More stories

  • in

    An Exhibition Celebrates the Self-Taught Immigrant Artists Shaping Chicago

    Alfonso “Piloto” Nieves Ruiz, , born Querétaro
    Mexico, 1975, “In the name of progress,” (2017), mixed media, 69 5/8 x 26 x 24 inches. Photo by Photo by Lisa Lindvay
    . All images courtesy of Intuit Art Museum, shared with permission

    An Exhibition Celebrates the Self-Taught Immigrant Artists Shaping Chicago

    May 23, 2025

    ArtSocial Issues

    Grace Ebert

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    Built on the traditional homeland of the Sauk, Fox, and Potawatomi peoples, Chicago is a city of immigrants. Just 13 years after the city was incorporated in 1837, more than half of its residents were born overseas, having flocked to the region from across Europe and Asia alongside tens of thousands of others. Today, Chicago is home to 1.7 million immigrants, totaling 18 percent of the population.

    The inaugural exhibition at the newly renovated Intuit Art Museum celebrates this history by bringing together 22 artists with ties to the city. Comprised of 75 works across mediums, Catalyst: Im/migration and Self-Taught Art in Chicago highlights those who worked in the Midwest and established their practice outside the traditional art world models.

    Carlos Barberena, born Granada, Nicaragua, 1972, “Exodus” (2019), linocut on HW Rives paper, edition of 25, 24 x 19 inches

    Intuit is a longstanding champion of self-taught artists. Established in 1991, the museum has recognized the incredible creative contributions of those operating outside the mainstream due to economic, societal, or geographic reasons.

    One such artist is Henry Darger, who worked as a hospital custodian by day and produced an enormous collection of drawings, watercolor paintings, and cut paper works only discovered after his death. While Darger’s works now sell for prices in the high six figures, his story is unique. Historically, self-taught artists don’t often attain the critical or financial recognition of their traditionally trained peers.

    Catalyst comes at a particularly relevant moment in the U.S., as immigrants are under increasing threat. Spotlighting works with a wide array of topics and approaches, the exhibition creates a sort of contemporary tapestry of those shaping Chicago’s cultural landscape since the mid-20th century. The show intends to highlight “artists deserving of greater attention, while posing questions about access to the art world and how art comes to be defined and valued,” a statement says.

    Included are four impeccably detailed paintings by Drossos P. Skyllas (1912-1973), an Ottoman-born artist known for his enchanting hyperrealistic portraits. Charles Barbarena works with a similar devotion to precise mark-making in his portraiture. The Nicaraguan artist creates linocuts that frame instances of trauma and adversity with elaborate floral motifs, his depictions of people continually harnessing compassion and resistance.

    Drossos P. Skyllas, born Kalymnos, Ottoman Empire (now Greece), 1912-1976, “Greek Bishop” (c. 1967), oil on canvas, 65 x 41 1/2 inches

    Found object and mixed-media sculpture features prominently, too. The soaring miniature cathedral by Charles Warner, for example, interprets the sacred spaces of his childhood in Prussia through hand-carved wood and pastel paint. There’s also the figurative assemblage of Alfonso “Piloto” Nieves Ruiz, who sculpts a rendition of the Statue of Liberty. With a torso of unidentifiable hands caked in soil and detritus at her feet, Piloto’s “In the name of progress” complicates the symbol of freedom.

    Catalyst is on view through January 11, 2026.

    Charles Warner, born Prussia (now Poland), 1884-1964, “Cathedral III” (c. 1955) mixed media, 48 1/16 x 16 1/8 x 20 7/8 inches. Photo by Mark Widhalm

    Charles Warner, born Prussia (now Poland), 1884-1964, “Cathedral III” (c. 1955) mixed media, 48 1/16 x 16 1/8 x 20 7/8 inches. Photo by Mark Widhalm

    Photo by Lisa and Nick Albertson

    María Enríquez de Allen, American, born Allende, Mexico, 1907-1999, “Untitled (New life goat skull)” (1997), mixed media, 8 ¾ x 7 x 10 ½ inches. Photo by Lisa Lindvay

    Marion Perkins, American, born Marche, Arkansas, 1908-1961, “Untitled (Wire head)” (c. 1955), steel wire, 19 x 12 x 13 inches. Photo by Lisa Lindvay

