[{"id":24875,"date":"2026-09-24T12:42:12","date_gmt":"2026-09-24T16:42:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24875"},"modified":"2026-09-25T18:36:14","modified_gmt":"2026-09-25T22:36:14","slug":"not-just-a-relic-asking-who-gets-to-be-contemporary-at-knma","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/09\/24\/not-just-a-relic-asking-who-gets-to-be-contemporary-at-knma\/","title":{"rendered":"Not Just a Relic: Asking Who Gets to Be Contemporary at KNMA"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">For much of its institutional life, folk art has occupied an uneasy position. Celebrated as a repository of heritage, it has often been denied the status of contemporary practice. <a href=\"https:\/\/www.knma.org\/whats-on\/exhibitions\/pata-dekhabo\/\"><em>Pata Dekhabo? (Shall I Show You a Pata?)<\/em><\/a> at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, in Delhi, challenges that relegation, presenting Pattachitra\u2014one of the oldest art forms in eastern India\u2014as a living tradition capable of transformation. The exhibition, which includes centuries-old art alongside recent work, resists framing authenticity as dependent upon a form\u2019s resistance to change. Here, the artists\u2019 engagement with contemporary realities becomes proof of the form\u2019s vitality rather than a departure from tradition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">There is something uncanny about encountering this itinerant storytelling convention in the Art Passage, a sky bridge connecting two Delhi shopping malls: Nexus Select Citywalk and DLF South Court, where the museum is located. At first glance, the setting seems to domesticate the work in <em>Pata Dekhabo?<\/em>, reducing it to ornament. Yet the curators chose the bridge, rather than the museum\u2019s galleries inside DLF, for a reason. Patua artists, called Patuas or Chitrakars, historically worked in spaces of circulation rather than contemplation\u2014temple festivals, village squares, princely courts. The mall\u2019s accidental spectators reproduce these conditions in a more modern setting. Attention here is still provisional.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The title of the show poses a deceptively simple question: Shall I show you a picture? Traditionally, this was the phrase Patuas used as an invitation for the audience. But a pata has never been merely a picture. Pattachitra\u2014derived from the Sanskrit patta (cloth) and chitra (picture)\u2014is a scroll painting from eastern India (Odisha, Jharkhand, and West Bengal) and Bangladesh. The Patua was a one-person multimedia apparatus. They unfurled scrolls, singing the accompanying story, activating the painted surface through voice and rhythm. What emerged was an immersive, cross-modal encounter.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-portrait-large is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:3.40199335548; --aspect-ratio-y:0.2939453125; --aspect-ratio-cover:3.40199335548; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.2939453125; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.2939453125; --aspect-ratio-padding:340.199335548%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Manasa-Mangal-4_2-301x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Manasa-Mangal-4_2-301x1024\" width=\"301\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Manasa-Mangal-4_2-301x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Rani Chitrakar,<em> Manasa Lakhinder Pata<\/em> (detail), 1940, Bengal Pata, Naya Village, Medinipur, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Manasa-Mangal-4_2-301x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Rani Chitrakar,<em> Manasa Lakhinder Pata<\\\/em> (detail), 1940, Bengal Pata, Naya Village, Medinipur, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The exhibition contains 46 reproductions from the museum\u2019s collection, alongside replicas from other institutions. The original artworks, which are ancient handheld scrolls and delicate paintings made with oil and natural pigment, have been reproduced as digital prints on paper pasted on cloth and blown up in size for easier viewing, to address safety concerns. However, the reproductions raise questions about who is granted access to the \u201cauthentic\u201d object and who must encounter its surrogate. The exhibition leaves these cultural hierarchies largely unexamined\u2014a significant gap in its otherwise nuanced treatment of authenticity, power, and artistic value.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The ideal way to view the exhibit is to start from the DLF mall side, as the works are curated chronologically. The first three scrolls narrate ancient mythologies\u2014<em>Chandimangal<\/em>,<em> Manasa Lakhinder<\/em>,and <em>Gaur Netai<\/em>. Archival recordings of songs that accompanied these stories can be heard through three sets of headphones installations, pulling the aural element of Pattachitra into the exhibition. The voices, rhythmic melodies, and tribal language bring the folk character of these paintings to the fore, allowing visitors to imagine them as part of a larger oral and performative tradition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Patuas have a fluid religious identity that merges their original Hindu ancestry and their later large-scale conversion to Islam to escape caste discriminations. They effortlessly adopt and embrace both Hindu and Islamic myths and iconography as their own. The display reflects this fluidity through works like the thirteen-meter-long <em>Gazi <\/em>scroll. Created in Bengal in the nineteenth century in the Murshidabad style, it features fifty-four vivid, detailed floral and geometric frames, arranged sequentially, depicting the chronicles of Bengali Muslim saints Gazi Pir and Manik Pir. Drawn in a flattened graphic style with rich color contrasts, the iconography involves both Hindu and Islamic sensibilities, like in the panel where a resplendent Gazi Pir is shown holding a cobra like a staff and mounting a tiger like a vahana; figures that resemble Krishna and Radha make an appearance elsewhere. The intricately detailed depictions of Bengali-hut-style Muslim shrines and the Buraq<em>\u2014<\/em>a winged composite creature that has a crowned human head, feathered peacock tail, and body that is part tiger and part camel<em>\u2014<\/em><em> <\/em>co-opt Islamic styles. The onlookers, through their dress and comportment, also appear to belong to both Muslim and Hindu communities.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-portrait-large is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:2.08553971487; --aspect-ratio-y:0.4794921875; --aspect-ratio-cover:2.08553971487; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.4794921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.4794921875; --aspect-ratio-padding:208.553971487%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Chandi-Mangal-491x1024.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Chandi-Mangal-491x1024\" width=\"491\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Chandi-Mangal-491x1024.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Unknown Chitrakar, <em>Chandimangal Pata <\/em>(detail), Bengal Pata, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Chandi-Mangal-491x1024.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Unknown Chitrakar, <em>Chandimangal Pata <\\\/em>(detail), Bengal Pata, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The second section traces the evolution of Pattachitra as a result of the migration of Santhal Patuas to Kalighat from the mid-eighteenth through nineteenth centuries, driven by famine and the search for better economic opportunities. British occupation and the zamindar system also shaped the tradition that developed there. Kalighat painters condensed the scroll\u2019s sequential narratives into single panels centered on a figure or scene, an approach that notably recalls Eurocentric cataloguing of Indigenous bodies, suggesting internalized colonialism. In the earliest works from this period, artists drew on familiar Hindu iconography; later, divine figures became increasingly humanized, as in <em>Karthikeya<\/em>. Scandals of the time also became fodder: <em>Babu and Bibi<\/em> satirizes Western influence on newly rich gentlemen and their female companions,<em> <\/em>while <em>Murder and the Bazaar<\/em> portrays the 1873 Tarakeshwar scandal. By the 1930s, inexpensive mass-produced prints had largely displaced the Kalighat tradition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">On the glass wall opposite the Kalighat Pattachitra, Mrityu patas by Jadopatuas of Jharkhand hang morbidly, depicting dull, brown-tinged, washy images of deceased Santhals<em>\u2014<\/em>clad in white<em>\u2014<\/em>drawn on postcard-size paper canvases. Often described as \u201cmagical\u201d painters from the Santhal community, the Jadopatuas used a more muted palette and simpler compositions than the Bengal Patuas, addressing tribal life and death. Once, these Mrityu patas, or death paintings, performed the role of guiding the deceased to the afterlife. The Jadopatuas arrived with an image in the likeness of the deceased without eyes, and later, after ritual performances and offerings, eyes were added to denote the gaining of vision in the afterlife.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-portrait-large is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.66504065041; --aspect-ratio-y:0.6005859375; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.66504065041; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6005859375; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.6005859375; --aspect-ratio-padding:166.504065041%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/2021.124.15_RArt-615x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"2021.124.15_RArt-615x1024\" width=\"615\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/2021.124.15_RArt-615x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Unknown Kalighat Patua, <i>Untitled<\/i>, c. 1870, Kalighat Pata, Calcutta, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/2021.124.15_RArt-615x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Unknown Kalighat Patua, <i>Untitled<\\\/i>, c. 1870, Kalighat Pata, Calcutta, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The curators also rather dutifully include the twentieth-century modern artists Jamini Roy and Ramkinkar Baij in this section, asserting their influence in bringing wider audiences to the aesthetics of Pattachitra with their refusal to let Western influence dominate Indigenous styles. Baij fused Impressionist, Cubist, and Expressionist sensibilities with Indigenous subjects and is known for his paintings of rural life in Bengal and his sculptures of the Santhal community in Shantiniketan. Baij\u2019s <em>Mill Call <\/em>(c. 1946), the only work of his displayed, depicts the Santhal community and is positioned next to Roy\u2019s depiction of the same community in <em>A Santhal Couple <\/em>(c. 1934). On the opposing wall at the end of the long corridor hangs Roy\u2019s iconic <em>Untitled (S<\/em><em>eated Woman)<\/em>. Shownalongside the Kalighat paintings, Roy\u2019s bright colors, sweeping brushstrokes, and flattened figures reveal how much his signature style owed to this tradition and to Bengali folk motifs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">But the institutional attention generated by Baij and Roy did not always translate into equivalent recognition for other practitioners. Many scrolls still circulate without attribution, even in parts of this show, denied individual authorship. Their makers are absorbed into the generalized category of \u201cfolk art\u201d\u2014less a descriptive term than a mechanism of containment. While contemporary artists are granted biographies, catalogs, and intellectual ownership, folk artists are subsumed under the names of their communities, regions, or traditions, like \u201cMadhubani,\u201d \u201cWarli,\u201d or \u201cPattachitra.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.00490677134; --aspect-ratio-y:0.9951171875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.00490677134; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.9951171875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.9951171875; --aspect-ratio-padding:100.490677134%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/5_10-1019x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"5_10-1019x1024\" width=\"1019\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/5_10-1019x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Piku Chitrakar, <i>Jom Pata<\/i> (detail), late 20th century, Santhal Pata, Ramkanali, Purulia, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/5_10-1019x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Piku Chitrakar, <i>Jom Pata<\\\/i> (detail), late 20th century, Santhal Pata, Ramkanali, Purulia, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The curators of the show acknowledge that tracing provenance in folk art is a time-consuming and often fruitless process. Many folk artists consider their work part of a collective tradition rather than an expression of individual authorship, and thus leave their works unsigned, resulting in countless unrecorded makers. <em>Pata Dekhabo?<\/em> attempts to correct this long history of asymmetrical recognition. Artists such as Bapi and Tagar Chitrakar, who created wall murals for the exhibition, have been encouraged to sign their works, creating a visible record of their individual contributions. This gesture, however, exposes a deeper tension: The art world\u2019s obsession on individual attribution does not always align with the values of community-led arts, where knowledge, motifs, techniques, and visual vocabularies are inherited and collectively understood. The question, then, is not simply whether folk artists should be given individual authorship, but how institutions can acknowledge individual artistic agency without imposing the notions of ownership through which the art world has historically defined \u201cfine art.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In the third section of the exhibition, three arresting, oversize contemporary scrolls hang from the ceiling, two of them by artist Madhu Chitrakar. Chitrakar strikingly integrates global catastrophes into the visual grammar of the Bengali scroll with <em>9\/11 Attack <\/em>(c. 2001). In this work, the narrative opens with an imagined camaraderie between George W. Bush and Osama bin Laden that gradually curdles into betrayal. Flames rise, an aircraft pierces the skyline, its nose morphing into bin Laden\u2019s likeness, and a final panel arranges victims, predominantly women, on the left, and perpetrators\u2014dressed in stereotypical white desert clothing and skullcaps and possessed of thick, dark facial hair\u2014on the right, to juxtapose good and evil.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Her <em>Tsunami <\/em>(c. 2004) is even more persuasive. A monumental blue deity of catastrophe crowns the scroll\u2014red tongue protruding, eyes brimming\u2014while serpentine waves coil downward through drowning cars, buildings, a yellow airplane, and finally a seabed littered with bodies and debris. At the base are journalists with cameras and excavators clearing wreckage.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.4524822695; --aspect-ratio-y:0.6884765625; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.4524822695; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6884765625; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.6884765625; --aspect-ratio-padding:145.24822695%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/4_2-1-705x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"4_2-1-705x1024\" width=\"705\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/4_2-1-705x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Unknown Jadu Patua, <em>Jonom Pata or Birth Scroll<\/em> (detail), late 20th century, Santhal Pata. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/4_2-1-705x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Unknown Jadu Patua, <em>Jonom Pata or Birth Scroll<\\\/em> (detail), late 20th century, Santhal Pata. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The third work is <em>Communal Riot<\/em>, of unknown authorship. Here, the trajectory of a communal riot takes the limelight. Depicted in muted colors, with simplified two-dimensional figures set against a simple white background, it is a deviation from the vivid and dense style of Pattachitra. Yet the motifs and flattened perspective remain recognizable. The first four panels capture the mutual acts of violence and carnage committed by opposing factions. The fifth shows the displacement of those affected, and subsequent panels depict the intervention of authorities, with the perpetrators being arrested. In the final register, figures bearing placards advocate peace over destruction and unity over division. Here, the panel resembles poster art, calling for peace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">These new works are argumentative, adaptive, and politically alert. Rather than custodians of an inherited form, their artists become authors whose choices, experiments, and interventions actively shape what Pattachitra can become. In this way, these hereditary artists who survived collapse of old patronage systems, indifference of modern economies, and seductions of markets\u2014which prefer heritage neatly framed and safely dead\u2014refuse to be embalmed.