component hosted by the online video game Fortnite. Though art critics were largely unmoved, the response from gamers was overwhelmingly positive.
KAWS has also staged a series of high-profile public art installations of monumental sculptures, including a 115-foot-long inflatable Companion floating in Hong Kong’s Victoria Harbor in 2019, and a 150-foot-long figure lying on the ground beside Indonesia’s Prambanan Temple in 2023. During lockdown, he even launched an augmented reality version, “COMPANION (EXPANDED),” in 11 cities around the world.
KAWS: NEW FICTION in Fortnite. © Epic Games
But for art world insiders, KAWS began to appear on the radar in 2018, when his sales at auction began to heat up. He broke the $1 million barrier for the first time, and then four more times, selling his 20 most-expensive works on the block to date for a total of $33.8 million on the year, according to the Artnet Price Database.
That December, at Art Basel Miami Beach, Pace Prints instituted a lottery system to manage sales of a new $65,000 KAWS print that promptly sold out.
It was a harbinger of a bigger moment still to come: the HK$115.9 million ($14.8 million) sale of THE KAWS ALBUM at Sotheby’s Hong Kong in April 2019. The painting, which was expected to sell for just HK$8 million ($1 million), is the artist’s rendition of The Yellow Album, a spoof by The Simpsons of the Beatles’ famous 1967 Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album cover. (Soon after, the artist dropped longtime dealer Perrotin, which has locations in Paris, New York, and Asia, for Skarstedt, of New York, Paris, and London.)

For the art world, there was officially no more ignoring KAWS. The artist has continued his success in both lanes, with projects including a Companion watch from Audemars Piguet in 2024 as well as a show featuring his own personal collection at New York’s Drawing Center that closed in January. (Donnelly’s perhaps surprisingly refined tastes include a penchant for Outsider Art and Peter Saul [b. 1934].)
Bringing the KAWS show to SFMOMA is something of a surprising choice for museum director Christopher Bedford, who came to the institution from the Baltimore Museum of Art in 2022.
There, Bedford had made a name for himself for his progressive efforts to diversify the collection, controversially deaccessioning works by white men to raise funds to buy works by artists of color and women. (SFMOMA and the AGO actually took similar measures.) In 2020, the museum pledged to only acquire art by women. Bedford later cancelled even more divisive plan to sell paintings by Brice Marden, Clyfford Still, and Andy Warhol to fund diversity initiatives.
Bedford’s appointment seemed indicative of SFMOMA’s commitment to expanding the canon. When the museum completed a massive expansion in 2016, it unveiled the new Fisher Collection galleries. Under the terms of its donation, three-quarters of those rooms are dedicated to showcasing the contemporary art collection of Gap founders Doris and Donald Fisher. Those works, representing a veritable who’s-who of 20th-century American art history, are almost exclusively by white men.
In contrast, Bedford’s tenure to date has seen a string of solo shows for women of color (some of which were planned before his appointment) including Zanele Muholi (b. 1972), Pacita Abad (1946–2004), Hung Liu (1948–2021), Anna Sew Hoy (b. 1976), Sadie Barnette (b. 1984), and Amy Sherald (b. 1973), the last of which just traveled to the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York. Currently, SFMOMA is hosting a large Kara Walker (b. 1969) installation and the first posthumous retrospective for Ruth Asawa (1926–2013), with the first major retrospective for Suzanne Jackson (b. 1944) set to open in the fall.
But the museum is also under pressure to reverse a significant drop in attendance from before the pandemic. Nearly 900,000 visitors in 2019 were down to about 600,000 in 2024. Last June, Bedford spoke with the New York Times about strategies for bringing in bigger audiences, including the museum’s sports-themed “Get in the Game,” show which featured interactive ping pong and foosball table sculptures, among other works.
“We are attempting, without a compromise in scholarship, to meet people more where they are in terms of their interests,” he said.
A sculpture by KAWS is pictured in the “KAWS + Warhol” exhibit at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Photo by Adam Schrader.
