Why Keep the Figure? Anna-Maria Škroba at YveYANG

by Kun Sok

I kept returning to the turquoise table in Anna-Maria Škroba’s Nazar. A seated figure occupies the center, but the table holds my attention. Its saturated color and sharply angled edge give it a force the sitter never acquires. The face has been reduced to a gray oval, while the black clothing breaks apart against the open weave of the jute. Though porous in places, the table seems to push forward. The person recedes.

Anna-Maria Škroba, Nazar, 2026, oil and gouache on jute 18 x 13 inches (Images courtesy of the artist and YveYANG Gallery)
Anna-Maria Škroba, Nazar, 2026, oil and gouache on jute 18 x 13 inches (Images courtesy of the artist and YveYANG Gallery)

That reversal raises a question that follows Škroba’s solo exhibition, I’m raining before the rain, at YveYANG: Why does she continue to paint the human figure while allowing other elements to overpower it?

Her figures are rarely absent. They sit, recline, walk, or occupy the middle of a field, yet they seldom govern the picture. Tables, roads, expanses of color, and the exposed fabric beneath the paint exert competing pressures. Škroba treats the figure less as a commanding subject than as something vulnerable to its surroundings. The body gives those surroundings something to act upon.

Anna-Maria Škroba, Neither-Nor (Bolshaya), 2025, oil on jute, 90½ x 63 inches
Anna-Maria Škroba, Neither-Nor (Bolshaya), 2025, oil on jute, 90½ x 63 inches

This is especially clear in Neither-Nor (Bolshaya). A seated woman appears within a monumental turquoise field, indicated by thin reddish-gray lines describing her head, torso, and bent legs. The figure is large, but scale does not translate into authority. The surrounding color carries greater visual weight, while the rough weave remains visible across body and ground. The woman never separates cleanly from the surface. She appears held within the field and partially undone by it.

Without the figure, the turquoise expanse might read primarily as a formal event—a field of color interrupted by paint and fabric. The body changes the stakes. It allows the field to feel enveloping, resistant, perhaps indifferent. The figure does not explain the space, but makes its force perceptible.

Škroba’s handling of paint intensifies this relation. On jute, pigment settles into translucent passages, accumulates in thicker patches, or catches unevenly on the raised weave. At times the fabric appears more definite than the image painted over it. A shoulder or knee may gather into recognizable form, while surrounding marks remain closer to abrasion, stain, or drag. The support does not simply carry the image; it interferes with its coherence.

In space, a reclining figure stretches across a muted green field. The body is pale and elongated, but the weave beneath it remains insistently present. The person seems less placed upon the fabric than absorbed into it. Here the figure gives material tension a bodily consequence. The jute’s resistance becomes more than texture because a body is attempting to distinguish itself from it.

Anna-Maria Škroba, High perspective, 2026, oil on canvas, 38⅝ x 33½ inches
Anna-Maria Škroba, High perspective, 2026, oil on canvas, 38⅝ x 33½ inches

High perspective approaches the question differently. Painted on canvas, it presents a curving gray road, a green slope, a broad diagonal shadow, and two small figures in the distance. The people are nearly reduced to punctuation marks. The road and shadow organize the picture, directing the eye and establishing scale. Still, the figures turn an arrangement of directional forms into a traversed space. Their smallness makes the landscape feel expansive, while their movement gives the road purpose.

This may be why Škroba keeps returning to the figure. Her paintings need a human presence, though not necessarily a human center. The body provides scale, fragility, and consequence. It allows a table to dominate, a field to engulf, or a road to exceed the person crossing it. The figure remains so that its loss of control can be seen.

The exhibition’s title, I’m raining before the rain, folds weather into the speaker. The self becomes a condition rather than a stable center. Škroba’s figures occupy a comparable position: they register the pressures of color, texture, and scale without mastering any of them.

Anna-Maria Škroba, May, 2026, oil on jute, 16⅞ x 11¾ inches
Anna-Maria Škroba, May, 2026, oil on jute, 16⅞ x 11¾ inches

There are limits to this approach. In May, a pale vertical form occupies a mottled yellow-green surface, but it is difficult to determine whether the shape is a person, an architectural fragment, or an accumulation of lighter paint. The uncertainty produces little friction because too little distinction remains to place under pressure. Exposed weave and blurred form begin to supply a generalized atmosphere rather than a specific pictorial relation.