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-portrait-large is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:3.72363636364; --aspect-ratio-y:0.2685546875; --aspect-ratio-cover:3.72363636364; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.2685546875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.2685546875; --aspect-ratio-padding:372.363636364%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Tsunami-275x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Tsunami-275x1024\" width=\"275\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Tsunami-275x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Madhu Chitrakar, <em>Tsunami,<\/em> c. 2004, Bengal Pata, Naya, Pingla, Medinipur, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Tsunami-275x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Madhu Chitrakar, <em>Tsunami,<\\\/em> c. 2004, Bengal Pata, Naya, Pingla, Medinipur, West Bengal, India. Collection: Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, digital reproduction.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The visual grammar of Pattachitra\u2014flattened perspectives, intricate line work, densely populated narrative scenes, and vivid chromatic contrast\u2014remains recognizable. But the works address present realities, demonstrating how historical forms can become tools for thinking through contemporary cultural and political conditions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The final section portrays Kalighat painting following its revival, beginning in 1987 with Kalam Patua, a postmaster who taught himself the art form by visiting archives and museums before sharing his knowledge with other artists. Depictions of political rallies (<em>A Campaign by Mamta Banerjee<\/em>, c. 2018, by Moyna and Joydeb Chitrakar), gallery shows (<em>Group Show<\/em>, c. 2012, by Kalam Patua), and cellphone photographers (<em>Studio at Home<\/em>, c. 2012, also by Kalam Patua) line the walls, familiar scenes of everyday life in the present.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The exhibition transforms Pattachitra from an object for preservation into a site of ongoing artistic production, suggesting that practitioners do not merely inherit the tradition but write its future. <em>Pata Dekhabo?<\/em> argues for a different understanding of contemporaneity that need not emerge from the genealogies of modernism. The show suggests that a form rooted in devotional and community-based conventions can generate its own contemporary trajectories. Tradition is not sealed into a vitrine. It must be continually unfolded, panel by panel, sung aloud, argued with, and stained by the weather of its own time and times to come.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>For much of its institutional life, folk art has occupied an uneasy position. Celebrated as a repository of heritage, it has often been denied the status of contemporary practice. Pata Dekhabo? (Shall I Show You a Pata?) at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, in Delhi, challenges that relegation, presenting Pattachitra\u2014one of the oldest art [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24882,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[18325,21033],"class_list":["post-24875","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews","tag-kiran-nadar-museum-of-art","tag-pattachitra"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24875","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24875"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24875\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24901,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24875\/revisions\/24901"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24882"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24875"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24875"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24875"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24863,"date":"2026-09-17T14:08:55","date_gmt":"2026-09-17T18:08:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24863"},"modified":"2026-09-17T14:08:57","modified_gmt":"2026-09-17T18:08:57","slug":"hypnotic-strategies-upended-hierarchies-keerat-kaur-at-the-montreal-museum-of-fine-arts","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/09\/17\/hypnotic-strategies-upended-hierarchies-keerat-kaur-at-the-montreal-museum-of-fine-arts\/","title":{"rendered":"Hypnotic Strategies, Upended Hierarchies: Keerat Kaur at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">When I arrived at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (MMFA) to see contemporary Canadian artist Keerat Kaur\u2019s exhibition <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mbam.qc.ca\/en\/exhibitions\/keerat-kaur\/\"><em>Sweet Speech<\/em><\/a>, I mistakenly went to the second floor, home to the museum\u2019s contemporary art galleries. The show was instead on the fourth floor, installed among one of North America\u2019s largest collections of Sikh art. My wrong turn was telling: I\u2019d assumed the very division between the contemporary and historical that curator Laura Vigo was upending by situating Kaur\u2019s work in this wing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Recently renamed <em>The Arts of One World<\/em>, after \u00c9douard Glissant, these galleries\u2014which combine historic art from Africa, Asia, Oceania, the Middle East, the Mediterranean, and the Americas\u2014were substantially expanded by the Kapany family\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mbam.qc.ca\/en\/news\/sikh-art-collection\/\">2022 donation<\/a> of Sikh artworks. Vigo, the MMFA\u2019s curator of Asian arts and archaeology, has advocated for bringing contemporary artists into this space. In 2024, she began working with Kaur, an artist of Sikh-Panjabi heritage, on what would become <em>Sweet Speech<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0007-1024x683.png\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"KAU_0007-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0007-1024x683.png?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Keerat Kaur, <em>God\u0101var\u012b-Satluj<\/em>, 2024. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/KAU_0007-1024x683.png\",\n    \"caption\": \"Keerat Kaur, <em>God\u0101var\u012b-Satluj<\\\/em>, 2024. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The solo exhibition, Kaur\u2019s first at a Canadian fine arts institution, features sculpture and paintings in gouache, acrylic, and oil, with most draped across the walls of the fourth-floor galleries alongside Sikh artworks from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The show\u2019s title is Kaur\u2019s translation of the Sikh tenet of Mith\u012b Bol\u012b, described in an introductory wall label as \u201cbeing shaped by humility, love and truth,\u201d and, as the label also specifies, Kaur\u2019s art draws on her upbringing in the gurdwara. But beyond the obvious connections between Kaur\u2019s identity and the Kapany Collection\u2019s dedication to Sikh arts, the artist\u2019s works defy the rigid categories and linearity that often characterize Asian art shows and collections at Western museums, channeling her own, dreamlike interpretations of the divine and the mythological, all while dis\/orienting the audience through hypnotic, immersive strategies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">One of the first works in the exhibition is a quadriptych of gouache paintings titled <em>N\u012bl\u0101\u2019s Birth Story<\/em>. The works, vibrant and ethereal, depict the imagined birth story of Sikh Guru Gobind Singh\u2019s blue horse, N\u012bl\u0101, along with N\u012bl\u0101\u2019s friendship with a white hawk named B\u0101z. N\u012bl\u00e3 travels through air, water, and land before curling around the moon, which B\u0101z has just fetched for her. She goes to sleep surrounded by foliage with the hawk on her back. Kaur studies traditional Pahari painting, and the bright palette, the narrative approach, and her treatment of N\u012bl\u0101\u2014clean-lined, luminous, and caught in lyrical motion\u2014extend the visual language of the historical gouaches into the present.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-square is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1; --aspect-ratio-y:1; --aspect-ratio-cover:1; --aspect-ratio-contain:1; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:100%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0005_REC-1024x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"KAU_0005_REC-1024x1024\" width=\"1024\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0005_REC-1024x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Keerat Kaur, <em>N\u012bl\u0101\u2019s Janams\u0101kh\u012b<\/em>, 2024. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/KAU_0005_REC-1024x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Keerat Kaur, <em>N\u012bl\u0101\u2019s Janams\u0101kh\u012b<\\\/em>, 2024. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Directly across from the quadriptych, installed in a vitrine, are two Sikh knives, nineteenth-century objects from the Kapany donation, cleverly placed so that they feel almost part of Kaur\u2019s work. <em>N\u012bl\u0101\u2019s Birth Story<\/em> is spiritual, inviting the viewer close to the artist\u2019s relationship to her faith. The knives, religious artifacts that could have easily appeared in one of Kaur\u2019s paintings, underscore the extent to which her art and these objects belong to a living material history.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Kaur also authored the wall texts accompanying each work, giving her interpretive voice an unusual prominence within one of Canada\u2019s most traditional institutions. Writing about <em>Origin Story <\/em>(2020), among the exhibition\u2019s largest works, she explains that the painting \u201ccontributes another layer to an inherited symbolic language, rather than inventing a new one.\u201d The acrylic self-portrait literalizes this claim: Kaur emerges from a pomegranate at the top of the canvas, her face turned downward and one hand reaching out into the world. Around her, large roses and thornless green leaves fill an expansive ethereal landscape while an oversize seashell floats in the foreground. Its saturated color, natural setting, and poetic compression place the work in visual conversation with the richly illustrated <em>Janamsakhis<\/em> folios nearby, without collapsing the distance between them. Kaur inhabits an inherited symbolic field and stretches it to accommodate her own arrival.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.30779054917; --aspect-ratio-y:0.7646484375; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.30779054917; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7646484375; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.7646484375; --aspect-ratio-padding:130.779054917%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0001-783x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"KAU_0001-783x1024\" width=\"783\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/KAU_0001-783x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Keerat Kaur, <em>Sweet Speech<\/em>, 2025. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/KAU_0001-783x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Keerat Kaur, <em>Sweet Speech<\\\/em>, 2025. Courtesy of the artist. \u00a9 Keerat Kaur Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">A recording of Kaur\u2019s own singing in Punjabi plays throughout the galleries. The hypnotic melody links one work to the next. Further into the exhibit is <em>Heart Cleanse<\/em>, a 2020 ceramic sculpture of a large red and blue heart with beaded veins and arteries spilling out of the valves into a splay of organic tendrils. Delicate patterns cover the organ\u2014flowers, beads, creatures\u2014and a large open eye looks out from one side. The presence of the eye turns the heart into something conscious and watchful: an organ steeped in inherited knowledge, yet acutely perceptive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Shortly before I visited <em>Sweet Speech<\/em>, anti-Sikh unrest <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/politics\/2026\/jun\/17\/sikhs-uk-reconsider-reform-support-after-nowak-comments\">erupted<\/a> in my home, the United Kingdom, amid increasing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.worldsikh.org\/understanding_addressing_anti_sikh_hate_in_canada\">anti-Sikh racism<\/a> across Canada. At the same time, twentieth-century South Asian works were becoming <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theartnewspaper.com\/2026\/06\/15\/tea-companys-south-asian-collection-soars-at-christies-london\">increasingly lucrative<\/a> on the art market. This conjunction\u2014living communities exposed to racist violence while historical artworks circulate as increasingly valuable assets\u2014sharpens the stakes of Kaur\u2019s placement within the museum. Western art institutions can profit from Sikh art while leaving intact Orientalist hierarchies that privilege colonial-era work over contemporary practices. Installed among the MMFA\u2019s historical Sikh holdings, <em>Sweet Speech<\/em> disrupts that chronology. The exhibition presents Sikh art as a living and evolving practice: inherited and inhabited by Kaur, whose gestures are playful, immersive, and personal, bending time and space, and inviting us to trade rigidity for expansiveness.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When I arrived at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (MMFA) to see contemporary Canadian artist Keerat Kaur\u2019s exhibition Sweet Speech, I mistakenly went to the second floor, home to the museum\u2019s contemporary art galleries. The show was instead on the fourth floor, installed among one of North America\u2019s largest collections of Sikh art. My [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24865,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[21032,21030,21031,14353],"class_list":["post-24863","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews","tag-kapany-collection","tag-keerat-kaur","tag-laura-vigo","tag-montreal-museum-of-fine-arts"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24863","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24863"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24863\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24871,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24863\/revisions\/24871"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24865"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24863"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24863"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24863"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24827,"date":"2026-09-10T14:58:31","date_gmt":"2026-09-10T18:58:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24827"},"modified":"2026-09-11T12:05:12","modified_gmt":"2026-09-11T16:05:12","slug":"imagining-otherwise-robert-blackburn-and-the-art-of-the-printmaking-workshop","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/09\/10\/imagining-otherwise-robert-blackburn-and-the-art-of-the-printmaking-workshop\/","title":{"rendered":"Imagining Otherwise: Robert Blackburn and the Art of the Printshop"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">I remember standing within the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop\u2014the New York City atmosphere that the artist brought to life with his peers, holding items from the printshop\u2019s archive of bootleg cassette tapes; class flyers from the 1970s; letters of appreciation addressed to Blackburn; and gelatin photographs of now-famous artists such as Vivian Browne, Ed Clark, and Mavis Pusey pondering over artwork. Between the prints and ephemera, I saw the artists within the printshop\u2019s history\u2014from then to now\u2014emerge as stars within a broader constellation defined by Blackburn\u2019s prismatic, boundary-pushing approach to artmaking. I\u2019d been asked to curate the traveling exhibition that became <em>Press &amp; Pull: Two Decades at the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop<\/em>, opening next at <a href=\"https:\/\/gallery400.uic.edu\/exhibition\/pressandpull\/\" data-type=\"link\" data-id=\"https:\/\/gallery400.uic.edu\/exhibition\/pressandpull\/\">Gallery 400 at the University of Illinois Chicago<\/a>, and already this broad index of prints was etching itself into my memory and reshaping my vantage point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Never in a million years did I expect printmaking to change my way of seeing. Beyond the few prints I revered for their historical significance in modern and contemporary art history (Francisco Goya\u2019s etchings, Elizabeth Catlett\u2019s linocuts, and David Hammons\u2019s body prints\u2014artworks on paper that move histories of terror, resilience, and experimentation into focus), I didn\u2019t think much about printmaking. But my encounter with the Blackburn workshop, a space inseparable from the legacy of its founder, left me reconsidering the medium through the political shifts and social bonds that define its aesthetic force. As a pioneer of lithography in the United States, Robert Blackburn arguably carved out a pathway for the Pop Art Movement to flourish. He imagined his printshop as a reincarnation of <a href=\"https:\/\/vimeo.com\/1064067600\">the spaces that made his creative life possible<\/a>, offering his community of devoted artists and budding practitioners an ecosystem where magnetic encounters of knowledge exchange and cooperation are evident on paper.