With KAWS’s built-in audience of fanboys, including 4.4 million Instagram followers, he certainly would fit the bill. He is mainstream in a way most artists could never dream of, and one of few artists working today with widespread name recognition.
“KAWS has a distinct appeal to a vast array of audiences with his iconic characters and meticulous work in a stunning range of mediums,” Bedford said in a statement. “The playful and contemplative works—a dynamic blend of his street art practice and formal education—will offer something for everyone.”
Spanning over 30 years of work, the show will include over 100 artworks, with paintings and sculptures as well as KAWS product collaborations and collectibles. There will be cereal boxes, sneakers, and album covers, as well as one of the loveseats KAWS made with Brazilian design studio Estúdio Campana using stuffed animals as upholstery.
The blockbuster potential of the 2021 Brooklyn Museum KAWS exhibition was limited by COVID-era capacity and social distancing restrictions, but the show still drew over 150,000 people. Tickets sold out, with a burgeoning resale market from scalpers on eBay, according to the New York Times. At AGO, “KAWS: Family” had 426,660 visitors during its nearly year-long run.
“KAWS: Family” was on view at the Art Gallery of Ontario, 317 Dundas Street West Toronto, Ontario, Canada, September 27, 2023–August 9, 2024; and is at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, 600 Museum Way, Bentonville, Arkansas, March 15–July 28, 2025. It will travel to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, 151 Third Street, San Francisco, California, November 15, 2025–spring 2026. More

Fiber art is having much more than a moment, with increasing market attention paid to artists working in this medium as well as institutional recognition left and right. As just one prominent example, New York’s Museum of Modern Art recently opened the excellent show “Woven Histories: Textiles and Modern Abstraction,” featuring more than a century’s worth of, as the museum put it, “textile works that challenge accepted divisions between fine art and craft.”
But for a remarkable survey of what’s happening in this art form at this very moment, head downtown from MoMA to South Street Seaport, at the bottom of the island, where New York art dealers Karin Bravin and John Lee of BravinLee Programs have mounted “The Golden Thread II,” which brings together 60 artists, including 10 new site-specific installations. The show takes its title from Greek mythology, in which the three Fates, sister goddesses, spin a thread on their wheel that represents every living individual’s destiny, which they assign at the time of their birth; at the end of a person’s life, the Fates cut the thread. 
“The Golden Thread,” with works by Felix Beaudry, Ruby Chishti, and Alissa Alfonso. Courtesy BravinLee Programs.
The venue, 207 Front Street, was erected in 1797 and is one of the oldest structures in the neighborhood. Added in 1972 to the National Register of Historic Places, it has some 10,000 square feet of space and provides a dramatic setting, featuring heavy timber floor framing, brightly sunlit galleries, and dramatic, wide-open spaces in the topmost floor, where you’ll find a 12-foot iron and wood wheel that was once used to hoist grain from ships into storage. At the moment, that device is home to Tura Oliveira’s Wheel of Fortune (2025), in which a giant, bloodred humanoid figure is tangled in the spokes. (The wheel also nicely calls back to the image of the Fates.)
Tura Oliveira, Wheel of Fortune (2025). Courtesy BravinLee Programs.
“Titled after both the tarot card and the game show,” said the artist in a statement, “in this work the grain hoist becomes the breaking wheel of public execution, history turns like a great wheel and catches us in its spokes.” The piece’s price is on request.
It’s the sophomore outing of the show, which had its inaugural run at the same setting last year. That show, which was the building’s debut as a public exhibition space, was open for just several days, coinciding with the Frieze fair. This year, with the blessing of owner Ivan Wolpert of Seaport Associates and Belle Harbour Capital, the show remains on view for a month (including Frieze’s run, when many from the global art world will convene in New York). Prices range from a few hundred dollars for small works by Eileen Braun and Traci Johnson to the range of $70,000 for a large Karen Margolis.