This is the risk of Škroba’s recognizable vocabulary. Blurred faces, muted fields, fragmented silhouettes, and visible jute are familiar features of contemporary figurative painting. Her strongest works move beyond that familiarity by establishing a precise conflict between the figure and what surrounds it. The weaker ones rely on material roughness to generate mood.

Anna-Maria Škroba, Installation View, “Why Keep the Figure? Anna-Maria Škroba” at YveYANG
Anna-Maria Škroba, Installation View, “Why Keep the Figure? Anna-Maria Škroba” at YveYANG

Škroba’s figures matter most when they remain necessary without becoming sovereign. They do not dominate the paintings, yet their presence prevents color, fabric, and space from becoming purely formal. A body sits, reclines, or walks through the picture, and the world around it acquires force. The figure stays so that we can watch it lose control.

Anna-Maria Škroba: I’m raining before the rain July 9 – August 21, 2026 at YveYANG, 12 Wooster St., New York, NY 10013

He Spoke to the Birds: Extending the Everyday and Dissipating Resonations

by Taylor Bielecki

He Spoke To The Birds, a group exhibition curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan at the AAIE Center for Contemporary Art in Rome, is a journey into intricacies, interactions, and lingering conversations. Featuring Jeremias Rumpl, Diego Azzola, and Huang Zhe, the exhibition brings together practices with such disparate registers that, at first glance, they might seem incompatible. Yet curator Fan has woven them together skilfully, allowing each voice to be heard while the collective voice resonates just as strongly.

Huang Zhe, The Thinking of a Small Cluster of White Plants, 2026
Huang Zhe, The Thinking of a Small Cluster of White Plants, 2026

In Huang Zhe’s The Thinking of a Small Cluster of White Plants (2026), Fan introduces terms such as corroding, remembering, drifting, and dissolving. Words that feel light, airy, and weightless, yet suggest flow, connection, growth, and a steady presence through change. Each starts with an object, an element of nature, or a memory; through these actions, its point of departure shifts, much as the histories surrounding us do.

Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artists: Diego Azzola, Huang Zhe. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus
Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artists: Diego Azzola, Huang Zhe. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus

Standing in the midst of Rome’s everlasting history, this exhibition adds to its deep and ever-growing presence. Many works extend beyond themselves, allowing forms to grow while their lines still connect. A striking example that made an impact on me is Diego Azzola’s works, whose galvanized pipes emerge from his paintings as physical extensions of the image. In their original function, pipes carry water from one place to another; here, they do the same, linking works to the gallery and neighboring pieces. Rome has long been expanding and intertwining with new history, and its water systems still exist throughout the city, hidden, underground, lying at its edges, leaving a quiet but lasting imprint. Azzola’s pipes function metaphorically as fragments of a system that never entirely stopped functioning. He seems interested in what happens at the edges, where things cease to carry one singular meaning and instead become more complex and layered.

Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artist: Diego Azzola. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus
Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artist: Diego Azzola. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus

Fanfan Yuxuan Fan utilizes the space exceptionally well. Hung in clusters, the work develops their own conversations, guiding viewers through the gallery’s interestingly shaped architecture. Drawing on the spirit of Arte Povera, Fan enriches the curatorial framework by allowing the objects and materials to find their own voices — pipes, zinc plates, and smoke becoming not merely media, but interlocutors. This exhibition invites closer attention to details, connections, and intricacies. Interviewing Fan was immensely enlightening, offering insight into the process behind it, from engaging with the space to shaping relationships between works.

Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artist: Zhe Huang. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus.
Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artist: Zhe Huang. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus

TB: What drew you to choose these artists, and how did you work with them to choose the works for this particular space?

FYF: Diego Azzola and Huang Zhe have already built relations with AAlE. During my conversation with the gallery founder, I proposed inviting Jeremias Rumpl, based in Germany, to join. From the outset, I envisioned the project around materiality and the spirit of Arte Povera while remaining grounded in each artist’s practices that treat materials as active participants in the creative process.

TB: What interested AAIE in collaborating with you on the exhibition He Spoke to the Birds, especially in relation to supporting younger curatorial voices and international artists in Rome?