    Bronislaw “Bruno” Sowa, American, born Lubomierz (Poland), 1915-1995, “Untitled” (1994), oil on board in carved pyrography frame with glass jewels, 33 x 24 x 1 1/4 inches. Photo by Lisa Lindvay

    Photo by Lisa and Nick Albertson

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Next article More

  • in

    ‘Wonder Women’ Celebrates the Dazzling Figurative Work of Asian Diasporic Artists

    Dominique Fung, “Bone Holding Fan” (2021). All images courtesy of the artists and Rizzoli, shared with permission

    ‘Wonder Women’ Celebrates the Dazzling Figurative Work of Asian Diasporic Artists

    May 15, 2025

    ArtBooksSocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    In February 2020, curator and gallery director Kathy Huang met artist Dominique Fung—a month before the COVID-19 pandemic shut everything down. Their conversations, which continued throughout quarantine, served as an impetus for what would become Huang’s Wonder Women exhibitions at Jeffrey Deitch.

    During their chats, Huang and Fung lamented “the uptick in violence against Asian American communities, particularly against women and the elderly,” Huang says in the introduction to her forthcoming book, Wonder Women: Art of the Asian Diaspora.

    Mai Ta, “mirror image” (2022)

    The two also found it difficult to pinpoint when the last major exhibition had been staged that thoughtfully presented Asian artists, and neither could think of an instance where women and nonbinary artists had been the focus. Both of Huang’s exhibitions and her new book are the fruit of that desire to highlight the remarkable spectrum of figurative work being produced within the Asian diasporic community today.

    A response to racism against Asians exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic, Huang conceived of the shows that went on view in 2022 in New York and Los Angeles as a means to highlight the incredible, groundbreaking work made especially by women and nonbinary artists.

    Forthcoming from Rizzoli, Wonder Women shares a similar title to a poem by Genny Lim, which follows experiences of Asian women through the lens of a narrator who observes their everyday routines and considers how their lives relate to hers.

    Huang expands on this view in her approach to showcasing the work of forty artists, each represented through at least four pieces and a personal statement. These artists “subvert stereotypes and assert their identities in places where they have historically been marginalized,” Rizzoli says.

    Sally J. Han, “At Lupe’s” (2022)

    Artists like Sasha Gordon or Nadia Waheed explore identity through sometimes fantastical self-portraiture, while others highlight family, community, and colonial or patriarchal systems in the West. Some address Asian myths, legends, and visual culture, like Fung’s exploration of antique objects or Shyama Golden’s otherworldly scenes in which hybrid human-animals interact with nature or urban spaces.

    Wonder Women will be released on May 20. Order your copy from the Colossal Shop.

    Shyama Golden, “The Passage” (2022)

    Chelsea Ryoko Wong, “It’s Mah Jong Time!” (2022)

    Nadia Waheed, “Bolides/ 852” (2022)

    Cover featuring a painting by Sasha Gordon

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Next article More

  • in

    Five Years in the Making, an MiG-21 Fighter Jet Gets a Glow-Up from Tens of Millions of Glass Beads

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos. All images courtesy of Ralph Ziman, shared with permission

    Five Years in the Making, an MiG-21 Fighter Jet Gets a Glow-Up from Tens of Millions of Glass Beads

    April 15, 2025

    ArtHistorySocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    “We’re going to make stuff out of beads that is going to take people’s breath away,” says Ralph Ziman in the trailer for “The MiG-21 Project,” a military jet that he and a transcontinental team coated nose to tail in millions upon millions of glass beads.

    For the past 12 years, the Los Angeles-based artist has examined the impacts of the Cold War Era and the global arms trade through a trilogy titled Weapons of Mass Production, motivated by his upbringing in Apartheid-era South Africa. More than half a decade in the making, “The MiG-21 Project” completes the series.

    The first installment, “The AK-47 Project,” reimagined the aesthetic of one of the world’s most ubiquitous wartime weapons, the Avtomat Kalashnikova 1947, by coating dozens of the guns in colorful glass beads. The second project revolved around the Casspir, a heavy-duty Mine-Resistant Ambush Protected Vehicle (MRAPV) introduced in the 1970s, which he likewise ornamented in vibrant geometric patterns.

