Beatriz Cortez x rafa esparza: Earth and Cosmos at the Americas Society

 Exhibition Review: Beatriz Cortez x rafa esparza: Earth and Cosmos at the Americas Society

Earth and Cosmos at the Americas Society brings together the works of Beatriz Cortez and rafa esparza, exploring themes of migration, memory, and the movement of ancient knowledge across ”space” and “time”. The exhibition merges ancient traditions with contemporary artistic practices, focusing on the flow of cultural artifacts and their impact on modern identities.

One of the key pieces, esparza’s Hyperspace: -100km + ∞ (2025), is a sculpture made from basalt and adobe, referencing the Olmec colossal heads and the journey of magma from the Earth’s crust to the surface with the usage of basalt. The combination of raw materials and esparza’s familial connection to adobe-making infuses the piece with a deep connection to his ancestral land.

Cortez’s Cabeza de Jaguar (Monumento #47) (2022) and Gift of the Artist to the Ancient Object Labeled as Human Head Emerging from Monster Jaws (2023) stand in contrast, their sharp steel forms reflecting the violence of displacement and the ongoing journey of looted ancient objects. These works confront the movement of history and the legacies of colonization.

While the exhibition succeeds in its materiality, grounding abstract themes in tangible forms, it occasionally falls short in offering new insights into these conversations about displacement and cultural preservation. While the works are visually interesting, the thematic focus on migration and cultural memory is somewhat predictable, like the 3-D printed artifacts, with few surprises in how these ideas are presented. Nevertheless, the show’s strength lies in the connection between the ancient and the contemporary, offering a tactile experience to its viewers as they drag the dirt across the gallery's floor. 

Danka Latorre, Current Season 472-02

Danka Latorre, Current Season 472-02

(Revised) Tavares Strachan’s Starless Midnight

 

Marian Goodman Gallery offered mystery and transcendence through Starless Midnight by Tavares Strachan. The exhibition began with Encyclopedia of Invisibility on a pedestal and a half-piano emerging from the wall, playing a self-generated melody that reverberated throughout the space, as if sending subtle messages through the structure itself.

Across the room, the other half of the piano stood surrounded by dry grass, yellowed dirt, and bright lights—evoking solitude and contrast. Strachan’s work explores themes of cultural displacement, aspiration, and limitation through scientific and cosmic frameworks like astronomy, climatology, and deep-sea exploration. His installations create monumental allegories of identity and understanding, merging art with science and myth.

Born in 1979 in Nassau, Bahamas, and now based between Nassau and New York, Strachan combines complex materials to build atmospheric, immersive environments. One highlight was a room shrouded in dusk-like darkness, reached through a rounded arch. It glowed with three giant star-like structures—or perhaps boards of thousands of pulsing digits—casting pearlescent light. From a distance, the effect was misty and dreamlike, blurring the boundary between celestial and digital.

While I was less taken with the neon lights, which clashed with the precision of his engineered instruments, their dissonance may have been intentional—highlighting contrasts between the organic and synthetic. A self-playing marimba nearby emitted delicate, rain-like notes, blending nature with machine. The result was a dense yet ethereal experience, bridging the digital and the natural in a space that felt both otherworldly and deeply human.

edited: Marcel Alcala's Devotions at Lyles and King

 Devotions was a group exhibition at Lyles and King featuring work of trans femme artist Marcel Alcalá, Ren Light Pan, Paola Angelini, and Brian Oakes. Her paintings stand out among the other artists showing at the gallery thanks to their vibrancy, impasto technique, and confrontational nature. They are a breath of fresh air and an exciting inclusion in the show. Alongside Alcalá's works were Ren Light Pan’s multimedia prints and experimental 2D works, sculptural low-hanging lamps by Brian Oakes, and other paintings from Angelini. While the exhibition itself was eclectic, it seemed to work in Alcalá's favor. The techno-inspired lamps pulled the warmth from Alcalá’s paintings into the center of the room. The ghastly well dressed femmes of Alcalá's works are painted simply, not restricting themselves to realism or anatomy. Instead, her work is very gestural, with some areas even wandering into impressionistic territory. The harsh lines on the figure in her painting Looking Back contrast with the ambiguity of the floral tapestry and shadowy back turned to the viewer is appealing. Alcalá's style is welcoming and cozy, which is complimented by the size of her canvases. Her small and intimate paintings fit nicely with the low ceilings the gallery, and with the subject matter of Pan's works. Pan's print style paintings feature sultry girls in a monochrome palette, girls that are much more realized than the figures in Alcalá's paintings. But they are brought together by the same sense of emotion. The other paintings in the show, by Angelini were outshined by the brightness and characterization of Alcalá’s work. Angelini had very intricate large scale works next to Alcalá. They used similar color palettes, but the complexity and detail in Angelini’s work felt a little lost. Her paintings, welcoming at least 48 inches wide, were full of imagery and imitated the clutter of altars and the close details of textile works. While they could hold their own in a different context, the works are at a disadvantage in this show.

Camille Henrot, A Numer of Things: Collision Between Nature and Order

"A Number of Things" located on 22nd Street in New York, Camille Henrot presents an exploration of order and structure. The exhibition is a journey of Caimille Hernot's personal growth, guiding us through her understanding of civilization, obedience, and societal pressure.

The dog sculptures in the door way immediately caught my attention. Beside on how entertaining they look, Caimille has put a seed in our mind to suggest the order and obedience within our civilization.

The two Sculptures, 1263 / 3612 (Abacus) and 73 / 37 (Abacus) are in a shape of an undefinable creature, the motion reminds me of the dog sculptures. My childhood memory flooded into my mind when I saw these sculptures. In my early years, the abacus was not a playful educational instrument but a structured tool of learning, often associated with tests and competitions. However, the abacus eventually are removed from the education system due to the rapid modernization in China, and by the time I finish primary school, it completely disappeared, and younger generations were no longer required to learn it.

This sculpture is full of surprise, it truly brought me a unexpected experience, and recalling old memories. It got me wondering, even though I hate politics, it is inevitable to see its effect on people mind in a society.

- Logan Ping

Authority Problem At Satchel Projects: An Opposition.

Authority Problem is a group show curated by Satchel Projects Gallery, hidden at 526 W 26th Street, #913, NYC. Featuring artists Kris Chatterson, James Esber, Jane Fine, David Humphrey, Clare Kambhu, Karimadeebora McMillan, Mira Schor, and Peter Williams, the exhibition rejects Henri Matisse’s notion of “pure” and “relaxing” art from Notes of a Painter. Instead, the work stands against institutional authority, abuses of power, and the role of protest in today’s global shift toward authoritarianism.

Upon stepping into this white-walled, institutional, and conventional gallery space, the spit of saturated colors from the various acrylic or oil paintings and prints places viewers in a space where political urgency collides with formal aesthetics, making it impossible to passively observe. Near the entrance, Jane Fine’s American History X stands out with neon graffiti marks and charged symbols referencing artists like Trenton Doyle Hancock and Philip Guston. Across the room, Mira Schor’s This is Not Political ironically becomes deeply political, simply because there are no right answers. 

 Thus, overtly and subvertly, I see themes of power, protest, reclaiming, and resisting. Yet, this intensity does not match the conventional space it resides in, almost muting the voices leaping from the canvases. Or perhaps the intimacy and confinement feel less like an exhibition and more like being caught in the middle of a heated debate.