FYF: There was strong alignment from the start. AAlE has never been focused exclusively on or limited to local artists; its programs have always had an international vision and encouraged dialogue across cultural contexts. I was mindful that this exhibition would take place in Rome, a city where Arte Povera was not simply an art-historical reference, but a way of engaging with a history that originated in a living context for rethinking materiality. That shared vision made the collaboration feel natural and meaningful.

TB: How did you consider the exhibition as a space where different forms of time and material presence coexist beyond physical presence? How did you decide on placement and installation heights?

FYF: The AAlE space is very different from a conventional white cube. Its triangular corners and irregular geometry, characteristic of Roman architecture, opened up possibilities that a standard space would not. I grouped Diego’s installations by color and series within one corner, while positioning sculptures of different forms and tones in dialogue with Huang Zhe’s paintings. Throughout, I was thinking about spatial narrative, how to create a sequence that feels coherent while remaining visually engaging and full of unexpected encounters.

TB: Given the deep history of Rome, what kinds of conversations or connections were you hoping might enter the gallery as viewers experience the work?

FYF: Rome made this exhibition possible in a particular way. There is something about a city where history is never abstract, where ancient infrastructure, ruins, and contemporary life coexist, that invites a return to what is most essential. For me, the exhibition also returns to one of the fundamental ideas behind Arte Povera: not a style or historical movement, but an attitude toward the world. He Spoke To The Birds suggests a way of relating to nature and all living things with equality and attentiveness. In today’s uncertain world, I hope it offers a quieter space to reconsider our relationships, with one another, with materials, and with the natural world — to slow down, to listen, and to reconnect with what is most essential.

TB: At what point does the material stop being a surface and become a collaborator? Is the metal seen as an extension of the work? Perhaps acting as a drawn line?

FYF: I think that’s a very apt reading of Diego Azzola’s work. The galvanized pipes are not simply structural elements; they become active collaborators in shaping the composition and the viewer’s movement through space. Extending beyond the pictorial surface, they function like drawn lines that have escaped the canvas and unfolded into three dimensions. They also carry a historical resonance in Rome, deeply embedded in the city’s architectural infrastructure, so when Diego brings them into dialogue with painting, the material responds to the image, the space, and history surrounding it.

Jeremias Rumpl, House book, 2024
Jeremias Rumpl, House book, 2024

TB: The show title evokes a foundational ethos of Arte Povera: a world in which human and non-human exist on the same level. How do you feel this theme fits the works? How does each artist embody this ethos?

FYF: I think each artist embodies this ethos differently, but all approach materials as something with agency. That openness lies at the heart of the spirit of Arte Povera and this exhibition. Jeremias Rumpl relinquishes part of the creative process to acid, weather, and time, allowing the material to shape the final work. Diego Azzola places industrial pipes, painting, and marine forms on equal terms, without hierarchy, dissolving boundaries between the natural, the built, and the imagined. Huang Zhe transforms smoke into a painted presence, allowing memory and atmosphere to emerge through a material that is almost impossible to grasp. None of them impose meaning on their materials; instead, they enter into a dialogue. That willingness to listen, to materials, to time, and to the more-than-human world, is what most deeply connects their practices to Arte Povera and the title He Spoke To The Birds.

TB: Elements within the pieces vary in weight and presence; how did you negotiate those differences while maintaining the coherence of the whole show?

FYF: I didn’t begin by thinking about contrast or balance between materials. Each artist had already developed their own material language: zinc, pipes, and smoke were not choices I imposed, but vocabularies already in motion. What I noticed was that these materials also carried a particular resonance in Rome: a city built on stone, water systems, and accumulated time. The differences in weight and presence emerged naturally from bringing these three practices together. My role was less about negotiation and more about creating the right spatial conditions for each to exist on its own terms, while allowing connections to emerge across the exhibition.

Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artists: Diego Azzola, Huang Zhe. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus.

Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artists: Diego Azzola, Huang Zhe. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus
Installation view of He Spoke To The Birds, Rome. Artists: Diego Azzola, Huang Zhe. Curated by Fanfan Yuxuan Fan. Courtesy of AAIE and FanFlus

About the Writer:
Taylor Bielecki lives in Gowanus, where her studio is, and works at Pratt Institute, where she earned her MFA. She also studied at Penn State, where she earned a BA in English and a BFA in Fine Arts. She finished as a finalist in the Kennedy Center’s VSA National Emerging Young Artist program for 2017, where she earned an award of Excellence. She has shown prints internationally in a print exchange in Australia and exhibitions in Dubai, India, and the Glasgow School of Art. She has also shown paintings internationally in Gallery 24N, PhilaMOCA’s juried exhibitions in Philadelphia, Pa., Perry Lawson Fine Art in Nyack, NY, BWAC in Red Hook, and IW Gallery in Brooklyn. Taylor works for Two Coats of Paint, TUSSLE Magazine, and has joined Art Spiel as a contributing writer. @Taylor.Bielecki

A Visit to the Frick Collection

by Roy Bernardi

A pleasant way to enjoy a sunny afternoon in New York City is to explore a hidden treasure located just across from Central Park and steps from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Despite having visited New York City numerous times, I had never taken the opportunity to experience the Frick Collection museum. While strolling through the city with the lovely Theodora Chizoman Anurukem, an elementary school teacher, we paused on a bench near Central Park. Nearby, we saw a banner promoting the Frick museum, which led us to discover that we were conveniently situated right across the street. To our surprise, there were a large number of visitors for a museum of its scale. Notably, the museum enforces a policy that prohibits entry for children under the age of ten, which effectively excludes families with young children from attending. 

Hans Holbein the Younger (1497-1543), Sir Thomas More, 1527, Oil on oak panel, 29-1/2 x 23-3/4 inches
Hans Holbein the Younger (1497-1543), Sir Thomas More, 1527, oil on oak panel, 29-1/2 x 23-3/4 inches

The Frick Collection, 1 East 70th Street, Manhattan, NY which opened its doors to the public in 1935, boasts one of the most distinguished collections of European paintings globally. Located within the Henry Clay Frick House, built in 1913, the establishment includes a garden and a central fountain situated in the middle of the residence. Its collection showcases artwork ranging from the early Renaissance to Impressionist period, arranged without a specific logical or chronological sequence.

Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675), Mistress and the Maid, 1664-67, Oil on canvas, 35-1/2 x 31 inches
Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675), Mistress and the Maid, 1664-67, oil on canvas, 35-1/2 x 31 inches

The collection features two notable paintings by J. M. W. Turner (1775-1851) and one by John Constable (1776-1837). It is particularly impressive that Frick was able to obtain three works by Johannes Vermeer (1632-1675), especially considering that the artist only painted 34 works in his lifetime that are acknowledged as genuine. Like many collectors, Frick focused on depth, often obtaining multiple works from the same artist. His collection includes five pieces by James McNeill Whistler (1834-1903), four of which are large-scale full length body portraits, two portraits by Titian (Tiziano Vecellio) (1490-1576), four by George Romney (1734-1802), and three by Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn (1606-1669), including one self-portrait. Additionally, it features two iconic portraits by Hans Holbein the Younger (1497-1543), three paintings by El Greco (1541-1614), four by Francisco de Goya (1746-1828), five portraits by Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788), and eight by Anthony van Dyck (1599-1641).

El Greco (1541-1614), St. Jerome, 1590-1600, Oil on canvas, 43-1/2 x 37-1/2 inches
El Greco (1541-1614), St. Jerome, 1590-1600, oil on canvas, 43-1/2 x 37-1/2 inches

The collection is further enriched with five landscape paintings by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot (1796-1875), as well as works by Gilbert Stuart (1755-1828), Edgar Degas (1834-1917), Anton Mauve (1838-1888), Claude Monet (1840-1926), and Diego Rodríguez de Silva y Velázquez (1599-1660). Beyond paintings, it also includes carpets, porcelain, sculptures, and period furniture.

Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn (1606-1669), Self-portrait, 1658, Oil on canvas, 52-5/8 x 40-7/8 inches
Rembrandt Harmensz van Rijn (1606-1669), Self-portrait, 1658, oil on canvas, 52-5/8 x 40-7/8 inches

Henry Clay Frick (December 19, 1849 – December 2, 1919) was a prominent American industrialist, financier, and art patron, known for establishing the H. C. Frick & Company coke manufacturing firm and later serving as chairman of Carnegie Steel Company. In the later part of his career, he played a crucial role in the creation of U.S. Steel, which emerged as the largest steel producer in the world.