Fabric art is a many-splendored thing, and I’m not an expert, so I called on Elissa Auther, deputy director of curatorial affairs and chief curator at New York’s Museum of Arts and Design—the curator that pretty much every invited artist put on their VIP list, Bravin told me—to tour the show and call out some highlights. Elevated to her current role in 2019, she had joined the museum five years before as as research and collections curator.
Elissa Auther. Photo: Val Bozzi. Courtesy Museum of Arts and Design, New York.
Textile arts span all sorts of techniques and processes, Auther told me, including needlework, embroidery, felting, wet bonding, quilting, and weaving, whether on a loom or off. And these each can lend different meanings, so the more the audience knows, the better they can understand the works. Auther proved an excellent instructor, and no wonder—she also teaches at New York’s Bard Graduate Center.
“I never thought I’d see an exhibition like this in my lifetime,” she said. “Textile art certainly isn’t a recent trend in my world, though it’s definitely gotten more visible, and many more artists are now using the material for the first time.”
Chris Bogia, Village Interior (Maspeth), 2022. Photo: BravinLee Programs. Courtesy Mrs. Gallery.
After sipping on a coffee and chatting with Bravin and Lee, Auther took note of Chris Bogia’s 2022 yarn-on-wood Village Interior (Maspeth), which hangs in the entryway. The boldly colored work shows a table on which stands a candelabra made of human arms, holding shining candles against a rich black background. “He has a tremendous color sense,” Auther said, “and gives attention to the decorative borders. I’m interested in artists who embrace ‘the decorative,’” she said—a term long considered feminized and derogatory in high art. 
“When I made this piece, I was thinking about our collective period of darkness and the sources of light (candles, lanterns, the moon) that we symbolically looked to as a way to illuminate the dark mysteries of our collective predicament during the pandemic,” said the artist in a statement, adding that the framed archway in the piece, where those decorative flourishes appear, echoes those of typical homes in the borough of Queens, where the work was originally shown. The work, priced at $25,000, appears courtesy of Mrs. Gallery, which is in that borough’s Maspeth neighborhood.
Halley Zien, Morning Mourn (2024). Photo: BravinLee Programs.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Auther said in front of Morning Mourn (2024), an ambitious, five-foot-wide Halley Zien piece. “It’s a combination of painting and dimensional stuffed sculpture. That’s what’s exciting about this show. There’s always new discoveries.” The piece shows a domestic interior, with several figures, some lying in bed, seemingly involved in a wild confrontation. Lee later compared it to a scene in the classic 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (where Charlie’s four grandparents are confined to a single bed), filtered through the sensibility of English photographer Richard Billingham. List price: $12,500.
“My work explores the dissonance between idealized exterior appearances and the psychologically charged realities of internal experience,” says Zien in a statement. “Inspired by traditions that use performative masks to dislodge the spirit, exaggerated figures use their distortion to telegraph hidden emotional truths.”
Julia Bland, Sharp Edge of the Sky (2022). Photo: BravinLee Programs. Courtesy Derek Eller.
Looking at Sharp Edge of the Sky (2022) by Julia Bland, Auther enumerated various techniques: weaving, braiding, painted canvas that seems to have been dismantled and sewn back together, and tie dye. With a palette of oranges and browns, the abstract work, standing nearly 10 feet high, is based on several interlocking triangles. Courtesy of New York gallery Derek Eller, it goes for $32,000.
“This piece is a meditation on the ‘face to face’ encounter described in the moral philosophy of Emmanuel Levinas, during which a person’s intimacy and otherness are simultaneously felt,” said the artist’s statement. 
Ruby Chishti, An Intangible Sanctuary of Ocean and stars II (2023). Photo: BravinLee Programs.
An Intangible Sanctuary of Ocean and stars II (2023), an eight-foot-high piece by Ruby Chishti, combines found men’s overcoats with other fabric, as well as thread, wood, metal wire, paint, and other materials into an overcoat for a giant. Auther quipped that it was the opposite of a work by Charles LeDray, the artist known for creating sculptures of miniature clothing. “But she’s created a landscape,” Auther pointed out.