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.75; --aspect-ratio-y:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.75; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:75%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Scatter-Wall_PP-1024x768.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Scatter-Wall_PP-1024x768\" width=\"1024\" height=\"768\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Scatter-Wall_PP-1024x768.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Archival materials from the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop. Photo by Shameekia Shantel Johnson.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Scatter-Wall_PP-1024x768.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Archival materials from the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop. Photo by Shameekia Shantel Johnson.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Since 2005, the Elizabeth Foundation of the Arts (EFA) has managed operations of the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop, continuing Blackburn\u2019s desire to make printmaking accessible while sustaining a community-centric ethos he spent decades cultivating at the expense of his own time and creative practice. It was Jazmine Catas\u00fas, the printshop\u2019s artistic director and master printer, and Essye Klempner, the director of programs and partnerships, who first sought to organize an exhibition honoring Blackburn\u2019s impact on global contemporary art, tracing the artistic and political vision that connected the generations of artists who have passed through the printshop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In 2024, I met Catas\u00fas at the Cue Foundation\u2019s opening reception of Keli Safia Maksud\u2019s <em>Worried Notes <\/em>in Manhattan. She\u2019d offered me a tour of the printshop, which I gladly followed up on. There, I first eyed fragments of the archive, including intaglio prints by the grande dame Faith Ringgold\u2014the same day she joined the cosmos. The tour was the beginning. Later that year, I reviewed Elizabeth Catlett\u2019s retrospective at the Brooklyn Museum for <em>Art in America<\/em>, in an essay that compelled Catas\u00fas and Klempner to invite me to curate the exhibition about Blackburn. And in our initial conversations about <em>Press &amp; Pull<\/em>, the three of us were passionate about anchoring the Workshop\u2019s past twenty years of impact within Blackburn\u2019s guiding principles of creative excellence. To Blackburn, nothing was more important than collaboration and determination. He famously stated, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=3feBAF_O6k4\">\u201cNo one is whole unto himself; he shares with other people<\/a>.\u201d However, he also <a href=\"https:\/\/vimeo.com\/1064071296\/ec412ff0cf\">commanded that people meet their work with divine seriousness.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Born in Summit, New Jersey, in 1920 to Jamaican immigrant parents, Blackburn became Harlem\u2019s adoptive child following his family\u2019s relocation to the neighborhood in 1927. There, the Harlem Renaissance was in full swing, and his early years were shaped by an atmosphere made sticky by the spiritual happenings and life attitudes shared among artists, poets, musicians, and philosophers\u2014all embracing a new science of self-expression that celebrated Black folk vernaculars and their evolving adaptations. Though the Harlem Renaissance gave him a strong foundation, Blackburn truly came of age during the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.britannica.com\/topic\/Works-Progress-Administration\">Works Progress Administration era<\/a>. He was the beneficiary of social clubs and government-funded community programs, and spent his teen years joining Charles Alston\u2019s Studio 306 salon and studying with the likes of Augusta Savage at the Uptown Arts Laboratory, where he befriended contemporaries Jacob Lawrence and Ronald Joseph. In 1938, near the end of the Great Depression, Blackburn studied lithography with Riva Helfond, producing lithographs such as <a href=\"http:\/\/www.robertblackburn.org\/works-1930s.html\"><em>Refugees (aka People in a Boat)<\/em><\/a> (1938), a monochromatic print of five Black people sailing onward.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape is-small is-small-width has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.762752075919; --aspect-ratio-y:1.31104199067; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.31104199067; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.762752075919; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:76.2752075919%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Ron-Adams-Blackburn-2002.-Courtesy-DePaul-Art-Museum.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Ron-Adams-Blackburn-2002.-Courtesy-DePaul-Art-Museum\" width=\"843\" height=\"643\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Ron-Adams-Blackburn-2002.-Courtesy-DePaul-Art-Museum.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Ron Adams, <em>Blackburn<\/em>, 2002. Courtesy DePaul Art Museum.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Ron-Adams-Blackburn-2002.-Courtesy-DePaul-Art-Museum.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Ron Adams, <em>Blackburn<\\\/em>, 2002. Courtesy DePaul Art Museum.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">After high school, Blackburn attended the Art Students League (1940\u20131943) to learn color lithography from Will Barnet. Blackburn\u2019s precision and work ethic were so impressive that any hierarchy between teacher and student soon dissolved into friendship. Around this time, Blackburn was transitioning from a style rooted in Mexican modernism toward a more expansive visual worldview shaped by the layered environments that formed him: Harlem\u2019s cultural dynamism during and after the Renaissance, the visual language of the Global South and European modernism, and the shifts in popular music lead by Black consciousness. His formative years were a microcosm of the cultural movements, leftist ideologies, and artistic expressions shaping his and his peers\u2019 decentralized art practices; they believed art could elevate the political imagination. These same practices ultimately informed the Workshop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">As I read archival news clippings and heard <a href=\"https:\/\/hauserwirthinstitute.org\/projects\/efa-robert-blackburn-oral-histories\/\">oral history testimonials<\/a>, what stood out to me most about Blackburn was the scope of his generosity. The flux of creative programs Blackburn experienced throughout his adolescence instilled in him a deep gratitude for both the medium of printmakers and the educators who refined his practice. He\u2019d made his own path, through apprenticeships, salons, and friendships, since higher education wasn\u2019t financially possible for him. And at the tender age of twenty-seven, Blackburn saved enough money from working odd jobs to purchase a lithography press. In 1947, he founded the printshop, converting his Chelsea loft into a workspace that offered studio time and a broad range of printmaking classes to artists in his community. Some of the Workshop\u2019s earliest participants included artist-peers and dear friends like Romare Bearden, Betty Blayton, Camille Billops, Elizabeth Catlett, and Charles White. During a time of intense racial segregation, Blackburn went against the status quo to welcome people and ideas from around the globe, establishing a third space where folks could gather, refine their craft, and support one another. The practice of artists like <a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/collection\/works\/65232\">Bearden<\/a>, Blayton, and <a href=\"https:\/\/issuu.com\/rlgallery\/docs\/catalogue_sent_to_mary_2\">Billops<\/a> were changed by their time in the printshop. Bearden\u2019s bluesy, expressionist style became ubiquitous within the cultural zeitgeist because prints like <a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/collection\/works\/447094\"><em>The Baptism<\/em><\/a> (1972) could circulate widely. <a href=\"https:\/\/ryanleegallery.com\/artists\/camille-billops\/\">Billops\u2019s prints synthesized transformative ideas around Black identity, gender, and cultural hybridity<\/a> that later emerged in her filmmaking practice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">White and Catlett met Blackburn at the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/slideshows\/341\/3892\">Arts Students League<\/a> upon their <a href=\"https:\/\/www.nga.gov\/stories\/articles\/who-elizabeth-catlett-12-things-know\">arrival in New York in 1942<\/a>. Though after the 1930s, Blackburn\u2019s artworks had veered away from the social-realist perspective that, along with radical visions that drove White\u2019s and Catlett\u2019s practices throughout their lifetimes, their artwork still had some striking resonances. Blackburn\u2019s prints of Black mothers, such as <a href=\"http:\/\/www.robertblackburn.org\/works-1940s.html\"><em>Negro Mother<\/em><\/a><em> <\/em>(1944) and <a href=\"http:\/\/www.robertblackburn.org\/works-1940s.html\"><em>Black Madonna<\/em><\/a><em> <\/em>(1947), honor Black female subjectivity and mirror Catlett\u2019s feminist purview. But Blackburn consistently made space for artists regardless of whether they shared his sentiments or aesthetic tendencies, including women like Mavis Pusey, Emma Amos, Dindga McCannon, Kay Brown, and Mary Lovelace O\u2019Neal, to produce and exhibit their work. The Workshop, being a place for all, was built up little by little by everyone. Black artists were invited to experiment, women had a reliable space to perfect their skills, and immigrants without means were offered a place to print and work. Most important, artists became educators for adults and children alike, bridging the gap between institutions and resources that have kept many disenfranchised. By design, the Workshop became an intergenerational environment for education, mentorship, and collaboration, empowering artists both new and well-versed in the genre.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-square is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1; --aspect-ratio-y:1; --aspect-ratio-cover:1; --aspect-ratio-contain:1; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:100%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Elizabeth-Catlett-Lovey-Twice-1976.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Elizabeth-Catlett-Lovey-Twice-1976.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x1024\" width=\"1024\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Elizabeth-Catlett-Lovey-Twice-1976.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Elizabeth Catlett, <em>Twice Lovely<\/em>, 1976. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Elizabeth-Catlett-Lovey-Twice-1976.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Elizabeth Catlett, <em>Twice Lovely<\\\/em>, 1976. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.7998046875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.25030525031; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.25030525031; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7998046875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:79.98046875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bearden_Romare-The-Family-1975.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x819.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Bearden_Romare-The-Family-1975.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x819\" width=\"1024\" height=\"819\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bearden_Romare-The-Family-1975.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x819.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Romare Bearden, <em>The Family<\/em>, 1975. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Bearden_Romare-The-Family-1975.-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x819.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Romare Bearden, <em>The Family<\\\/em>, 1975. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Outside of the printshop, Blackburn was known for his editioning work for contemporary artists at Universal Limited Art Editions (ULAE) between 1957 and 1963. Tatyana Grosman founded the ULAE in West Islip, Long Island, in 1957, immediately hiring Blackburn to help artists such as Helen Frankenthaler, Grace Hartigan, Jasper Johns, and Robert Motherwell produce prints (<a href=\"https:\/\/www.ulae.com\/history\/\">though in public documents on ULAE\u2019s history, Robert Blackburn isn\u2019t recognized for his instrumental contributions to the organization<\/a>). While he was printing for Robert Rauschenberg one day, Blackburn accidentally cracked the lithostone\u2014an unfortunate incident that became a legendary visual disruption. The negative space left by the broken stone became Rauschenberg\u2019s <a href=\"https:\/\/www.metmuseum.org\/art\/collection\/search\/373803\"><em>Accident<\/em><\/a> (1963), a piece that celebrates random encounters as evidence of a pure creative spirit. Though Blackburn\u2019s mistake initially made him sick with grief, he came around once he began to intentionally break off the stone in his own prints. For <em>Untitled (Broken Stone) <\/em>(c. 1960s\u20131971), the nearly blacked-out register bounces between tonal washes and amorphous shapes that prophesied the stone breaking on the edge. What\u2019s prolific about his way of seeing was how he made the stone the artwork itself, using the printmaking apparatus as a framework for abstraction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">We drew from this web of relations among the archives, the artworks, and the Workshop\u2019s history when forming the exhibition floor plan. The selection of prints from the last two decades of the Workshop, the years since it became an extension of the EFA, traces the evolution of the graphics boom Blackburn helped pioneer at ULAE into our present. Suddenly, the tusche residue of Blackburn\u2019s <em>Broken Stone <\/em>became the connective tissue between the gelatin odalisque of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/collection\/works\/420321\">Billops\u2019s<\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/collection\/works\/420321\"><em> I am Black, I am Black, I am Dangerously Black<\/em><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/www.moma.org\/collection\/works\/420321\"> <\/a>(1973) and the fragmented frames of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.rbpmw-efanyc.org\/nontsikelelo-mutiti\">Nontsikelelo Mutiti\u2019s <\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rbpmw-efanyc.org\/nontsikelelo-mutiti\"><em>autobiography of my mother<\/em><\/a><a href=\"https:\/\/www.rbpmw-efanyc.org\/nontsikelelo-mutiti\"> <\/a>(2024) (the latter printed by Catas\u00fas). Billops\u2019s black-ink-and-white etching of a reclining nude goddess recalls the look of Hellenistic vases. Created during the Black Power era, her print emboldens the female erotic as the lifeblood fueling Black freedom dreams. Mutiti\u2019s photolithograph echoes a different sentiment of Black femininity rooted in care and recovery. Sharing a title with Jamaica Kincaid\u2019s third novel, the triptych features two illusory frames made of bobby pins, becoming a skeletal outline for a photograph without actually presenting one. We\u2019re introduced to a photograph only in the final print, where the labeled caption and dates are made visible to all. Mutiti thus skillfully repurposes the conceptual nodes of photography to author an image of her mother that also redacts her physicality.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.751953125; --aspect-ratio-y:1.32987012987; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.32987012987; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.751953125; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:75.1953125%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Camille-Billops-I-am-Black-I-am-Black-I-am-Dangerously-Black-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x770.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Camille-Billops-I-am-Black-I-am-Black-I-am-Dangerously-Black-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x770\" width=\"1024\" height=\"770\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Camille-Billops-I-am-Black-I-am-Black-I-am-Dangerously-Black-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x770.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Camille Billops, <em>I am Black, I am Black, I am Dangerously Black<\/em>, 1973. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Camille-Billops-I-am-Black-I-am-Black-I-am-Dangerously-Black-Courtesy-the-Robert-Blackburn-Printmaking-Workshop-1024x770.