Gerard David (1460-1523), The Deposition, 1495-1500, Oil on canvas, 56-1/8 x 44-1/4 inches
Gerard David (1460-1523), The Deposition, 1495-1500, oil on canvas, 56-1/8 x 44-1/4 inches

Frick wed Adelaide Howard Childs from Pittsburgh on December 15, 1881, and together they had four children, two of whom passed away in infancy.

On July 23, 1892, Frick survived a harrowing assassination attempt, during which he was shot twice at close range and stabbed four times in the leg while attempting to subdue his assailant. Frick miraculous survived.

Gerald Kelly (1879-1972), Portrait of Henry Clay Frick, 1924, Oil on canvas, 29-1/4 x 24-1/4 inches
Gerald Kelly (1879-1972), Portrait of Henry Clay Frick, 1924, Oil on canvas, 29-1/4 x 24-1/4 inches

In 1912, Frick and Adelaide while on vacation in Europe had planned to return to New York aboard the RMS Titanic’s maiden voyage, accompanied by J. P. Morgan. However, they canceled their journey after Adelaide sustained a sprained ankle in Italy, thereby narrowly avoiding the disaster that befell the ship.

Frick died of a heart attack on December 2, 1919, at the age of 69. He was buried in Pittsburgh’s Homewood Cemetery.

A Return to Our Magical Mythological Origins

by Chunbum Park

The Art of Cross-Cultural, Trans-Atlantic Friendship and the Return to Our Magical Mythological Origins, New Paltz, NY

Artists and visitors at Villa Isis. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park
Artists and visitors at Villa Isis. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park

At Villa Isis, a gallery in the woods that also functions as a creative retreat, Lise Ellingsen curates an exhibition of 20+ artists and film directors as a form of cultural exchange and bonding of relations. This cross-cultural event sponsored by the Royal Norwegian Consulate General New York and in collaboration with Oscar Galleri from Norway is a trans-Atlantic gesture of friendship between the Nordic countries and the United States. 

Titled, Villa Isis: A Nordic-New York Immersive Art Experience, the exhibition features the works of Jens Lien, Anja Breien, Eva Davidova, Tatiana Florival, Anki King, Avani Patel, Yasmeen Abdallah, Lisa Saeboe, Shayna Strype, Eliza Lu Doyle, Kristin Jacobsen, Karine Ruud, Lise Ellingsen, Avery Syrig, and additional invited artists.

The scope of the exhibition includes works of painting, sculpture, and immersive VR and video projection, which occupy spaces out in the open amongst the foliages and within the interior of the gallery. The works all communicate with one another and inscribe experiences and new thoughts within the viewers in a complex ecosystem and web of ideas and meanings.

Anki King - “Human Nature” (2026), branches and vines over armature, 72 x 12 x 8 inches. Photo Credit: Fred Hatt
Anki King, “Human Nature” (2026), branches and vines over armature, 72 x 12 x 8 inches. Photo Credit: Fred Hatt

Anki King’s Human Nature is a sculptural installation made with branches and vines over armature that merges seamlessly with its natural surroundings. The work reimagines humanity’s DNA in the vegetal form requiring a magical power to transform into it. The vegetal and natural body representing a young woman is neither a prison nor a limitation; it is a type of liberation as if the person is waking up from a dream into the reality of the natural realm. The lack of arms on the figure is a part of the metaphor that captures the essence of existence for the vegetal forms existing in nature. This is just as flowers and trees lack upper appendages and digital manipulators (aka hands with fingers) and must rely purely on communication via pollens and other chemical signals. In the installation, the sculpture is lit with a red light for nighttime viewing and is surrounded by leaves and branches, the boundary to which is indistinguishable from the sculpture’s idea as the self.

Lise Ellingsen, “Auðumbla” (2023), 3D printed polylactic acid, resin, paint, polymer clay, faux snow and grass, tree and video projections and screens, archaic claw machine led and black lights, 20 x 30 x 20 feet. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park
Lise Ellingsen, “Auðumbla” (2023), 3D printed polylactic acid, resin, paint, polymer clay, faux snow and grass, tree and video projections and screens, archaic claw machine led and black lights, 20 x 30 x 20 feet. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park

Lise Ellingsen’s Auðumbla (2023) is an ambitious sculptural installation involving lights, resin pieces, and a TV screen that illustrate the Nordic mythology of the primeval cow who fed the primordial frost jötunn Ymir milk. It is also said that Auðumbla, which is pronounced as “eidoombla” in English, also licked and dissolved the salty rime rocks to reveal Búri, the grandfather of the gods. In the work, we see the cow extending a giant tongue to lick away at the rock, surrounded by scattered and glowing mushrooms. The digital screen displays a repeating spiral pattern perhaps to visually represent the process and the sensation of touch and taste by the gigantic corpus linguae. This work along with Anki King’s Human Nature and others positions the exhibition as a space for contemporary reinterpretation of and re-engagement with the magical and mythological origins and perception of humanity. This is the aesthetic and symbolic realm and narrative mode that had existed for tens or hundreds of thousands of human existence before the rise of science and technology in the modern era, which shattered those realms.