“Magnified by the sheer scale of the structure, it distorts perspective—like a little girl gazing upward at a monumental, unreachable guardian, as abstract and fleeting as God,” said the artist.
Ali Dipp, Concession No 3 (Trumbull, Capitol), 2024. Photo: BravinLee Programs. Courtesy Franklin Parrasch.
Ali Dipp’s Concession No. 3 (Trumbull, Capitol), from 2024, reproduces a familiar scene—artist John Trumbull’s Declaration of Independence (1817–18), showing the Founding Fathers presenting that document’s first draft to the Second Continential Congress. It’s made from hand-stitched thread on denim jeans the artist located in Salvation Army stores in El Paso, Texas, near the Mexican border. In a statement, the artist said that “On the border, I see how America is still in the making—where those who work, aspire, and believe there is more to see, more to build, and more to imagine remember that emancipation comes from the Latin word for hand.” Auther pointed out that it’s “a good example of how materials can relate directly to a place, and to communities.”
Walter Robinson, Tumultuous Heart (2017). Courtesy BravinLee Programs.
Tumultuous Heart (2017), a six-foot-square rug by Walter Robinson based on a “spin” painting of his own making, served as a spot for Auther and Lee to talk technique, about tufting and weaving and knotting and texture—and to reminisce about the widely beloved late artist and critic. Robinson famously made paintings with a spinning technique starting in 1985, years before Damien Hirst made a mint on similar works. New York Times critic Holland Cotter observed that Robinson’s works combined action painting and a hippy aesthetic. BravinLee Programs has been commissioning rugs from artists for years; also on display are examples by Willie Cole, Rashid Johnson, Deborah Kass, Thomas Nozkowski, and Christopher Wool.
Lee and Robinson often talked trash about sports in text messages, the dealer recalled, asking, mournfully, “So when am I going to get a text from him?” 
Terri Friedman, RE-fresh (2022). Photo: BravinLee Programs.
Terri Friedman, standing before her work RE-fresh (2022), in an array of greens and other earthy tones, enthused to Auther, “I’ve always wanted to meet you!” This work, she explained, engages in a more muted palette than past work, and is at a more mural-like scale (it stands eight feet high). The piece draws inspiration from nun and self-taught artist Sister Corita Kent, as well as protest posters and affirmations. She draws the work on an iPad, she said, which is a fairly new development, while asking, “How can I create a painting out of fiber?” The technology has been a game-changer, she said. 
Several works in “Golden Thread” explore social and political hot-button issues. There are Natalie Baxter’s Warm Guns (2016–25), soft versions of assault weapons, and the same artist’s 2016 People Will Think You’re Making a Trump Flag (a yuge one), that reproduces the Stars and Stripes in Trumpian gold. There’s Diana Weymar’s American Sampler (2020–25), from her Tiny Pricks Project, needlepoints that include quotations from political discourse on various subjects. There’s Jennifer Cecere’s WH (2025), showing the White House, always a locus for contested notions of America.
Natalie Baxter, Warm Guns (2016-2025). Photo: BravinLee Programs.
“I just came from teaching a class teaching about protest art,” said Auther, adding that fiber art has long lent itself well to political commentary. The curriculum included artists like Ellen Lesperance, who has made sweater designs from historical photographs of protesters; the Ribbon International, a 1985 anti-nukes protest involving a large decorated cloth that stretched from the Pentagon into Washington, D.C.; the AIDS Memorial Quilt; and the Social Justice Sewing Academy. 
In all, though she has long thought about and investigated the plentiful ways artists have used this medium over many decades, even Auther was amazed at how many artists in the new show were unfamiliar to her.
“The field is expanding beyond the capability of keeping up,” she said. “And that’s a good thing.”
“The Golden Thread II” is on view from BravinLee Programs at 207 Front Street, New York, New York, April 11–May 16, 2025. More