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Camille Billops, <em>I am Black, I am Black, I am Dangerously Black<\\\/em>, 1973. Courtesy the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">I was also enamored of Charles White\u2019s 1949 lithograph <em>John Brown<\/em> (printed by Blackburn) and its abundant connections to Lizania Cruz\u2019s lithograph and chine-coll\u00e9 piece<em> Evidence 071: Frederick Douglass and the Commission of Inquiry<\/em> (2023) (printed by John Andrews). White\u2019s bust is a tribute to an abolitionist lynched in 1859, and Cruz\u2019s print is an investigation of Douglass as a proxy for the U.S. government during a trip to Santo Domingo, in the Dominican Republic. White believed that art should be used as propaganda to support liberation movements; thus, the artwork marks the historical significance of Brown\u2019s fight for Black Americans\u2019 freedom and helps circulate narratives that can vanish under authoritarian regimes. Similarly, Cruz underscores how printmaking has been used to dehumanize Black and Brown people\u2014especially before the advent of television; however, she interrogates the way Douglass has played into U.S. imperialism. Though separated by decades, each artist and master printer mobilized print as a political and aesthetic technology, one that can advance abolitionist discourse while exposing how people, text, and media shape historical memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Today, the printshop is located on 323 West 39th Street, in the heart of Midtown, Manhattan, but from the inside, you can hardly tell. The city\u2019s blaring alarms, incessant chatter, and underground rumblings\u2014akin to the ecstatic dissonance of Ornette Coleman\u2019s <em>Free Jazz<\/em>\u2014give way to the ambient sounds of thick ink rolling across plexiglass, levigators smoothing out limestone, and paper submerged underwater. There\u2019s quite a musicality to the printshop and the pure tones emanating from printmakers in real time: metal clanking amid manual labor, voices undulating with intimacy, heavenly gasps at the sight of a miraculous pull. Printmakers sounding off their self-expression. Blackburn\u2019s prints\u2014hung in an archive room, or its reproductions nestled throughout the workspace\u2014themselves seem to operate with a similar improvisational energy: layered, rhythmic, and abstract. Photographs of Blackburn caught mid-roll, press, and pull surround each print station, generating moments where the past and present reality converge into a continuum, radiating the action of imagining otherwise: leveraging a collective power to define what\u2019s possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>The author extends a heartfelt appreciation to art historian Ethel Reina for her support with the exhibition text for <\/em>Press &amp; Pull<em>.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I remember standing within the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop\u2014the New York City atmosphere that the artist brought to life with his peers, holding items from the printshop\u2019s archive of bootleg cassette tapes; class flyers from the 1970s; letters of appreciation addressed to Blackburn; and gelatin photographs of now-famous artists such as Vivian Browne, Ed Clark, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24834,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13841],"tags":[16212,20474,21029,17049,21028],"class_list":["post-24827","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-features","tag-charles-white","tag-elizabeth-catlett","tag-robert-blackburn","tag-romare-bearden","tag-shameekia-shantel-johnson"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24827","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24827"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24827\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24862,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24827\/revisions\/24862"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24834"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24827"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24827"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24827"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24809,"date":"2026-09-03T11:26:40","date_gmt":"2026-09-03T15:26:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24809"},"modified":"2026-09-03T11:26:43","modified_gmt":"2026-09-03T15:26:43","slug":"frictional-fantasies-shannon-bool-at-daniel-faria-gallery","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/09\/03\/frictional-fantasies-shannon-bool-at-daniel-faria-gallery\/","title":{"rendered":"Frictional Fantasies: Shannon Bool at Daniel Faria Gallery"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\">\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u201cThere is always a danger that the relative freedom of art can render it meaningless. Yet it is this same freedom which allows art, and art alone, to express and preserve the profoundest expectations of a period.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u2014<a href=\"https:\/\/www.versobooks.com\/products\/3291-art-and-revolution?srsltid=AfmBOooF5GC-kGK9qPwghlabm4MXD1u2VL-i5jTVctOkHzwtBvB3s1hn\"><em>Art and Revolution<\/em><\/a>, John Berger (1969)<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">To move in on a piece of Shannon Bool\u2019s\u2014a textile, a collage\u2014is to feel it shift on you. An image becomes something you\u2019re entering, like an animal drawing you into the bush. Grids dance, silver veins begin to run, mirrors liquify and sluice to the front of what they used to background. Bool incorporates found print and digital images alongside craft elements like jacquard weaving and ceramics, and the suggestion of movement is everywhere it shouldn\u2019t be\u2014in buildings, mannequins, hardened wax. Systems of control\u2014architecture, grids, pixels, weaving\u2014get contaminated, or that would be the word if it wasn\u2019t all so infused with glamour.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.40056022409; --aspect-ratio-y:0.714; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.40056022409; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.714; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.714; --aspect-ratio-padding:140.056022409%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_Venus_2026_04.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Bool_Venus_2026_04\" width=\"714\" height=\"1000\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_Venus_2026_04.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Shannon Bool, <em>Venus <\/em>(detail), 2026. Photography by LF Documentation.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Bool_Venus_2026_04.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Shannon Bool, <em>Venus <\\\/em>(detail), 2026. Photography by LF Documentation.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Systems are typically made to avoid friction, but Bool\u2019s systems seem to invite a misbehaving instead: a slippage that beckons, even if it\u2019s suffused with an aspect of distrust. In <a href=\"https:\/\/danielfariagallery.com\/exhibitions\/shannon-bool-the-wave\"><em>The Wave<\/em><\/a>, her recent (and sixth) solo exhibition at Daniel Faria Gallery in Toronto, Bool rushed together the influences of technological fantasy, military machinery, and neoclassical female nudes to stage a forceful yet stealth encounter with the idealized forms we keep perusing or being issued. Bool stepped inside inherited aesthetic and mechanical forms as though testing out their boundaries, pressing against their outlines, asking: What happens when a structure designed to organize the world becomes susceptible to everything it was designed to exclude?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The female ideals of the Odalisque, Venus, and Piet\u00e0 held the exhibition\u2019s center, featured in large unframed, grayscale tapestries. Walking up to them feels like walking toward sculpture: You do it hesitantly, and in awe. Their iconic status and imposing presence become entangled with another projected female body, the compliant technological companion. Across the weavings and silk paintings, female and machinelike forms surface within layered scaffolding and corridors, their contours at times bleeding into the structures that contain them. This is all within Bool\u2019s bag: taking images through which societies picture their ideals and messing with their transmission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The show\u2019s title, <em>The Wave<\/em>, has a darker provenance: It translates from <em>Die Woge<\/em>, Fritz Klimsch\u2019s 1936 sculpture of a reclining female nude. Klimsch, like his contemporary Georg Kolbe, never joined the Nazi Party, though both artists found favor under national socialism, which saw in their romanticized female figures a useful image of the body. Bool\u2019s wave, then, carries some troubling historical undertow: A vision of femininity shaped nearly a century ago resurfaces inside our fantasies of the technological future. Why\u2014she seems to ask, needling at our limited imagination\u2014does the \u201cfuture\u201d keep reproducing the same bodies?<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:71.38671875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_DieWoge_2026_05-1024x731.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Bool_DieWoge_2026_05-1024x731\" width=\"1024\" height=\"731\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_DieWoge_2026_05-1024x731.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Shannon Bool, <em>Die Woge<\/em> (detail), 2026. Photograph by LF Documentation.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Bool_DieWoge_2026_05-1024x731.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Shannon Bool, <em>Die Woge<\\\/em> (detail), 2026. Photograph by LF Documentation.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">A wave is not merely a repetition, but energy carried and transmogrified across time. Bool\u2019s images travel accordingly. The bodily and structural forms associated with modernist figureheads like Adolf Loos, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and Le Corbusier keep surfacing in her work, becoming entangled with more contemporary signals\u2014corporate architecture, say, or a snatch of misinterpreted <a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2018\/12\/21\/shannon-bool-traces-the-women-of-algiers\/\">celebrity culture<\/a>. Even the exquisite precision of her jacquard tapestries seems to account for the disturbances of digital rendering: pixelation, dust, glitches, and residues registered like the coordinates of an ancient pattern.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">That instability is material, too. An ongoing series of small, abstract ceramics line a corner of <em>The Wave<\/em>. Deceptively simple, seemingly timeless, these tiles are in fact translated from digitally generated images. Individually glazed and fired ceramic \u201cpixels\u201d feature lines that bend and pool, skewer and shimmer, turning geometry into something more bodily. Bearing an unexpectedly monumental origin\u2014they developed out of Bool\u2019s work on an upcoming permanent installation for the Opera House in Cologne, Germany, where she also currently has a solo exhibition at Kunst-Station Sankt Peter\u2014the ceramics make the digital image vulnerable to the contingencies of material transformation, exposing its fantasy of frictionless precision to the ancient technology of heat and glaze.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:71.38671875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_TheWave_2026_13-1024x731.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Bool_TheWave_2026_13-1024x731\" width=\"1024\" height=\"731\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_TheWave_2026_13-1024x731.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Installation view of <em>Shannon Bool:<\/em> <em>The Wave<\/em> at Daniel Faria Gallery, 2026. Photograph by LF Documentation.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Bool_TheWave_2026_13-1024x731.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Installation view of <em>Shannon Bool:<\\\/em> <em>The Wave<\\\/em> at Daniel Faria Gallery, 2026. Photograph by LF Documentation.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-y:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.40082079343; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.7138671875; --aspect-ratio-padding:140.082079343%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_StudySupport_2026_01-731x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Bool_StudySupport_2026_01-731x1024\" width=\"731\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/Bool_StudySupport_2026_01-731x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Shannon Bool, <em>A Study in Support<\/em>, 2026. Photography by LF Documentation.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/09\\\/Bool_StudySupport_2026_01-731x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Shannon Bool, <em>A Study in Support<\\\/em>, 2026. Photography by LF Documentation.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The silk paintings make this destabilizing impulse especially literal, though not always more convincing. Bool begins with photographs of modernist and fascist architecture in Italy, overlaying their facades with her own scanned drawings before transferring the resulting patterns, through wax resist, dyes, oils, and inks, onto chiffon silk stretched over a mirror. In a work like <em>A Study in Support<\/em> (2026), grids double and slip in reflection, admitting the room\u2014and our bodies\u2014into their surfaces. Yet for all this movement, the paintings can feel strangely unresolved. Their scale is neither immersive enough to make architecture feel newly bodily nor concentrated enough to give their collisions real pressure. The works luster, but they also diffuse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Bool\u2019s insistence on putting images through material processes matters in <em>The Wave<\/em>, especially because so much of what she\u2019s contending with is the fantasy of the frictionless: frictionless images, frictionless technologies, frictionless female company. In the large jacquard tapestry <em>Die Woge<\/em> (2026), Bool makes the correspondence between illusions of bodies and machinery almost obscenely easy. Klimsch\u2019s reclining nude retains her serene profile, extended arm, breasts, and bent knee, while a turbine-like machine takes the place of much of her torso and pelvis. Nothing in her comportment registers the substitution. She remains perfectly composed, even as woman and machine become continuous. In <em>Venus <\/em>(2026), another significant tapestry, the operation runs differently: Mechanical components\u2014jointed metal forms, struts, and lengths of cable or tubing\u2014seem to enter the figure as anatomy, coursing through the opened torso and leg while her classical head remains demurely inclined. Technology transforms these women\u2019s bodies without disturbing their poses. The old ideal and the new machine seem to recognize each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">What are the images of our period preserving? And what if they\u2019re embarrassing? Bool captures an old energy traveling forward, altered in appearance and disturbingly intact. Her machines don\u2019t replace these inherited ideals so much as furnish them with new bodies, new surfaces, new claims on the future. The friction comes in recognizing how little the underlying fantasy has had to change.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cThere is always a danger that the relative freedom of art can render it meaningless. Yet it is this same freedom which allows art, and art alone, to express and preserve the profoundest expectations of a period.