Kristin Jacobsen - “SMASH” (2026), photography mounted on aluminum mesh, dimensions variable (20 pieces sized A2 with metallic hanging. Photo Credit: Kristin Jacobsen
Kristin Jacobsen, “SMASH” (2026), photography mounted on aluminum mesh, dimensions variable (20 pieces sized A2 with metallic hanging. Photo Credit: Kristin Jacobsen

Kristin Jacobsen, a photographer and gallerist from Oslo, Norway, installs her signature piece titled, SMASH (2026), from the upper height of a tall tree. The installation is made from twenty A2 photographs mounted on aluminum mesh and crumpled like discarded pieces of paper. The aluminum metal furnishes the piece with a sense of permanency and longevity, which the photographs printed on paper would lack. And the photographs imbue the work with internal raw visual materials that add substance and narrative to the ideation and production process by the artist. The work is very much about the process of creativity. Why did the artist use the metaphor of the act of smushing the photographs? Jacobsen appears to reflect on the fact that the process of creativity involves steps of aesthetic and visual selection, in which additions of the ideal and the subtraction of the unideal take place. What works and what doesn’t in the final image or product? This may be a dangerous habit of artists that, when applied to the sociopolitical realm, results in evil policies of Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan around the time of World War II. The work serves as reversal of this habit and process of selection amongst the artists, in which the artist destroys photographs, whether her own or found, equally and without saving the favorites, as a form of expression and questioning.

Eva Davidova, “AR Dancer with Plants” (2024), augmented reality animation, dimensions variable. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park
Eva Davidova, “AR Dancer with Plants” (2024), augmented reality animation, dimensions variable. Photo Credit: Chunbum Park

Eva Davidova’s AR Dancer with Plants utilizes augmented reality technology on a camera-equipped camera to project a dancing figure of a vegetal humanoid onto a circular grouping of stones. The augmented reality depicts not only a dancer but also the flowers and trees standing by the dancer. Davidova’s piece gives life and agency to the natural surroundings on figurative terms to which humans can relate, serving as a bridge between the human imagination and the natural realm. The work, which is technologically-based, traverses several domains, including the human, the symbolic, the metaphorical, the natural, and the electronic machine. As a result, the installation is a reaction against our word-based thinking and preconceptions that box us into rigid thinking, preset definitions, and binaries of opposition. Davidova’s art turns out to be not just an art or a 3D rendering, but it is a creature and a vegetal life form with a life force that exists within the symbolic and aesthetic realm of not just human but also the imagination of all life in the form of atoms per posthumanist theory and pananimism. 

Villa Isis: A Nordic-New York Immersive Art Experience is a thoughtfully curated exhibition in which the artists’ and curators’ visions interact and engage in a meaningful dialogue for re-imagination and re-examination of our magical and mythological roots. The shifting of boundaries of identity and narratives that cross over multiple realms between the human and nature and the machine allows us to rediscover our potential for spiritual liberation and a means of finding our place in the universe. The exchange between the American and the Nordic artists is an encounter of identities and symbolisms between a locality and a cosmopolitan hybridity (consisting of multicultural origins). 

In this communication and exchange, the Nordic artists who come from a particular region and people in Europe have something to teach to the Americans, who originate from all over the world (because the US is a nation of immigrants). While the progressive arm of the US had been a pioneer of the democratic values of diversity and equality, it is now the Europeans who learned the ideological modes of the Americans and are teaching the Americans in turn about their past morally superior position of democratic values and progressive ideals. This position was prior to the rise of Trumpism and MAGA, which destroyed the American stature as the leader of the free world. While the world is greatly turbulent and changed by the rise of right-wing extremism and strongmen, the exchange across the Atlantic is an important channel for communication between the progressively-minded people. This is because we must engage in this kind of gathering and dialogue in order to reflect on our own purpose and reinvigorate our trajectory… of progress in the pursuit of human rights and dignity, equality, democratic and humanist values… for not only humanity but also Mother Earth.

