#jade-whipkey

#jade-whipkey

"This festival, 'Embrace Winter,' is now in its 14th year. We've hosted several events throughout the season, and this is our final one. Today we're here celebrating art, culture and community all coming together."

All but one of the song titles on Body Sound, the debut album from experimental string trio Whitney Johnson, Lia Kohl, and Macie Stewart, line up nicely-a few words, usually two, usually nouns, separated by a vertical line. The straight line in the middle means different things in different disciplines. In computing, it's called a 'pipe' and serves as a conduit. In poetry, it denotes a pause or break. In music, it marks the beginning and end of measures.

"These works are an exploration of the human body's elasticity and capacity to metamorphose. Informed by my own experience of pregnancy and the birth of my first child last year, these paintings are a meditation on physiological transformation and the body's underlying animalistic and mammalian nature."

A circular concrete ring forms a defined boundary, incorporating a landing and three steps that lead into a contained field of refined sand. At the center of this ring rises a tall cone clad in polished mirrored steel. The composition establishes a clear geometric contrast between the horizontal plane of sand and the vertical reflective surface.

Pratt Shows is an annual series of public exhibitions and presentations by the Institute's graduating class, representing years of research, exploration, and creative inquiry.

The 2026 Whitney Biennial opened at the beginning of the month, providing a snapshot of current trends and curatorial interests in the art world.

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.

With 70-plus shows, it's all you need to know about the major art happenings of the season. There's something in it for everyone, from the ancient to the futuristic. Above all, this is a love letter to our city, where art never sleeps.

This year, we opted to sort our spring guide into categories, the better to match your mood. There are the shows everyone's talking about - big names like Duchamp and Raphael (seriously, how is this the first major survey of his in the city?), Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. There are major surveys, like the New Museum's inaugural show in its expanded building, MoMA PS1's Greater New York triennial, and of course, the Whitney Biennial.

In the language of climate, water is dialectical: It is overabundance and scarcity; needed as well as dreaded. Psychologically, it can represent the unconscious, the maternal, the prelapsarian. Artist Deborah Jack disrupts any viewer's impulse to find recreational soothing in the ocean's tidal landscape, as she openly critiques the legitimacy of cartography, empire, and ecological adaptation. Jack's six-channel video installation "a sea desalts, creeping in the collapse... in the expanse...a rhizome looks for reason... whispers an elegy instead"

The Brooklyn-based artist is formally trained as a painter and self-taught as a ceramicist, and she fuses the two modes of working into a complementary practice. Hier begins by sculpting a wide range of forms, and after several rounds of firing with both handmade and commercially available glazes, she adds a painting. The pairings arise intuitively, sometimes through free association, trial and error, or by homing in on a color.

Taking over the museum's transformed school building starting April 16, the cross-borough survey will celebrate MoMA PS1's 50th anniversary with a bevy of site-specific installations, new commissions, and rarely seen work by 53 artists and collectives living and working across New York City. A complete list of participants is included at the end of this article. This year, Greater New York will coincide with the Whitney Biennial for the first time in the show's history.

I work outside, carving and shaping the stone. Outside my house, I have a table, an extension cord, and tools. It's very cold and I have to wear all my winter clothes. When it's too cold, I do the filing and finishing work inside after I shape it outside. I listen to all kinds of music. I listen to Eminem all the time; his albums are all my favorites. For drawings, I work at Kinngait Studios or at home on my kitchen table.

Mornings are best for concentrated work. In the winter, I turn on the heat at 8am and get started around 10am. Summer, I start around 9am. I have two areas in the studio for projects. The large, heavy wood sculptures are carved in the front section of the studio, closest to the roll-up wide door. Smaller sculptures are placed on a hydraulic workbench. Before I start, I focus, connect with the Source, and ask for guidance.

Presented with improbable dignity in a golden box is a hanging ornament in the shape of the Trevi Fountain that comes with a "complimentary papal blessing." Its roughly shaped details would be dull if the whole thing weren't drowned in glitter. Under the shop lights, this perfect miniature of late Baroque architecture explodes in shine: a beacon promising a brighter future and a better life.

For this exhibition, Reinecke presents variations of leisure activities in an imaginary wooded landscape and cozy warm interiors infused with sentimentality. Reinecke highlights common outdoor activities such as hiking, swimming and fishing to simple domestic pleasures such as applying nail polish to a loved ones toes upon a green shag carpet in front of a blazing fire ( Cherries in the Snow, 2025).

There is something very Old New York about a young woman putting herself on the lineliterallyand daring the city to keep up. Not the nostalgic, sepia-toned New York of postcards and penthouses, but the one with bite: downtown after dark, sweat and bravado, art that doesn't ask permission and music that doesn't wait its turn. That is where Lexa Gates lives right now, and Her on the Wheelthe durational performance staged at Jeffrey Deitchfelt like a perfectly tuned provocation to a city that still understands nerve.