    “The idea was to take these weapons of war and to repurpose them,” Ziman says, flipping the narrative about icons of violence and transforming them instead into symbols of resilience, collaboration, and collectivity. Vehicles and firearms morph into a theater of hope and strength in the face of a terrible 20th-century legacy.

    Apartheid, which in Afrikaans means “separateness,” is the name assigned by the minority white-ruled Nationalist Party of South Africa to a harsh system of racial segregation that began in 1948. The period lasted until 1991 and was closely linked within the context of international relations to the Cold War as tensions erupted between the U.S. and the former U.S.S.R. Spurred by the deterioration of the two countries’ WWII alliance and fears about the spread of Communism into the West, the war began in 1947 and also ended in 1991 when the U.S.S.R. was dissolved.

    During this time, the Russians produced a fighter jet called the Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-21. The plane is “the most-produced supersonic fighter aircraft of all time,” Ziman says. “The Russians built 12,500 MiG-21s, and they’re still in use today—just like the Casspir and just like the AK-47s. But it’s one thing to say, hey, I want to bead a MiG, and then the next thing, you’ve got a 48-foot MiG sitting in your studio.”

    The MiG-21 cockpit

    “The MiG-21 Project” combines photography and costume design with historical research and time-honored Indigenous craft. The project encompasses not only the jet but a series of cinematic photographs and elaborate Afrofuturist regalia inspired by military flight suits, African tribal textiles, and space travel.

    Ziman’s team comprises numerous skilled artisans from Zimbabwe and Indigenous Ndebele women from South Africa’s Mpumalanga Province, who are renowned for their beadwork. For the Ndebele, beadwork is a means of expressing cultural identity and rites of passage, taking on powerful political connotations in the 20th century as it became associated with pre-colonial African traditions and identity.

    Tapping into the lessons of our not-so-distant past, Ziman addresses current conflicts like war and the global arms race, modern colonialism, systemic racism, and white supremacy through the lens of Apartheid. Funds raised throughout the process, part of the mission of the Weapons of Mass Production trilogy as a whole, are being donated to the people of Ukraine in support of the country’s ongoing conflict with Russia.

    You’ll be able to see the “The MiG-21 Project” later this year in Seattle, where it will be on view from June 21 to January 26, 2026, at the Museum of Flight. Explore more on Ziman’s website.

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos

    “Hero Of Cuito Cuanavale,” Inkjet on Moab Entrada paper, 43 x 56 inches

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos

    Detail of the MiG-21 cockpit

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos

    “The Raider and Her MiG-21,” Inkjet on Moab Entrada paper, 43 x 56 inches

    Photo by Mauricio Hoyos

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Next article More

  • in

    vanessa german Channels Metaphysical Healing Powers in a Series of Monumental Assemblages

    “the siddhi of the soul” (2025), rose quartz, wood, plaster, plaster gauze, the shine of the full moon on my mother’s face while saving my sister’s life, pyrite, joy, the ecstasy of creativity, marble tile, astroturf, for how it is to know that you are but a splinter of the whole and also entirely whole the same time, a revelation of lapis, citrine, the way that clouds are creative, a loosing against old ways of power, a healing
    song sung just of breath and now-ness, amethyst, 3 quilts and the love of jill and Dev, the hands
    of dev, the hands of jordan, the hands of our collective soul, strawberry quartz, fish key chains, a mammy creamer in the eye, hematite, butterflies made by the artist, a muse against cruelty,
    for how it is to be alive inside of this holy soul, magic., 65 x 36 1/2 x 36 1/2 inches. All images © vanessa german, courtesy of the artist and Kasmin, New York, shared with permission

    vanessa german Channels Metaphysical Healing Powers in a Series of Monumental Assemblages

    April 8, 2025

    ArtSocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    Meaning “perfection” or “attainment,” the Sanskrit word siddhi describes a kind of powerful spiritual energy attained through meditation and mindfulness. To be a siddha is to be accomplished—to achieve a level of optimum spiritual wellbeing. For vanessa german (previously), making sculpture is a spiritual practice with the power to confront systemic social issues and conjure a sense of community.