\u201d \u2014Art and Revolution, John Berger (1969) To move in on a piece of Shannon Bool\u2019s\u2014a textile, a collage\u2014is [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24811,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[15214,13978,16452,13866],"class_list":["post-24809","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews","tag-daniel-faria-gallery","tag-john-berger","tag-shannon-bool","tag-sky-goodden"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24809","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24809"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24809\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24824,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24809\/revisions\/24824"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24811"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24809"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24809"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24809"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24783,"date":"2026-08-27T14:14:40","date_gmt":"2026-08-27T18:14:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24783"},"modified":"2026-08-29T12:01:47","modified_gmt":"2026-08-29T16:01:47","slug":"toward-lightness-aurelia-munoz-at-the-museo-nacional-centro-de-arte-reina-sofia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/08\/27\/toward-lightness-aurelia-munoz-at-the-museo-nacional-centro-de-arte-reina-sofia\/","title":{"rendered":"Toward Lightness: Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz at the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sof\u00eda"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s <em>Ondulaciones<\/em> (Undulations) (1974) is one of the Catalan artist\u2019s most monumental creations. The piece is composed of thick nylon hawsers\u2014a hardy, braided rope typically used for mooring boats\u2014intricately arranged in long, knotted rows. Despite the sculpture\u2019s considerable size (660 pounds, 8 feet wide and nearly as tall), its warm off-white color, ribbon-like body, and rising peaks give it the appearance of something much lighter, of something almost weightless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Titles matter immensely in Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s work, often illuminating the ideas and impulses at play within them. <em>Ondulaciones<\/em> comes from the Latin word unda, or wave (onda in Spanish), and the sculpture\u2019s supple shape infuses it with a sense of internal motion, as if it\u2019s merely gathering itself before taking flight. Large, animistic macram\u00e9 forms like <em>Ondulaciones<\/em> earned the artist international acclaim, and they remain the body of work that Mu\u00f1oz is best known for today. But when she made it, this sculpture marked a new wave in the artist\u2019s practice\u2014and a drastic change in Spanish life\u2014that would soon take her far away from the heft and monumentality of works like this one, toward a lighter, more intimate, and an increasingly far-reaching, even cosmic, vision.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_8-1024x683.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"prensa-aurelia-munoz_8-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_8-1024x683.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, <em>Ondulacions<\/em>, 1974 (in the foreground). Museo Reina Sof\u00eda, Madrid. Photograph by F\u00e1tima Sanz.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_8-1024x683.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, <em>Ondulacions<\\\/em>, 1974 (in the foreground). Museo Reina Sof\u00eda, Madrid. Photograph by F\u00e1tima Sanz.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>Ondulaciones<\/em> stands at the geographic center of <a href=\"https:\/\/www.museoreinasofia.es\/en\/exhibition\/aurelia-munoz\"><em>Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz. Beings<\/em><\/a> at the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sof\u00eda in Madrid. The retrospective features more than 150 artworks from all five decades of Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s remarkably varied career, during which she worked in embroidery, tapestry, assemblage, collage, drawing, sculpture, installation, and handmade paper. Housed on the ground floor of the museum\u2019s Nouvel Building, the exhibition\u2019s dimly-lit, low-ceilinged anteroom gracefully invites visitors to enter a separate and more reflective space, and the room\u2019s coarsely woven jute floor shifts our attention to texture, touch, and motion before we even encounter the artist\u2019s work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Born in the Catalan capital in 1926, Mu\u00f1oz was just ten years old when the Spanish Civil War broke out. It was a desperate time that S\u00edlvia Ventosa, the artist\u2019s daughter, co-curator of the exhibition, and director of the Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz Archive, says contributed to Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s later health struggles (another barrier she would confront in her art practice). In 1959, the thirty-three-year-old married mother of two enrolled in Barcelona\u2019s Escola Massana to study ceramics. A year later she moved her focus to textiles, drawn to their malleability and flexibility. She presented her first solo exhibition in Barcelona in 1963, and showed in her first Lausanne International Tapestry Biennial two years later.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.37081659973; --aspect-ratio-y:0.7294921875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.37081659973; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7294921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.7294921875; --aspect-ratio-padding:137.081659973%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Aurelia_Munoz-747x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Aurelia_Munoz-747x1024\" width=\"747\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Aurelia_Munoz-747x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz with her work <em>Macra I<\/em>, 1969.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Aurelia_Munoz-747x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz with her work <em>Macra I<\\\/em>, 1969.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s six appearances at this Biennial between 1965 and 1983 allowed her to meet and share her work with some of the leading lights of the Fiber Art and Nouvelle Tapisserie movements. Her contact with critics, curators, and collectors there led to her participation in numerous touring exhibitions across Europe and the United States, granting her critical access to contexts that were more receptive to women artists and their work than the male-dominated mainstream Spanish art scene, which like so many of the country\u2019s institutions at the time, functioned under the influence of the right-wing, militantly patriarchal government.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The artist\u2019s ambitious early tapestry pieces fill the first gallery of her retrospective. Executed in the labor-intensive acu pictae (Latin for \u201cpainting with a needle\u201d) embroidery method, these expansive, earth-toned works draw from the esoteric Catholic iconography and Medieval Catalan textiles that Mu\u00f1oz observed at nearby churches and cathedrals, as well as the unconventional architecture of Antoni Gaud\u00ed and the Surrealism of Paul Klee. The largest textile on display, <em>Homenaje a Jer\u00f3nimo Bosco<\/em> (Homage to Hieronymous Bosch) (1971), spans a staggering ten by fifteen and a half feet. Though it follows the technical parameters of tapestry\u2014a craft historically linked to the decoration of European aristocratic and religious spaces\u2014the piece\u2019s enigmatic abstract imagery and densely-sewn, upraised passages suggest a desire to leave the wall, and tradition, behind.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape is-landscape-large has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6572265625; --aspect-ratio-y:1.52154531947; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.52154531947; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6572265625; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:65.72265625%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_4_small-1024x673.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"prensa-aurelia-munoz_4_small-1024x673\" width=\"1024\" height=\"673\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_4_small-1024x673.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, <i><em>Homenaje a Jer\u00f3nimo Bosco<\/em><\/i>, 1971. Collection of Provinciehuis Noord-Brabant, \u2019s-Hertogenbosch. Photograph by F\u00e1tima Sanz.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_4_small-1024x673.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, <i><em>Homenaje a Jer\u00f3nimo Bosco<\\\/em><\\\/i>, 1971. Collection of Provinciehuis Noord-Brabant, \u2019s-Hertogenbosch. Photograph by F\u00e1tima Sanz.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In the next room, <em>Ondulaciones<\/em> is surrounded by a number of massive macram\u00e9 companions made of knotted sisal and jute. These freestanding woven towers, curtain-like cascades, and complex, layered orbs boast a marvelous stature and singularity. Almost all of Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s works from this era surpass the scale of the human body\u2014the largest stretches fifteen feet upward\u2014a clear signal of the artist\u2019s daring and determination. Many of these sculptures were created during the dictatorship of Francisco Franco, a National-Catholic regime that placed immense restrictions on Spanish women\u2019s daily lives and wider social possibilities. For nearly 40 years, espa\u00f1olas were largely banned from advanced professional and academic pursuits; their options were further limited by the fact that divorce, abortion, and contraception were illegal. \u201cWomen were invisible,\u201d Ventosa told me on a recent video call. \u201cThey had to stay at home at the service of their husbands and families, and it was not well-regarded for them to work for themselves.\u201d Yet at a moment when women needed written permission from their fathers or husbands to open bank accounts, get passports, or travel, Mu\u00f1oz conjured and constructed these enormous, experimental artworks in her Barcelona studio, and forged her exceptional international career.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Franco died the year after Mu\u00f1oz created <em>Ondulaciones<\/em>, finally opening the country\u2019s path to democracy. Prior to 1975, she kept her tapestries and macram\u00e9 sculptures connected to the wall or floor through anchors, stone weights, or draping ropes; by the late 1970s, she\u2019d begun making floating pieces like <em>\u00c0guila Beix<\/em> (Brown Eagle) (1977) that left the earth entirely. Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s next series,<em> Ocell estel<\/em> (Bird Kite) (early 1980s), are a buoyant combination recalling nautical sails, Leonardo da Vinci\u2019s flying machines, and airborne creatures. These works spread their wings across architectural and outdoor spaces, stirring in the wind and soaring above the heads of those who encountered them. This palpable shift toward lightness\u2014both material and conceptual\u2014would shape the rest of her career.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.751953125; --aspect-ratio-y:1.32987012987; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.32987012987; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.751953125; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:75.1953125%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/2_7_MunozStudio-1024x770.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"2_7_MunozStudio-1024x770\" width=\"1024\" height=\"770\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/2_7_MunozStudio-1024x770.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz working in her studio, 1982. Photograph by Josep Ventosa.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/2_7_MunozStudio-1024x770.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz working in her studio, 1982. Photograph by Josep Ventosa.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.0353892821; --aspect-ratio-y:0.9658203125; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.0353892821; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.9658203125; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.9658203125; --aspect-ratio-padding:103.53892821%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_13-1-989x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"prensa-aurelia-munoz_13-1-989x1024\" width=\"989\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_13-1-989x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, Model for <em>Ondulaciones<\/em>, 1974. Reina Sof\u00eda Museum, Madrid.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_13-1-989x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, Model for <em>Ondulaciones<\\\/em>, 1974. Reina Sof\u00eda Museum, Madrid.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">After the dictatorship ended, Mu\u00f1oz also began titling her pieces in Catalan, her native tongue, instead of Spanish. The Catalan, Basque, and Galician languages were banned in Spain during Francos\u2019s repressive rule, and were only legalized and officially reinstated with the country\u2019s 1978 constitution. Yet even before that, in her 1974 maquette for <em>Ondulaciones<\/em>, Mu\u00f1oz had written both \u201cREVES\u201d and \u201cENVERS\u201d (Spanish and Catalan for opposite) and \u201cDERECHO\u201d and \u201cDROIT\u201d (right in both languages) on her cut paper model, a modest but meaningful inscription that suggests she saw artmaking as space for defiance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">As the country opened to new possibilities, so did Mu\u00f1oz. She attended numerous biennials, exhibitions, and conferences through the years, becoming part of a dynamic dialogue among international artists that included Magdalena Abakanowicz, Olga de Amaral, Jagoda Bui\u0107, Sheila Hicks, and others. Yet Mu\u00f1oz was still perhaps most marked by the local artisans, teachers, and craftspeople she met on her many travels to Asia and North and South America. These often\u2013unnamed individuals exposed her to a rich range of traditional and ancient textile materials and techniques. A selection from the artist\u2019s personal collection of artifacts\u2014including Amazonian jewelry, a basket, small loom, and woven fish trap\u2014are on display in the exhibition alongside her books on knots, weaving, and traditional costume from Spain and elsewhere. This ever-expanding purview is evidenced in Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s later script-like works, which appear to draw from Japanese Kanji, Arabic, and other non-Roman writing systems, as well as her later string pieces inspired by Incan khipus.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape is-landscape-large has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.5; --aspect-ratio-y:2; --aspect-ratio-cover:2; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.5; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:50%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_12-1024x512.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"prensa-aurelia-munoz_12-1024x512\" width=\"1024\" height=\"512\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_12-1024x512.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, Maquettes for <em>Ocell estel&nbsp;<\/em>(Comet-Birds), 1981. Aur\u00e9lia Mu\u00f1oz Archive. Photograph by Fatima Sanz.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/prensa-aurelia-munoz_12-1024x512.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz, Maquettes for <em>Ocell estel <\\\/em>(Comet-Birds), 1981. Aur\u00e9lia Mu\u00f1oz Archive. Photograph by Fatima Sanz.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Mu\u00f1oz learned to make paper by hand at the Cleveland Institute of Art (USA) in 1979, and it became the artist\u2019s primary modality from the mid-1980s until her death at age 85 in 2011. This time period also coincided with challenges in the artist\u2019s health, and with Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s turn toward the Mahikari Japanese religious movement in the last fifteen years of her life. Mahikari is organized around the practice of Okiyome (often called the Art of True Light), in which members believe themselves to be capable of transmitting a kind of divine light and energy from their hands to purify, protect, and heal. This helped alleviate the artist\u2019s physical pain, and I can\u2019t help but see a connection between Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s devotion to a spiritual practice based on light and touch and her sublime final handmade paper work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Paper making is an elemental process that blends water, air, plant fibers, and time, but Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s paper works also transmit a kind of aesthetic transcendence. The portion of the exhibition dedicated to this last and longest phase of her practice displays an astonishing array of paper-based possibilities, including delicate rows of cream-colored sheets that shiver on the slightest breeze, hanging plum-colored paper pulp threads, and luscious stacks of jewel-toned medallions, some encrusted with small seashells or glistening with mica dust. Anthropologist Ana Mar\u00eda Ramo Affonso <a href=\"https:\/\/www.museoreinasofia.es\/en\/publication\/aurelia-munoz-entes-spanish\">writes<\/a> that Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s titles \u201copen paths in the territories of the imagination,\u201d and this is especially true of these paper pieces, with ethereal and amorphous names like<em> Papallona acu\u00e1tica<\/em> (Aquatic Butterfly) (1986), <em>Mandala<\/em> (1984), and <em>Paper plegat a l\u2019espai <\/em>(Folded Paper in Space) (2007). These works float and spiral endlessly, their illegible scripts surpassing meaning, and celebrating the formlessness of language and ideas. \u201cShe always wanted to reach infinity,\u201d Ventosa told me. I think Mu\u00f1oz made it there.