We don't eat batteries. They take away the water; they take away life. This pronouncement, in Spanish, appears in a photograph that the artist Tomás Saraceno sent via WhatsApp last month from Salinas Grandes, a high-altitude salt flat in northern Argentina. There, in one of the world's largest lithium reserves, the artist is working alongside 11 Indigenous communities to build El Santuario del Agua (The Water Sanctuary), a monumental work about the global energy transition.
I thought that my life had somehow ended, he said of the shock of landing there and the harsh treatment from the moment of arrival. Now free, he is one of more than 100 of those deportees whom a federal court in the US has ruled must be allowed to return to American soil to be given the due process Judge James Boasberg says they were denied when they were deported.
For the Escarrias-petite sisters of African descent born ten months apart in Cali, Colombia-commercial photography was in their family DNA. Their parents established a studio in their hometown that was overseen by their mother after their father's early demise. The siblings learned the family trade, and when they fled the country's civil war in 1958, they quickly reestablished the studio in Buenos Aires.
On Franklin Street in Brooklyn's Greenpoint neighborhood, one non-commercial gallery fosters 'a small, stubbornly human space for friction.' Friction—the ubiquitous buzzword that captures the simultaneous delight and discomfort of doing things the slow way—is at the heart of artists Pap Souleye Fall and Char Jeré's current show at Subtitled NYC. It also reflects the overall spirit of this little exhibition space and of a burgeoning movement to reject our culture of optimization in favor of a bumpier, more intimate, less alienating experience.
Michelle Paulin dances while instructing youth at the Dulce Tricolor Venezolano dance group at the Ariel Dance Studio in Campbell on Jan. 25, 2026. Dulce Tricolor, a Bay Area Venezuelan dance group founded in 2019, teaches children traditional folk dances while preserving culture, building community and offering a sense of home amid Venezuela's ongoing political and economic crisis. (Josie Lepe for KQED)
Now, he celebrates his first major presentation in Latin America, in congruence with Mexico City Art Week 2026 and ZSONAMACO, showcasing on an ideal stage inside one of the city's most architecturally layered interiors. Titled The Resident, the site-responsive installation, created during a residency at the Diez Company house, transforms the historic showroom into an immersive tableau where more than 50 works negotiate the boundaries between collectible design, contemporary art, and spatial theater.
Minutes after Donald Trump announced a large-scale strike against Venezuela early on Saturday morning, false and misleading AI-generated images began flooding social media. There were fake photos of Nicolas Maduro being escorted off a plane by US law enforcement agents, images of jubilant Venezuelans pouring into the streets of Caracas and videos of missiles raining down on the city all fake. The fabricated content intermixed with real videos and photos of US aircraft flying over the Venezuelan capital
At first glance, the image has all the trappings of a Serious Tactical Raid Photo, à la Pete Souza's famous Situation Room snapshot, which showed President Barack Obama and his national-security team tracking the raid on Osama bin Laden's compound. But then you see what's behind Hegseth: a large screen displaying an X feed. The photo is blurry, but it seems to show Hegseth and company using X's search function to monitor tweets about the raid.
Bernardo grew up in Monterrey, Mexico. From a young age, movement was part of his life. He rode BMX and mountain bikes daily. That routine shaped his mindset. "Being on a bike teaches you focus," he says. "You fall, you get back up, and you keep going." That early discipline stayed with him. It later showed up in his professional life, even when the work looked very different.
An exhibition of Wifredo Lam is about as safe a bet as the Museum of Modern Art can place and still plausibly say that it's a bet on expanding the canon. The Cuban artist is one of the most famous painters of the 20th century, featured in almost every single key show about Surrealism. MoMA acquired his famous painting The Jungle in 1946, a few years after he made it.
Otherworldly forms greet you at the entrance to the exhibition, transporting you into a kaleidoscopic, dream-like space. A voice speaks in the background as projected images dance across the forms, animating the space. "It's been really beautiful to see her work come alive, become a landscape ... where you can traverse and kind of get lost," curator Fabiola R. Delgado says of Lisu Vega's "The Uncertain Future of Absence (El Futuro Incierto de la Ausencia)" (2025).
The artists José Parlá and Claudia Hilda, his wife, live in a former fire station in Fort Greene surrounded by memories of Cuba, which Parlá's ­family fled in 1970 and where ­Hilda lived until recently. "There's a lot of magical realism here, a big mix of Cuban traditions and religion," says Parlá, pointing to an icon of la Caridad del Cobre, the island's patron saint, in the kitchen. "We cannot move her!"
While Armenia has long been recognized for its rich and storied historical art and culture, the country's contemporary art scene is emerging as one to watch on a global scale. Armenian artists stand out for their ability to synthesize their own cultural heritage with avant-garde approaches to contemporary artmaking, bridging tradition with self-expression. Paralleling broader rising critical and market interest and investment in regions outside of the West, ARAR Gallery of Utrecht, the Netherlands, is at the forefront of Armenian art's mounting international presence.
Regina Silveira has spent the better part of three decades considering the relationship between media and meaning, particularly as it relates to Latin America. First presented in 1997, "To Be Continued..." features 100 black-and-white reproductions of photos, newspaper clippings, propaganda, advertisements, and more. Silveira nests each image into an oversized puzzle piece, which cuts off faces and scenes to leave fragments of pop culture icons, flora and fauna, and even the occasional mugshot spliced next to one another.
If, like me, you'd rather be in Puerto Rico slathering mashed banana on your semi-nude body than braving the forthcoming cold front in New York City, just know you're not alone. "TROPICALIZE ME!" (2025), pictured above, was performed by Matthieu Laurette at the 3rd Gran Bienal Tropical in December, where the artist took home one of five "Golden Coconuts" along with Poncili Creación, Ángela María Domínguez, Miguel González, and Aldo Álvarez Tostado.
Drawing inspiration from the Renaissance atmosphere of Palazzo Grimani, Boafo turns his gaze to the rich Venetian portrait tradition. The artist is creating a series of new works specifically for the exhibition, directly referencing this historical context and the unique architecture of the palace.
The artists José Parlá and Claudia Hilda, his wife, live in a former fire station in Fort Greene surrounded by memories of Cuba, which Parlá's family fled in 1970 and where Hilda lived until recently. "There's a lot of magical realism here, a big mix of Cuban traditions and religion," says Parlá, pointing to an icon of la Caridad del Cobre, the island's patron saint, in the kitchen. "We cannot move her!"
In her manifesto, Borderlands/La Frontera, Anzaldúa presents what she calls a new mestiza consciousness, which advocates for ambiguity and moves "toward a more whole perspective, one that includes rather than excludes." Groundbreaking when it was published in 1987, this theory pushed queer, feminist, and cultural scholars to consider how identity is both fluid and informed by several overlapping factors. It also helped to lay the groundwork for branches of study like ecofeminism,
One of the great things about making art is discovering something that sprang from seemingly nowhere. In retrospect it looks logical but in the moment it's an epiphany and suddenly it's exciting to explore it. My studio is across the street from Creative Woodworking and they have a box where they put scrap wood for anyone who wants it and it's irresistible to me.