    In GUMBALL—there is absolutely no space between body and soul, german’s solo exhibition at Kasmin, “the siddhi of the soul,” for example, lists rose quartz, wood, plaster, and marble tile along with “…the way that clouds are creative, a loosing against old ways of power, a healing song sung just of breath and now-ness…”

    “the emergence, or, on considering the transformative nature of the dragon fly as told by Richard Rudd.” (2025), we dance here don’t we bend out our bones and loose our spirts free in an agreement of birth and suffering, wood, plaster, plaster gauze, lapis, sodalite, blue kyanite, quartz, rose quartz, dyed howlite, turquoise, bottles, blue things at the bottom of the sea, languishing, morganite, blue amber eye bee—for seeing the unseen inside of your own self, the deep grief of it all , the light from the wound, blue pigments, a white snake for transformation, a solid fearlessness, grace, onyx, obsidian, rhinestones, cut glass, a host of possibilities, magic and loving that keeps making itself new, over and over again., 64 x 40 x 38 inches

    german’s monumental new series of sculptural heads are conceived as “cosmic maps, proposing a cartography for a sacred place that embraces the full creative potential of all people,” says an exhibition statement. Drawing inspiration from ancient Mesoamerican Olmec heads, which were carved from basalt and measure, in some cases, more than 11 feet tall, the artist channels heft and gravitas.

    The descriptions of her pieces are a far cry from standardized lists of raw materials; combining lyrical and autobiographical references, the accompanying texts complement each work’s inspiration, process, and inherent energy.

    Beads, glass, ceramics, wood, recycling, astroturf, found objects, and more are complemented by myriad emotions and memories like “joy,” “languishing,” and “the way that black girls—in my youth—could speak their own language by chewing and popping gum.” She incorporates minerals and stones like quartz, onyx, and obsidian, transmitting their metaphysical healing properties.

    The exhibition is organized into two complementary presentations, including the mixed-media heads and a series of fallen figures. The latter strike poses that reflect vogue dancers’ “death drops” in ballroom competitions, in which they fall to the floor as if mimicking death, then use one leg to bounce back up.

    Title TBD (2025), 36 x 24 x 14 inches

    The fallen figures’ heads are replaced with porcelain racist caricatures, “reclaiming power from their white counterparts,” says a statement. Mirroring the voguing technique, each dancer emphatically rebounds from not only the illusion of death but from bigotry, systematic oppression, and violence toward the LGBTQ+ community and those who interrogate social norms.

    GUMBALL—there is absolutely no space between body and soul continues through May 10 across two of Kasmin’s Chelsea locations in New York City. Explore more on german’s Instagram.

    Detail of “the emergence, or, on considering the transformative nature of the dragon fly as told by
    Richard Rudd.”

    “lover, lover, lover boi” (2025), arm trans women, existence cannot be non-existence, get over it, love, love, love, wood, plaster, plaster gauze, bottle cap chain, forgiveness, clear quartz, cut glass, titanium dyed geodes, onyx, obsidian, shungite, Smokey quartz, beaded glass trim, the grief always, the opposite of self loathing, a Native American beaded hat from a trading post near what we now call, “the Grand Canyon.” Heat, starlight, the dance of all ages, kissing and fucking for the peace and joy of it all, anatomical heart model, mammy note pad body with original pencil, cut glass ring holder, quartz points from the land we now call, “Arkansas”, cowboy salt shaker, a snake for the bite and shrugging off of the passage of time., 77 x 31 x 34 inches

    “you own soul is a true magic” (2025), wood, marble tile, love, red glass beads, rose quartz, onyx, obsidian, shungite, Smokey quartz, lapis, agate, candelabras, joy, a found wooden foot, ceramic birds, pyrite, sodalite, emerald with quartz, black beaded text, sitting down in the soul for a made-up song, mirror, amethyst, beaded key chains from guatamala, astroturf, agate, morganite, creativity as antidote, silence, dancing, forgiveness., 70 x 43 x 36 1/4 inches

    Detail of “you own soul is a true magic”