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Aur\u00e8lia Mu\u00f1oz\u2019s Ondulaciones (Undulations) (1974) is one of the Catalan artist\u2019s most monumental creations. The piece is composed of thick nylon hawsers\u2014a hardy, braided rope typically used for mooring boats\u2014intricately arranged in long, knotted rows. Despite the sculpture\u2019s considerable size (660 pounds, 8 feet wide and nearly as tall), its warm off-white color, ribbon-like body, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24799,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24783","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24783","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24783"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24783\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24807,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24783\/revisions\/24807"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24799"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24783"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24783"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24783"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24760,"date":"2026-08-20T09:16:31","date_gmt":"2026-08-20T13:16:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24760"},"modified":"2026-08-20T09:16:33","modified_gmt":"2026-08-20T13:16:33","slug":"tactical-resistance-mary-ellen-carroll-at-cam-houston","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/08\/20\/tactical-resistance-mary-ellen-carroll-at-cam-houston\/","title":{"rendered":"Tactical Resistance: Mary Ellen Carroll at CAM Houston"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u201cWhen I work, I accumulate a great deal of material,\u201d artist Mary Ellen Carroll once <a href=\"https:\/\/steidl.de\/Books\/MEC-2022294145.html\">remarked<\/a>, \u201cand I need some way of organizing it.\u201d Their first major museum retrospective, which constitutes over 60 works from across four decades, organizes a great deal of material in two ways. The works themselves, occupying the entire ground floor of Contemporary Arts Museum Houston, are installed on six rows of reusable construction scaffolding designed in collaboration with the architect Juliana Ziebell (the supports for making a work are a part of the work). Each row is titled after one of the index cards in the catalogue that Carroll has long used to categorize and motivate their work.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The material and conceptual scaffolding reflect Carroll\u2019s careerlong interest in furnishing the public with alternatives to state laws and other systems that organize space for us. They selected six groupings\u2014DOUBLING, CLIMATE, POLICY, MEDIA, SOVEREIGNTY, and BEING\u2014and they notably never allow the included material to be reduced to census-like designations of geography or chronology. Instead, Carroll draws inspiration from theorist and historian Aby Warburg\u2019s 1920s <em>Mnemosyne Atlas<\/em>,which grouped thousands of images from antiquity to the present into clusters that demonstrate the persistent patterning of gestures and symbols across time.&nbsp;Look at what we have in common, Warburg seemed to say. Art is for the public, Carroll seems to add.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_34-1-1024x683.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_34-1-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_34-1-1024x683.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Installation view of <em>Resemblances<\/em> in <i>Mary Carroll Ellen: How to Talk Dirty and Influence People<\/i>. Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_34-1-1024x683.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Installation view of <em>Resemblances<\\\/em> in <i>Mary Carroll Ellen: How to Talk Dirty and Influence People<\\\/i>. Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Carroll, whose use of they\/them pronouns professionally suggests they consider their artist identity to be a corporate entity, confronts the categories we receive from above, such as those dictated by state bureaucracies, by proposing ground-up alternatives. To make sense of the world, they privilege what queer theorist Eve Sedgwick once called \u201cnonce taxonomies,\u201d designed for everyday use. Their <em>PUBLIC UTILITY 2.0 <\/em>(2008\u2013present) creates public access to wireless broadband through unused radio frequencies, which are otherwise highly regulated by the Federal Communications Commission. The FCC allocates different frequencies to different categories of use: maritime mobile, radio astronomy, TV broadcasting, etc. Some remain underused and unlicensed, such as those once designated to no-longer-airing television stations. Carroll\u2019s printed atlas of these official categories spans more than a couple dozen feet of the MEDIA row in their retrospective, hung above eye level on the scaffolding and color-coded in blocks like a chart of Pantone swatches. Their aim is to carve out what they call an \u201celectromagnetic commons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Carroll\u2019s interest in how the commons offers an alternative to state power is best captured in <em>FEDERAL <\/em>(2003), for which they filmed the Wilshire Federal Building in Los Angeles for 24 hours\u2014a difficult task post-9\/11. The exhibition includes documentation of Carroll requesting assistance in gaining the appropriate approvals, including a letter with Senator Hillary Clinton on CC. The occupants of the Federal Building, which included the FBI, surveil people from above, for instance through satellites. But Carroll returns the gaze and surveils it from below, from the street level.&nbsp;Their work is tactical in the sense philosopher Michel de Certeau <a href=\"https:\/\/monoskop.org\/images\/2\/2a\/De_Certeau_Michel_The_Practice_of_Everyday_Life.pdf\">offers<\/a> when he describes state designs for structuring space (and we can include the FCC\u2019s categorization of radio electromagnetic space) as a strategic bird\u2019s-eye view of the world. In contrast with such strategies, de Certeau defines tactics\u2014like jaywalking or insider shortcuts\u2014as belonging to everyday people, helping them make pathways through and around the state\u2019s strategic division of the city. Carroll\u2019s work recurringly aims to identify openings for tactical resistance in everyday practices.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-y:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-padding:149.926793558%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_77-1-683x1024.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_77-1-683x1024\" width=\"683\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_77-1-683x1024.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Installation view of <i>&nbsp;prototype 180: Daringly Unbuilt\u2014Costume design by Thom Browne,<\/i> 2017. Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_77-1-683x1024.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Installation view of <i> prototype 180: Daringly Unbuilt\u2014Costume design by Thom Browne,<\\\/i> 2017. Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">One work in the DOUBLING category, <em>Resemblance\u2014Jaywalking<\/em> (1999), part of the larger <em>Resemblance <\/em>series, includes photographs Carroll took of people they found doing the same ordinary task Carroll was also doing. The chromogenic print shows the artist and a man crossing a nondescript intersection that could be almost anywhere; the cropping excludes street signs from view. By naming the action, Carroll locates yet another commons in which people are brought together not through sharing the same bureaucratic identities of age or race or gender or ethnicity, but through sharing an affinity for everyday life.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>Resemblance<\/em> in turn reframes other works from the ongoing <em>Doppelg\u00e4nger <\/em>project, which began in the 1980s and was especially important for Carroll\u2019s career in the early 2000s, including multiple works in which a stranger was auditioned and cast to imitate them, perhaps most notoriously performing \u201cMary Ellen Carroll\u201d at the annual conference of the College Art Association. <em>All the men who think they can be me<\/em> (2003), for instance, constitutes more than 60 black-and-white headshots of people who responded to an ad calling for men who thought they resembled Carroll. These works of mimeticism are <a href=\"https:\/\/www.galeriewinter.at\/en\/artists\/mary-ellen-carroll\/semblable-jonathan-flatley\/\">often understood<\/a> through art historical rubrics of repetition: an exploration of copies and originals in an age when people, as much as objects, are mass-produced. But Carroll might be better understood here not to be offering themself as an original to be copied but as a category to be populated with additional examples, like Warburg looking for commonalities across time.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.69140625; --aspect-ratio-y:1.44632768362; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.44632768362; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.69140625; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:69.140625%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/ContemporaryArtsMuseumHouston_8-1024x708.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"ContemporaryArtsMuseumHouston_8-1024x708\" width=\"1024\" height=\"708\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/ContemporaryArtsMuseumHouston_8-1024x708.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Model for <em>prototype 180 (phase III)<\/em>, 2023. Photograph by Mary Ellen Carroll\/MEC, studios.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/ContemporaryArtsMuseumHouston_8-1024x708.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Model for <em>prototype 180 (phase III)<\\\/em>, 2023. Photograph by Mary Ellen Carroll\\\/MEC, studios.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Carroll\u2019s most famous work, <em>prototype 180<\/em> (1999\u2013ongoing), treats lack of zoning laws in Houston as material. Carroll wanted, according to an original note of inspiration, \u201cto treat policy as a readymade.\u201d Another work that began as an idea on an index card, <em>prototype 180<\/em> has involved the scouting, purchasing, and manipulation of an abandoned house in the master-planned subdivision of Sharpstown. In 2010, they raised and rotated the entire house 180 degrees. Included in the exhibit are a number of photographs and a video documenting this massive endeavor, with brittle bricks and paint-stripped wooden panels barely holding together as the house is lifted, rotated, and resituated. In 2017, following an insurance inspector\u2019s claim that Hurricane Harvey had left the house worthless, Carroll carefully deconstructed the house before a live audience, wearing a suit while operating a Caterpillar excavator.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Like the excavations of an archaeologist, Caroll was not so much destroying as revealing. Lack of zoning had long allowed industry and domesticity to sit uncomfortably close to each other; it could allow art to intervene into Houston\u2019s urban space, too. In a 2009 CAMH exhibition, <em>No Zoning: Artists Engage Houston<\/em>, Carroll contributed a reproduction of the living room from <em>prototype 180<\/em> and used it as a stage to moderate a panel of mayoral candidates discussing their views on land use. Indeed, Carroll\u2019s first careerlong survey could not really be mounted in a city other than Houston, where they have occasionally lived and whose topography they have long engaged, even teaching a seminar titled <em>NOZONE<\/em> at Rice University\u2019s School of Architecture.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.25030525031; --aspect-ratio-y:0.7998046875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.25030525031; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.7998046875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.7998046875; --aspect-ratio-padding:125.030525031%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_69-1-819x1024.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_69-1-819x1024\" width=\"819\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_69-1-819x1024.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Installation view of <i>&nbsp;prototype 180<\/i> in <i>Mary Carroll Ellen: How to Talk Dirty and Influence People<\/i>.  Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/CAMHexh_MEC_2026_SF_69-1-819x1024.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Installation view of <i> prototype 180<\\\/i> in <i>Mary Carroll Ellen: How to Talk Dirty and Influence People<\\\/i>.  Courtesy of CAMH. Photograph by Sean Fleming.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">After the house had been rotated, Carroll collaborated with botanists to classify all the plants on the apparently abandoned plot. Photographs show ungroomed grass peeking up over patches of barren dirt. From the state\u2019s strategic perspective, this house was dead, and these plants were weeds. But from a tactical perspective, Carroll\u2019s work of classification cultivates and promotes life in an age of immigration crackdowns and expansive policing. It encourages us to wonder what other forms of life and action that the state tries to weed out we might try to support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Cognitive scientists have found that our minds naturally classify objects more like jaywalkers than city planners. In line with Carroll\u2019s own language for <em>prototype 180<\/em>, Eleanor Rosch\u2019s prototype theory holds that we form categories not through definitions but through pointing to the best examples: a couch, say, rather than a credenza, for the category of \u201cfurniture.\u201d And, tactically, picking better examples can in turn transform and expand categories\u2014compare \u201cas American as apple pie\u201d with, say, \u201cas American as tres leches.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Carroll is always looking for better prototypes for our shared categories, including the ultimate category of the commons\u2014all the resources and culture that belong, or ought to belong, to the public. Carroll\u2019s work invites us to protect this shared realm from the enclosures of the state. Like the jaywalkers photographed in the <em>Resemblance <\/em>series, we may not have anything in common with one another besides this everyday action. But that action is ours, and it is why we must share the project of protecting the commons all the more.&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cWhen I work, I accumulate a great deal of material,\u201d artist Mary Ellen Carroll once remarked, \u201cand I need some way of organizing it.\u201d Their first major museum retrospective, which constitutes over 60 works from across four decades, organizes a great deal of material in two ways. The works themselves, occupying the entire ground floor [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24771,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24760","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24760","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24760"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24760\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24778,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24760\/revisions\/24778"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24771"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24760"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24760"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24760"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24733,"date":"2026-08-13T09:52:07","date_gmt":"2026-08-13T13:52:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24733"},"modified":"2026-08-13T11:01:58","modified_gmt":"2026-08-13T15:01:58","slug":"working-for-war-khajistan-at-pioneer-works","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/08\/13\/working-for-war-khajistan-at-pioneer-works\/","title":{"rendered":"Working for War: Khajistan at Pioneer Works"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">From June 1942 until its dissolution in 1945, the Office of War Information (OWI) generated public support for World War II, operating as a centralized federal apparatus established by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Officially, the agency was charged with spreading news about US military action, but in practice it formulated and executed propaganda that functioned on two fronts. Domestically, the OWI deployed mass media, including radio broadcasts, film, and photography, to drum up patriotic fervor at home and legitimize the US as global police. (For instance, the OWI produced <em>Japanese Relocation<\/em>, a short film supporting the forced removal and incarceration of Japanese Americans in internment camps.) Abroad, the OWI carried out psychological warfare designed to dismantle enemy nations, which, at this time, included Nazi Germany, Japan, and Italy. Chief among its instruments were leaflets dropped into targeted regions, a tactic still deployed today. &nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The prints, such as the ones air-dropped over Japan as a part of the US\u2019s Pacific War propaganda, were framed as a necessary form of communication to offer supposedly benevolent warnings to civilians and soldiers. The design of many of these evoked the political cartoons printed in American newspapers and magazines around the same time: hyperbolic, hand-drawn, and often relying on racist caricatures. One leaflet has the outline of Japan with the sky polluted in a cloud of black smoke; nearly a dozen missiles rain down from above. Another shows a plate full of stereotypical cuisine, including sushi and sashimi, dropped over islands as a way of tormenting hungry, stranded Japanese troops. A town collapsing and erupting in flames appears in a third print, rendered in a bright crimson; it also shows civilians screaming in terror and clutching their young. These leaflets harassed and ridiculed, trivializing and othering those they depicted while simultaneously instilling fear in their recipients, many of whom were civilians. Enacting warfare is as much about controlling the mind and body as it is the land and its resources.