Keunhee Park: the Question of Transparency in Relation to Identity and Truth

by Chunbum Park

Installation View of “Maze”
Installation View of “Maze”

At Keunhee Park’s solo exhibition, MAZE, at the Riverside Gallery in Hackensack, NJ, sculptures that alternate between the modes of transparent glass and opaque wood manifest themselves in succinct metaphors about the nature of identity and being. While Park’s work appears purely abstract with only formal concerns on the surface, it is totally concerned with the real world and, in particular, the human world and the questions of identity.

These sculptures contain forms that turn in rectilinear fashion like a literal 3-dimensional maze or snake game that maps out the possible pathways of movement and/or communication link. They carry the vestiges of certain conceptual and instruction-based works by the likes of Sol Lewitt, whose work including Floor-Wall Grid (1966) would stand as an example of the grid that Rosalind Krauss would write about in her seminal 1979 essay describing the use of grid as a powerful motif to bring about a new vocabulary that did not exist prior and as a language of the abstract realm that distinguishes itself from the “real” world.

The rectilinear geometry would manifest itself throughout history, whether the perspectival space or the windows in modern painting like Matisse’s masterpieces, as Krauss would point out in her writing. The grid as a window acknowledges the “frame” that exists outside or within the inner dimensions of the artwork. In Park’s grid-like constructions, the spatial dynamics is highly organized and curated with a specific set of rules and conventions in which the spatial dynamics come together. These underlying codes of spatial turns and projections suggest a fundamental language or building block as we see in the form of pixels on a computer display or the bricks of a virtual world.

“Maze” Series by Keunhee Park
“Maze” Series by Keunhee Park

Why does a pathway suddenly change direction as if it were being stopped by something and were seeking an alternate path? Why does it continue to move uninterrupted in a straight line from certain positions?

Park’s sculptures represent the self and how we navigate the world or the environment in which the self exists, which is ultimately in relation to the other selves that occupy different positions in space time. Very interesting theories abound in physics that may inform our understanding of existence and the cosmos, including the fact that the electrons are virtually indistinguishable from one another. What if we were the electrons, but we were the same person, just spread out across various points in the space time continuum?

Particular portions of the sculptures alternate between the materials of wood and glass, as if to equate transparency with honesty and opacity with secrecy of the inner self. It is important to identify the difference between the surface and the core in relation to the question of identity, and Park’s sculptures in part reflect this binary relationship. Were the core of the self to become more visible, it must become more transparent and honest, yet the being or the object becomes less clearly defined, more susceptible to the influence of the surrounding elements (such as light and reflections), and more vulnerable. The opposite is true of opacity; with secrecy, the being or the object becomes less honest, yet it is also more protected and less vulnerable.

This is the contradictory and ironic condition of the universe and existence. Why do humans value honesty and integrity so much in a world where one must pay more to uphold such noble ideals?

In another reading of Park’s sculptures, the transparent glass portions may suggest the imaginary or the imagined decisions and outcomes, whereas the opaque wooden parts may suggest what is real in the status quo, prior to the event of imagination that spawns subsequent actions. Park’s works may also reflect on human existence as a mix of the imaginary and the real structures. The imaginary and the real differentiate into the realm of social and political structures, economic structures, and so on in the imaginary, and the physical structures in the real.

Human structures are not only made of tangible objects but also the symbolic and aesthetic objects, to which Park’s Maze series belongs in reality. Ultimately, it is important to consider the alternate histories of what could have happened had we taken the other path. This is because alternative history and imagination allow us to critique and to reform the sociopolitical and economic structures, as well as the individual being (in terms of one’s condition and circumstances), in the status quo. Park’s sculptures may have begun as the artist’s reflection of a life lived, in which he had to struggle numerous times throughout life, only to become an artist, which in and of itself is a path of multiple struggles. However, the Maze series also carries a universal value and meaning because it is a human nature and condition to struggle and to seek out a decision at the crossroads.

Keunhee Park: MAZE, June 19 – July 6, 2026, 1 Riverside Square, Suite 201, Hackensack, NJ 07601