    Title TBD (2025), 26 x 16 x 11 inches

    “GUMBALL, or, Gloriously Underestimated Magical Bounty As Living Love. Or, An Invitation to Contemplation at the pace of One’s own Divine Soul.” (2025), gemstones and minerals: tigers eye, onyx, obsidian, rose quartz, morganite, lapis, aragonite, citrine, agate, dyed jade, titanium heated geode, spirit quartz. Cut glass crystal, fish key chains, a love song to the Soul of it all, a house in which to grow wise in a manner with allows no violation to the being, wood, hand blown glass gumball, ceramic figurine, pink prayer beads, prayers of grace and the intimacy of loneliness giving into the knowing of deep and true wholeness, light, astroturf, joyous angelic presence, the levity of the Buddha—HA HA. Love, memories of my grandmother, plaster, plaster guaze, cardboard, obsidian lucky foot, 3-4 bags of my/the artist’s recycling, a laying on of hands and a release into the grace of being held outside of one’s own mind, joy, ceramic butterflies, the way that black girls—in my youth—could speak their own language by chewing and popping gum, beaded flowers, hope, newness, porcelain tile, slow down, it’s going to be ok., 87 x 47 1/2 x 43 1/2 inches

    Detail of “GUMBALL, or, Gloriously Underestimated Magical Bounty As Living Love. Or, An Invitation to Contemplation at the pace of One’s own Divine Soul.”

    Title TBD (2025), 36 x 22 x 14 inches

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Previous articleNext article More

  • in

    ‘The Praise House’ Shares the Story of a Contemplative Installation on an Alabama Plantation

    All images courtesy of 1504, shared with permisison

    ‘The Praise House’ Shares the Story of a Contemplative Installation on an Alabama Plantation

    March 6, 2025

    ArtFilmHistorySocial Issues

    Grace Ebert

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    On the site of the former Scott’s Grove Baptist Church, artist Tony M. Bingham has constructed a monumental work of contemplation and reflection. Two wood-paneled walls stand parallel in the serene clearing with stained glass windows, a Sylacauga marble floor, and a steel cutout depicting members who once worshiped on its grounds.

    A tribute to local history, Bingham’s work is titled “The Praise House,” which takes its name from the vernacular structures people who were enslaved often built on plantations throughout the Southern U.S. as a space for prayer. “My way of addressing the power and the legacy is to just begin to look at some of the possible sources of opposition that the enslaved community could have participated in,” the artist says.

    A new short documentary follows Bingham as he visits The Wallace Center for Arts and Reconciliation and installs the work. Located just outside of Birmingham in Harpersville, Alabama, the former plantation house is now a space for healing and reconciliation run by descendants of both the enslaved and enslavers.

    Today, the center hosts a variety of art and culture programming to reflect on its history, and “The Praise House” is one such commission. After learning more about the enslaved communities, Bingham wanted to create a work that honored their legacy. “Using organic, repurposed, and cast-off materials, I make art that tells the story of my cast-off people,” he says, adding:

    The house was being historically renovated, and planks of lumber were being replaced. I imagined that these old boards were the very surfaces enslaved people walked on or touched, and I sought to bring those materials back together in a way that could inspire reflection on the history of the enslaved people who once lived there.

    Directed by Tyler Jones of 1504, the film is a poignant, enlightening glimpse into the lengthy process behind “The Praise House.” Bingham, who is a professor at Miles College in Birmingham, frequently invokes the historical realities of the location and returns to fundamental questions about the purpose of his work and art more broadly. “Who will speak for my people if not the artist?” he asks. “Who will help those outside of the art dialog to understand the creative potential they possess?”

    Watch “The Praise House” above, and find more from the artist on Instagram.

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Next article More

  • in

    A New Documentary Traces How a Faith Ringgold Mural at Rikers Island Helped Women Break Free

    Detail of “For the Women’s House” (1972). All images from ‘Paint Me a Road Out of Here’

    A New Documentary Traces How a Faith Ringgold Mural at Rikers Island Helped Women Break Free

    February 13, 2025

    ArtFilmHistorySocial Issues

    Grace Ebert

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    In 1971, Faith Ringgold (1930-2024) received her first public art commission. New York City offered the late artist a $3,000 grant to paint a mural at the Women’s House of Detention on Rikers Island. After going inside and speaking with those incarcerated in the notorious prison, Ringgold decided to base the work around a request from one of the women about what she hoped the piece would depict: “I want to see a road leading out of here.”

    In Ringgold’s characteristically bold palette, the resulting mural features more than a dozen figures, many of whom are employed in professions unavailable to women at the time. Vibrant and sliced into eight sections, “For the Women’s House” portrays doctors, bus drivers, basketball players, and the yet-to-be-realized vision of a woman as president. The large-scale work was a tribute to the deferred dreams of those who were locked up and a directive to reimagine the stereotypes put on incarcerated people.