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.75; --aspect-ratio-y:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.75; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:75%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-2-1024x768.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Khajistan-2-1024x768\" width=\"1024\" height=\"768\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-2-1024x768.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khajistan, <i>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\/i> (detail), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Khajistan-2-1024x768.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khajistan, <i>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\\\/i> (detail), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">These original leaflets were framed and hung in the foyer of <a href=\"https:\/\/pioneerworks.org\/exhibitions\/office-of-war-information-o-w-i\"><em>Office of War Information (O.W.I.)<\/em><\/a>, an exhibition from Khajistan, a New York\u2013based archive and publishing platform that collects and digitizes censored media from South Asia to North Africa. Curated by filmmaker and archivist Saad Khan and designed by Joey Chriqui, the exhibition unfolded across the third floor of Pioneer Works in Brooklyn, and ran from May 8 to August 9. Around the corner from the foyer, Khajistan transformed a gallery room into an immersive, speculative re-creation of an OWI workspace stuck in the low-tech 1990s. Two cluttered steel tanker desks outfitted with clunky computers were paired with worn chairs upholstered in a busy pattern of muted purples, blues, and browns. The floor was carpeted in a musty olive-green tone, and leaflets hung on the office\u2019s wood-paneled walls. While the space was absent of employees, their work continued; a printer spat out replica leaflets that were also scattered across the room, covering the floor, desks, and filing cabinets. The propa-materials in this room included those distributed in Afghanistan, Iraq, Kuwait, and Libya from the \u201990s until the present day. Although several decades passed between the OWI\u2019s existence and the creation of these more modern papers, the same tactics were present. Both iterations of leafleting show not only the normalization and continuation of the logics of war, but also how war is manufactured in overt and covert ways across our media and information systems. The archival materials were also displayed alongside everyday objects branded with American pop culture iconography: a Charlie Brown\u2013themed trash can sat below one of the desks, classic sitcoms played on a mounted TV, and a Kit-Cat Klock hung on the wall. The installation presented war as a bona fide, made-in-America commodity ready for mass consumption, not dissimilar from the kitschy products on display.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Khajistan was founded by Khan in 2021. It has created publications on Pakistani cinema and erotica from Iran, while also spearheading the preservation of magazines, literature, and ephemera, with a focus on media rarely included in official archives. In 2022, Khajistan began acquiring US war propaganda, collecting materials produced and distributed by the OWI, as well as by military and state departments and intelligence agencies like the CIA. Khajistan has amassed hundreds of objects, including pamphlets, guides, and booklets, from a variety of sources, such as military servicemembers and their families, commanders, and antiquarians. Many of the leaflets on view also appear in <a href=\"https:\/\/khajistan.com\/products\/american-war-propaganda-leaflets-1990-2022-khajistan?variant=46423468146902\"><em>American War Propaganda Leaflets (1990 &#8211; 2022<\/em><\/a><em>)<\/em>, a book published by Khajistan in 2024.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-y:0.75; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.75; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.75; --aspect-ratio-padding:133.333333333%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-3-768x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Khajistan-3-768x1024\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-3-768x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khajistan, <i>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\/i> (installation view), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Khajistan-3-768x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khajistan, <i>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\\\/i> (installation view), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Inside the OWI office re-creation, a single recessed troffer served as the main source of light, casting a hazy, fluorescent glow on the center of the room. The liminality suggested that the office existed outside of time, like a backroom, <a href=\"https:\/\/pioneerworks.org\/broadcast\/no-myth-here-khajistan-saad-khan-megan-fernandes\">uncanny and familiar<\/a>. It was the 1940s, 1990s, early 2000s, and present day all at once. Ambient noise also enveloped the space. A handful of fans of various sizes, placed on the floor, atop the desks and cabinets, and on the walls, sounded as if they\u2019d been on for decades, clanking and humming in cacophonous concert. By design, the space appeared as banal as any depressing bureaucratic workplace from the mid-to-late 20<sup>th<\/sup> century. War has seeped into all aspects of our everyday lives, duplicating and remanufacturing itself through the endless production of propaganda. Though the leaflets and ephemera argue that this is a necessary, unavoidable, even ordained process, the conditions in which they were created makes plain the reality: that war is a product, these materials are its advertising, and we are equal parts marketer and consumer. (This remains true today. Look no further than the way our papers of record <a href=\"https:\/\/www.palestine-studies.org\/en\/node\/1655054\">spew Israeli propaganda<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/newyorkwarcrimes.com\/\">manufacturing consent for genocide<\/a>, or how our so-called \u201cSecretary of War\u201d posts <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/p\/DaX0N8JuRoo\/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet\">AI slop<\/a> and <a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/reel\/DbPJ-IaMXo0\/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet\">sensationalist sizzle reels<\/a> on Instagram, recruiting \u201cAmerican warriors\u201d to \u201ckill the enemy.\u201d)<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The exhibition encouraged visitors to interact with its scene of bureaucratic disarray. Each loose replica leaflet featured a yellow numerical code printed in the corner. Once you found a code, you could enter it into a database using the desktop on the left side of the room. The database would then populate with the leaflet\u2019s record, including its imagery, year, place of distribution, and translation. Objectives were also included in the records, which name the motivations for the flyers, including warning residents of bombs or mines, lodging threats to crush resistance, regulating civilian behavior, and presenting military intervention as a pseudo-peaceful act toward stabilization and nation-state-building. Mimicking the motions of a worker in this space made palpable the dissonance in America between the quotidian work we\u2019re compelled to produce and the material devastation that that work helps to realize. \u201cAmericans are trained to think that whatever America does is with benevolence,\u201d Khan <a href=\"https:\/\/pioneerworks.org\/broadcast\/no-myth-here-khajistan-saad-khan-megan-fernandes\">told <em>Broadcast<\/em><\/a>, Pioneer Works\u2019 magazine. \u201cFirst the bombs and then the nonprofits, but before the bombs are the leaflets.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.75; --aspect-ratio-y:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.75; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:75%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-4-1024x768.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Khajistan-4-1024x768\" width=\"1024\" height=\"768\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-4-1024x768.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khajistan, <em>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\/em> (detail), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Khajistan-4-1024x768.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khajistan, <em>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\\\/em> (detail), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">One of the replicas on the floor, <em>Leaflet 4<\/em>, depicted Iraqi soldiers fleeing as a US F-117 stealth fighter bombed an airfield. The print\u2019s design style mirrored those produced by the OWI and dropped over Japan; the soldiers run like cartoon characters, and an explosion pops as if drawn inside a comic book. At the top, in Arabic, it reads: \u201cThis site is being bombed!\u201d The computer stated that this one was dispersed from 1990 to \u201991, created as a part of Operation Desert Shield during the Gulf War and aimed to instill panic and disorder to compel Iraqi forces to abandon their posts. <em>Leaflet 265<\/em>, which targeted so-called \u201cwanted insurgents\u201d and \u201carmed opponents,\u201d was dropped as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom, the 2003 invasion and subsequent eight-year occupation of Iraq led by the US. In it, a pair of piercing, wide-open eyes stares at the viewer, exemplifying how the US has evolved its leafleting style since the OWI. The use of photography adds a chilling, realistic effect to this print and others, coupled with commands that are outright threats. Under the subject\u2019s eyes, the leaflet reads, in Arabic: \u201cNo matter where you run, no matter where you hide, Coalition Special Operations Forces will find you and bring you to justice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-y:0.75; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.33333333333; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.75; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.75; --aspect-ratio-padding:133.333333333%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-5-768x1024.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Khajistan-5-768x1024\" width=\"768\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Khajistan-5-768x1024.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khajistan, <em>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\/em> (installation view), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Khajistan-5-768x1024.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khajistan, <em>Office of War Information (O.W.I)<\\\/em> (installation view), 2026. Courtesy of the artist and Pioneer Works. Photo by Dan Bradica Studio Inc.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Other leaflets showed a deeper investment in misinformation and dehumanizing imagery. In <em>Leaflet 6<\/em>, the US attempted to evade its part in the Gulf War, showing a bloodied Iraqi flag alongside a cartoonish Saddam Hussein; it reads, in Arabic, \u201cSaddam is the only reason to bomb Iraq,\u201d as if to suggest the US had no hand in Iraq\u2019s suffering and that we left the nation alone after Hussein was executed in 2006. (The US would maintain a military presence in the country for some twenty years after that.) Also dropped in Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom, <em>Leaflet 257<\/em>, aimed at children, featured especially violent language alongside a collage of kids. The text, written in Arabic, states, \u201cWhen a child throws stones at coalition vehicles, this may be misunderstood by the soldiers as an offensive act that results in them being injured or killed.\u201d Despite their differences, when compared to the original OWI leaflets, both iterations of flyers illustrate the ways in which the US machine works to flatten histories of conquest and turmoil, producing propaganda that promotes simplistic narratives of enemy versus ally and ensuring American warfare remains a consistent\u2014and uncontested\u2014part of everyday life around the world.&nbsp; <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In the far-right corner of the room, a small TV played episodes of <em>Friends<\/em>, <em>Everybody Loves Raymond<\/em>, and <em>The Simpsons<\/em>. In \u201cThe One With the Embryos,\u201d from <em>Friends<\/em>, the New Yorkers made bets, played games, and tried to get pregnant. \u201cBaggage,\u201d an episode of <em>Everybody Loves Raymond<\/em>, showed a suburban husband and wife at odds over household labor. With glitchy transmission, these looping clips ran with closed captions in Arabic, the audio often warping into a deeper pitch, as if to lull its targeted populations into a charming conception of their aggressors. Functioning as soft propaganda, these episodes portrayed the US as civilized, welcoming, even funny on the surface. But then the screen flickered, and the audio warped again; a parody of America came into view, wherein we come across as vapid and, for lack of a better word, annoying. We\u2019re cartoonish and stereotypical, simplistic in our moral dilemmas. As I moved through the office, the voice of Jennifer Aniston\u2019s Rachel Green blended with a faint noise buzzing like a drone. The sound, which came from inside a metal wardrobe, was emitted by a radio playing audio from a US airstrike carried out in Baghdad in 2007 that murdered two civilians and injured two children. Hung at the center of the room, equidistant from the wardrobe and the TV (the muffled bombing harmonized with the hum of the fans and the still-audible <em>Friends<\/em> episode), was a black towel with a bright yellow border. In white text, the towel read in both English and Arabic: \u201cCAUTION STAY 100 METERS BACK OR YOU WILL BE SHOT.\u201d Here, the sights and sounds of an unremarkable workday, a quintessential American sitcom, and US-sanctioned death became indistinguishable.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>From June 1942 until its dissolution in 1945, the Office of War Information (OWI) generated public support for World War II, operating as a centralized federal apparatus established by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Officially, the agency was charged with spreading news about US military action, but in practice it formulated and executed propaganda that functioned [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24737,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13839],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24733","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-reviews"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24733","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24733"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24733\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24747,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24733\/revisions\/24747"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24737"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24733"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24733"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24733"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":24707,"date":"2026-08-07T09:34:02","date_gmt":"2026-08-07T13:34:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/?p=24707"},"modified":"2026-08-21T18:32:48","modified_gmt":"2026-08-21T22:32:48","slug":"bringing-their-own-self-khaled-sabsabi-in-venice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/08\/07\/bringing-their-own-self-khaled-sabsabi-in-venice\/","title":{"rendered":"Art Has Its Own Life Force: Khaled Sabsabi in Venice"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In the end, it almost seems like it was always meant to be this way. Khaled Sabsabi sat quietly beside his friend Michael Dagostino in the little kitchen beneath the Australian pavilion at the Venice Biennale as Dagostino told him, \u201cIt\u2019s who you are.\u201d It was early May, and Sabsabi had just debuted two artworks: <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em> upstairs and <em>khalil<\/em> over in the Biennale\u2019s international exhibition, <em>In Minor Keys<\/em>. That Sabsabi and Dagostino, his curator, would make it here was no sure thing a year earlier, when Sabsabi became the center of a political controversy in Australia that saw him appointed, sacked, and eventually reinstated to the pavilion. \u201cEverybody said, \u2018You did it with such grace; you didn\u2019t lash out,\u2019\u201d continued Dagostino. \u201cBut we don\u2019t. It was strange that people felt like it was a strategy or something.