    According to ArtNet, the artist continued her relationship with the detained women and returned to the facility each month to provide “courses in subjects ranging from mask-making and theater to career counseling and drug addiction prevention.”

    When Rikers Island transitioned to housing men in 1998, though, the Department of Corrections painted over the work, concealing it under a thick layer of white paint.

    A new documentary directed by Catherine Gund chronicles Ringgold’s fight to regain control over the mural as it tells a broader story about the injustices of the U.S. justice system. Paint Me a Road Out of Here, released by Aubin Pictures, features conversations with Ringgold before her death last year, along with artist Mary Enoch Elizabeth Baxter, who has been commissioned to create a new work to replace “For the Women’s House.”

    The film comes at a time when more artists who were formerly incarcerated are gaining attention as they point out the dehumanization and cruelty at the heart of the prison system. Jesse Krimes, for example, interrogates the material conditions of life inside as he incorporates soap bars, playing cards, newspapers, and bedsheets into his practice. And at a similarly infamous facility, artist Moath al-Alwi sculpts ships from cardboard, dental floss, and threads from his prayer cap while detained at Guantánamo Bay.

    “For the Women’s House” (1972)

    While the film shares the story of Ringgold’s nearly lost mural—which was relocated in 2022—it also speaks to the power of community and connection through art and making, particularly in places where despair and degradation are rampant. “Art gives us permission to imagine a world beyond what currently exists,” one interviewee in the film says.

    Paint Me a Road Out of Here is currently screening at the Film Forum in New York. Keep an eye on Aubin Pictures’ website and Instagram for additional locations.

    The artist with the mural

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Previous articleNext article More

  • in

    Timo Fahler’s Stained-Glass Sculptures Question Symbols and Curtailed Freedoms

    “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door” (2023), chain-link fence, steel, stained glass, lead, and aluminum, 48 x 38 x 6 inches. All images courtesy of the artist and Sebastian Gladstone Gallery, shared with permission

    Timo Fahler’s Stained-Glass Sculptures Question Symbols and Curtailed Freedoms

    February 5, 2025

    ArtSocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    The creation of stained glass can be traced back to ancient Egypt and Rome, but we most often associate it with its popularity in Western Christianity, as in the biblical narratives adorning chapels and cathedrals. For Timo Fahler, this tradition forms the foundation of a multimedia practice influenced by Mesoamerican codice imagery, national symbols, and motifs found in older European churches.

    Stained glass is a “storytelling medium in which I get to draw from everything I experience, everything I study, read, believe in, and even distrust,” Fahler tells Colossal. “We are floating in a unique era of questioning reality, the last gasp of the living generation before automation integrates itself via AI, ChatGPT, and digital interface.” He views his practice as depicting this era and even, in a way, immortalizing it.

    “topos haliaíetos for the bald eagle; topos chrysaetos for the gold eagle/Mexico” (2023), steel, cast iron, stained glass, lead, tin, and obsidian, 27 x 41 x 2 inches

    Fahler first worked with lampworking glass while studying ceramics at the Kansas City Art Institute, which sparked an ongoing interest in the medium. Recently, he began incorporating it into what he calls “rebar drawings,” which form the foundation of much of his work. “I was curious about letting the unpredictability of light become a part of the ‘materials’ I work with,” the artist says.

    Many of Fahler’s sculptures are framed or supported by heavy-duty metals like rusted steel, iron fences, and gates. Stained glass hovers a few inches from the wall, casting colorful shadows. For his most recent works, Fahler places barriers atop the glass to consider not only the viewer’s relationship to the image but also the implications of people being barred from freedoms and knowledge. “I draw from a lot of different sources—historical, mythological, and fantastical—all of which encompass my ‘heritage,’” the artist says.

    In a piece titled after the poem “New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus, which is carved in bronze on the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal, Fahler uses a gate to frame a detail of Lady Liberty’s arm constructed of tiny glass squares soldered to the facets of a chain-link fence. Historically a potent symbol of welcome, amnesty, and inclusiveness, the statue in this context references how today, new immigrants’ access is more troubled and often blocked.

    Serpents, dragons, eagles, and landscapes merge with realistic portraits and references to historical moments and national emblems, like Mexico’s crest featuring a golden eagle on a cactus with a snake in its talons. The image centers on the nation’s flag, representing the resilience, bravery, and spirit of the Mexican people. Echoing his representation of the Statue of Liberty, the icon is barricaded, merging with iron bars.

    “I against i” (2024), found fence, steel, stained glass, grisaille, glass, and lead, 53.5 x 53 x 7 inches. Photo by Nick Massey

    Fahler is currently working on a solo presentation with Sebastian Gladstone this autumn. He and his family just moved to Amsterdam, where he shares he’s beginning from a “zero-point/clean canvas” in a new studio, and he plans to explore ideas around the complexities of sovereignty, expatriation, and a quickly evolving global society.

    “The world is changing so quickly that we cannot collectively understand, let alone keep up with it!” he says. “I’m excited to be working on all of that and look forward to the body of work that depicts it.”

    Find more on Fahler’s website and Instagram.

    “two-headed serpent” (2023), mirror steel, cast iron, stained glass, copper, and lead, 30 x 45 x 4 inches

    “fever dream” (2024), found gate, steal, stained glass, grisaille, and lead, 32 x 84 x 6 inches. Photo by Nick Massey

    “twin serpents” (2024), steel, stained glass, lead, and rebar, 70 x 64 x 64 inches. Photo by Nick Massey

    “Space Shuttle Challenger (OV-099)” (2023), fence, steel, stained glass, and lead, 64 x 59.5 x 3.5 inches

    “copper zen mountain” (2023), rebar steel, stained glass, lead, and copper, 30 x 40 x 6 inches

    “code switching” (2024), found chain-link fence, steel, stained glass, and lead, 64 x 48 x 8 inches

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Previous articleNext article More

  • in

    From Remedios Varo to Laurie Simmons, a New Exhibition Forwards a Feminist View of the Uncanny

    Remedios Varo, “Tejido espacio-tiempo (Weaving of Space and Time)” (1954), oil on Masonite, 32 1/2 x 28 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Artwork © 2023 Remedios Varo/Artists Rights Society, New York/VEGAP, Madrid. All images courtesy of the National Museum of Women in the Arts, shared with permission

    From Remedios Varo to Laurie Simmons, a New Exhibition Forwards a Feminist View of the Uncanny

    February 4, 2025

    ArtHistoryPhotographySocial Issues

    Kate Mothes

    Share

    Pin

    Email

    Bookmark

    In a 1906 essay, psychiatrist Ernst Jentsch coined the term “uncanny,” or unheimlich, meaning “unhomely” or “not home-like” in German. He defined the psychological phenomenon as the experience of something new or unknown that might initially be interpreted negatively.

    Austrian neurologist and founder of psychoanalysis Sigmund Freud popularized the word with the publication of his book The Uncanny in 1919, which elaborated on the idea as not just the sensation of the unknown but also something capable of bringing out other hidden or repressed elements. He even went so far as to describe the uncanny as frightening.

    Mary Ellen Mark, “Tashara and Tanesha Reese, Twins Days Festival, Twinsburg, Ohio” (1998; printed later), gelatin silver print, 20 x 24 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Image © Mary Ellen Mark/The Mary Ellen Mark Foundation

    During the 20th century, the Surrealists often turned to the concept to build a sense of mystery or tension in their works. Meret Oppenheim, for instance, famously created a teacup lined with fur, simply titled “Object” (1936), widely regarded as an iconic example of the movement.

    Oppenheim is one of more than two dozen artists whose work will appear in the National Museum of Women in the Arts’ forthcoming exhibition, Uncanny, featuring recent acquisitions and rarely shown pieces in NMWA’s collection, plus special loans.

    More than 60 works by renowned figures of modern art history like Louise Bourgeois, Remedios Varo, and Leonora Carrington will be shown alongside the likes of contemporary artists like Shahzia Sikander, Laurie Simmons, and Gillian Wearing. The large-scale presentation is the first to approach the concept through a feminist lens, organizing works around themes of safety and surreal imaginings.

    The show also plumbs the phenomenon of the “uncanny valley,” a term coined by robotics engineer Masahiro Mori in 1970 to describe the apprehension or discomfort one feels when confronted with something that is almost human but not quite, like video game characters that appear realistic yet still somehow seem “off.”

    Laurie Simmons, “The Music of Regret IV” (1994), Cibachrome print, 19 1/2 x 19 1/2 inches. © 2019 Laurie Simmons

    In Laurie Simmons’ “The Music of Regret IV” (1994), a female ventriloquist dummy sits in the center of a circle of six male dummy dolls, whose gazes are trained on her as she looked out into the distance. Tapping into a medium that has been used in the horror genre to instill a sense of creepiness or dread, Simmons’ central character is dramatically spotlit, her smile belying the reality that she is unsettlingly hemmed in.

    Along the theme of safety, or specifically unsafe spaces, Fabiola Jean-Louis’s elaborately staged photographs tell two stories at once. The artist portrays “seemingly innocuous portraits of close acquaintances wearing elaborate period costumes typical of upper-class European women, while disturbing images of racial and sexual violence are hidden within the background or details of a dress, reminding the viewer of the lineage of violence,” says an exhibition statement.

    Many works in the show address physical trauma or the body’s relationship to the unknown. Frida Orupabo’s photographic collages, for example, portray Black figures that evoke colonial histories, critiquing historical violence and injustices through a process of fragmenting, distorting, and multiplying body parts.

    Orupabo’s compositions echo the surrealist collaborative practice of cadavre exquis, or exquisite corpse, in which participants add to elements others have drawn without being able to see their work, producing intuitive and peculiar drawings.

    Frida Orupabo, “Two Heads (detail)” (2022), framed collage with paper pins, 58 1/4 x 41 1/2 inches. © Frida Orupabo, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Nordenhake Berlin/Stockholm/Mexico City

    “The enigmatic, darkly humorous and psychologically tense artworks in Uncanny give form to women artists’ powerful expressions of existential unease,” said NMWA Associate Curator Orin Zahra, who organized the exhibition. She continues:

    Rather than comfort and soothe, these ghostly and fantastical figures haunt the unconscious. Instead of picturesque images, artists offer disquieting spaces that unsettle the viewer. In focusing on the ambiguity between reality and fiction, artists explore increasingly blurred lines between the artificial and eerily human.

    Uncanny opens February 28 and continues through August 10 in Washington, D.C., highlighting painting, sculpture, photography, works on paper, and video made between 1954 and 2022. Learn more and plan your visit on the museum’s website.

    Fabiola Jean-Louis, “They’ll Say We Enjoyed It” from the series ‘Rewriting History’ (2017), archival pigment print, 33 x 26 inches. © Fabiola Jean-Louis, courtesy of the artist and Galerie Myrtis

    Gillian Wearing, “Sleeping Mask (for Parkett, no. 70)” (2004), wax reinforced with polymer resin, paint, 8 1/4 x 5 5/8 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Artwork © Gillian Wearing/Artists Rights Society, New York/DACS, London

    Julie Roberts, “Sigmund Freud Study” (1998), oil on acrylic ground on cotton duck, 84 x 72 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Artwork © Julie Roberts/DACS, London

    Gillian Wearing, “Me as Mona Lisa” (2020), chromogenic print, 24 1/4 x 19 1/8 inches. © Gillian Wearing, courtesy of the artist, Maureen Paley, London, and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York/Los Angeles

    Leonora Carrington, “The Ship of Cranes” (2010), bronze, 26 x 14 x 42 1/2 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Artwork © Leonora Carrington/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

    Remedios Varo, “Fenómeno de ingravidez (Phenomenon of Weightlessness)” (1963), oil on canvas, 29 1/2 x 19 5/8 inches. © 2023 Remedios Varo/Artists Rights Society, New York/VEGAP, Madrid

    Polly Morgan, “Receiver” (2009), taxidermy quail chicks and Bakelite telephone handset, 9 x 2 1/2 x 3 1/2 inches. Photo by Lee Stalsworth. Artwork © Polly Morgan

    Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member now, and support independent arts publishing.

    Hide advertising

    Save your favorite articles

    Get 15% off in the Colossal Shop

    Receive members-only newsletter

    Give 1% for art supplies in K-12 classrooms

    Join us today!

    $7/month

    $75/year

    Explore membership options

    Next article More