\u201d &nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em> hangs in the Australian pavilion, a smooth black construction that was built in 2015, the newest addition to the Biennale\u2019s Giardini. The artwork consists of an octagon of large painted panels, facing outward, with a digitized version of the painting projected back onto itself, using gentle variations in color and shape to make the abstract patterns morph and sway. A few minutes\u2019 walk away, Sabsabi\u2019s single 40-meter canvas opens the exhibition at the Arsenale\u2014the Biennale\u2019s other, denser venue, housed in an old military barracks\u2014hanging in a loose spiral in the middle of its own room. <em>khalil<\/em> is the inverse of <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>, inviting visitors into its embrace to view the painting and projection on its inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Sabsabi\u2019s two works are a linked meditation on Sufism, the spiritual philosophy of Islam that the artist has been exploring over the past two decades. While the works are in part a result of his bumpy path to Venice, they are also the culmination of a much longer journey of exploration across Sabsabi\u2019s career.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/5.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-1024x683.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"5.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/5.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-1024x683.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/5.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-1024x683.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\\\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">On February 7, 2025, Creative Australia announced that Sabsabi would produce the Australian pavilion at the 2026 Venice Biennale, along with Dagostino. Four days later, a <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theaustralian.com.au\/business\/margin-call\/arts-council-takes-creative-approach-to-racism\/news-story\/00e630f4d43423d15892ead5cfadaf8d\">column<\/a> by Yoni Bashan ran in <em>The Australian<\/em>, a conservative newspaper, attacking Sabsabi\u2019s appointment. Bashan had dug up a 2007 work from Sabsabi\u2019s catalogue called <em>You<\/em>, which features images of then-Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah, and claimed that it glorified the terrorist organization. The Australian government classified Hezbollah as a terrorist organization only in 2021, and the work was produced at a time when Sabsabi was exploring ambiguities in his own Lebanese heritage and how cultural identity is weaponized in wartime propaganda.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Bashan\u2019s allegation was taken up on February 13 by conservative Senator Claire Chandler, who, in parliament, demanded to know why Sabsabi had been appointed. Panic spread across the government, and that night Creative Australia\u2019s board held an emergency meeting, deciding to mitigate the perceived risk of divisive discourse by withdrawing Sabsabi and Dagostino\u2019s appointment. Bashan and Chandler, unconcerned with the nuances of Sabsabi\u2019s work, got the media frenzy they wanted by exploiting the artist\u2019s identity as a Muslim Arabic Australian. &nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Almost immediately, the arts community rallied to Sabsabi\u2019s side. The remaining artists on Creative Australia\u2019s Venice short list signed a <a href=\"https:\/\/www.e-flux.com\/notes\/655601\/open-letter-to-reinstate-khaled-sabsabi-and-michael-dagostino\">statement<\/a> condemning the decision and calling for Sabsabi\u2019s reinstatement, ensuring that none of them could be called upon to replace him. The magazine <em>Artist Profile<\/em> published ten <a href=\"https:\/\/artistprofile.com.au\/ten-curators-in-support-of-khaled-sabsabi-edition-2\/\">defenses<\/a> of Sabsabi by Australian and international curators. The artist Lindy Lee resigned from her position on Creative Australia\u2019s board, saying in an <a href=\"https:\/\/www.artshub.com.au\/news\/news\/lindy-lee-reveals-driving-forces-behind-venice-biennale-board-meeting-decision-2807446\/\">interview<\/a> with ABC Radio that \u201cthe sense I had was that we were being hemmed in by press and by government.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape is-landscape-large has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.658203125; --aspect-ratio-y:1.51928783383; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.51928783383; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.658203125; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:65.8203125%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Michael-and-Khaled-2026.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x674.jpg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Michael-and-Khaled-2026.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x674\" width=\"1024\" height=\"674\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Michael-and-Khaled-2026.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x674.jpg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi and Michael Dagostino, 2026. Photo by Andrea Rossetti.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Michael-and-Khaled-2026.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x674.jpg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi and Michael Dagostino, 2026. Photo by Andrea Rossetti.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">For his part, Sabsabi blocked out the noise and began work on a new painting in his makeshift garage studio, hoping still to complete the work he\u2019d originally planned for Venice. Dagostino began organizing support from their communities in Western Sydney, across Australia, and internationally, eventually starting a fundraiser to help them produce the proposed exhibition. From the beginning, they wanted the work to make it to Venice in some form, even if it had to be shown in a space unaffiliated with the Biennale. When it became clear that Sabsabi\u2019s garage wasn\u2019t big enough to complete the work, the artist Abdul Abdullah gifted Sabsabi his studio and staff in Bangkok.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In Bangkok, Sabsabi layered swirls of paint onto the canvas that would go on to become <em>khalil<\/em>. He digitally merged the painted forms with other footage to create a video version of the painting in which various figures, faces, and forms emerge out of the nest of swirls. He suspended and circled the canvas in the middle of the room with the paint on the inside and then projected the video version back onto its source, bringing the paint to life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Sabsabi finished <em>khalil<\/em> two weeks earlier than planned. \u201cI had a dream that I needed to make more work,\u201d said Sabsabi in a <a href=\"https:\/\/artreview.com\/watch-khaled-sabsabi-and-michael-dagostino-in-conversation\/\">conversation<\/a> with Dagostino for <em>ArtReview<\/em> ahead of the Biennale\u2019s opening. \u201cSo I decided to stay on. And it wasn\u2019t until much later in the process that the reasoning \u2026 made itself visible.\u201d Over those two weeks, Sabsabi made the eight panels that became <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-y:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-padding:149.926793558%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/6.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-683x1024.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"6.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-683x1024\" width=\"683\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/6.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-683x1024.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/6.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-683x1024.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\\\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">He had just finished both works when he was contacted by Koyo Kouoh, the curator of <em>In Minor Keys<\/em>, who wanted to include him in her show. (Kouoh <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/artanddesign\/2025\/may\/14\/koyo-kouoh-obituary\">died<\/a> shortly after, in May 2025, while she was still organizing the exhibition.) Then, in July, after an external review of the sacking scandal, Creative Australia <a href=\"https:\/\/creative.gov.au\/news-events\/news\/creative-australia-releases-external-review\">announced<\/a> Sabsabi and Dagostino\u2019s reinstatement, meaning Sabsabi would be in the unique position of showing two works in Venice. He is the first Australian artist to do so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Radically accepting events bigger than himself is something of a guiding principle for Sabsabi. \u201cMy practice has always been about making,\u201d he said in the kitchen. \u201cWhere it\u2019s exhibited becomes secondary.\u201d He was undeterred by the political storms brewing around him and put his head down to make these works with a calm determination. Showing in both the national pavilion and the international exhibition only amplifies the message of his works, their emphasis on shared humanity going beyond the usual silos of the Biennale, where reductive national identities and the debates they spark often drown out the art itself.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Sabsabi_BringtheSilence-1024x683.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"Sabsabi_BringtheSilence-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/Sabsabi_BringtheSilence-1024x683.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi, <em>Bring the Silence<\/em>, 2018. Photo by Anna Kucera. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/Sabsabi_BringtheSilence-1024x683.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi, <em>Bring the Silence<\\\/em>, 2018. Photo by Anna Kucera. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Khaled Sabsabi was born in Lebanon in 1965. His parents moved to Australia in the early 1970s looking for short-term work, leaving Sabsabi with his grandmother and aunt. After the Lebanese civil war broke out in 1975, they sent for him and eventually settled together in Western Sydney, to this day one of the most culturally diverse parts of Australia. \u201cThe majority of people in our community are first-generation migrants,\u201d Sabsabi explained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">His parents opened an Arabic music and video store, \u201can encyclopedia,\u201d Sabsabi said, \u201cthat, hand in hand with hip-hop, was an important school for me.\u201d His artistic potential was spotted and nurtured by art teachers at his high school, where he excelled in drawing. He developed a tinkering practice as a hip-hop performer under the name Peacefender in the 1980s and would bring that approach into his art in the 1990s. He began mixing his painting and large-scale installations with a video editing technique inspired by sampling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In 2002, Sabsabi returned to Lebanon for the first time since he\u2019d fled as a child. \u201cIt was about reconnecting with language, geography, and culture,\u201d said Sabsabi. On that trip, he also met his Sufi teacher, who remains an important guide through the spiritual and philosophical teachings of Islam. \u201cThat was the first time that I started to look at the nuances of spirituality,\u201d said Sabsabi. Faith became a leading part of his art, influencing him to embrace the unknown in his search for identity and meaning and bringing a new level of ambiguity into his work. Asked to sum up Sufism, he said that \u201cit\u2019d take us years to be able to capture what it means,\u201d and his accumulation of knowledge over time is palpable in his work, through the overlaying patterns and the invitation to viewers to find their own meanings.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-portrait is-portrait-large is-small is-small-width is-large is-large-height has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:1.51032448378; --aspect-ratio-y:0.662109375; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.51032448378; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.662109375; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:0.662109375; --aspect-ratio-padding:151.032448378%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/10.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-678x1024.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"10.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-678x1024\" width=\"678\" height=\"1024\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/10.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-678x1024.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/10.-Khaled-Sabsabi-conference-of-ones-self-2026-Australia-Pavilion.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti.jpg-678x1024.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi, <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\\\/em>, 2026, Australia Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Sabsabi and Dagostino, friends and collaborators since the 1990s, were a softly spoken inseparable duo in Venice. They both have long, curly hair; they both dress in all black; and their calm poise contrasted the hectic energy of the Biennale\u2019s preview week. Just like Sabsabi\u2019s art, they focused on sharing their work instead of playing a loud role in the many protests, controversies, and strikes that dominate the week. \u201cThe Venice Biennale is an opportunity for artists to go as big as they possibly can,\u201d said Dagostino, \u201cand sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn\u2019t. I find the most interesting artists [here] are those who work in that quieter space.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Visitors to the Australian pavilion come up a gravel pathway and encounter two doorways, each covered with handmade curtains commissioned by Sabsabi from the <a href=\"https:\/\/aceinc.org.au\/pillar\/multicultural-womens-hub\/\">Multicultural Women\u2019s Hub<\/a>, part of the Arts and Cultural Exchange in Parramatta, Western Sydney, depicting colorful patterns of moons and suns. Either door could be an entrance or an exit, and the viewer chooses to navigate the pavilion clockwise or counterclockwise. \u201cEach individual has their own experience, brings their own self,\u201d said Sabsabi. \u201cBut whichever way they go, they come back to the beginning,\u201d again reflecting the endless task of spiritual exploration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Inside the dark internal space, the <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em> glows gently under the projection. It uses the same technique as <em>khalil<\/em> but faces outward, appearing to float in the middle of the room. The painted swirls could almost be alive, as the projection changes the colors and causes new forms to emerge, even giving the illusion of three-dimensional depth at times. After a while it becomes difficult to tell what is fixed paint on the canvas or whether the whole thing is just a projection. \u201cEverything is in flux,\u201d repeated Sabsabi many times during our conversations.<\/p>\n\n\n<figure data-zoom role=\"none\" class=\"image has-link is-landscape has-caption wp-block-image image--figure\" style=\"--aspect-ratio-x:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-y:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-cover:1.49926793558; --aspect-ratio-contain:0.6669921875; --aspect-ratio-contain-width:1; --aspect-ratio-padding:66.69921875%\">\n<a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/1.-Khaled-Sabsabi-khalil-2026-In-Minor-Keys.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x683.jpeg\" class=\"image--link\"><img decoding=\"async\" alt=\"1.-Khaled-Sabsabi-khalil-2026-In-Minor-Keys.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x683\" width=\"1024\" height=\"683\" loading=\"lazy\" lazy src=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/08\/1.-Khaled-Sabsabi-khalil-2026-In-Minor-Keys.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x683.jpeg?ver=1.0.219\" onload=\"this.removeAttribute(&quot;lazy&quot;); this.removeAttribute(&quot;onload&quot;)\" class=\"image--source image--media img\" \/><\/a>\n<figcaption class=\"image--caption image__caption\">Khaled Sabsabi, <i>khalil<\/i>, 2026. Developed with Michael Dagostino. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.<\/figcaption>\n<script type=\"json\/data\">{\n    \"url\": \"https:\\\/\\\/momus.ca\\\/wp-content\\\/uploads\\\/2026\\\/08\\\/1.-Khaled-Sabsabi-khalil-2026-In-Minor-Keys.-Photo-by-Andrea-Rossetti-1024x683.jpeg\",\n    \"caption\": \"Khaled Sabsabi, <i>khalil<\\\/i>, 2026. Developed with Michael Dagostino. Photo: Andrea Rossetti. Courtesy the artist and Milani Gallery.\"\n}<\/script>\n<\/figure>\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Khalil means \u201cdear friend\u201d in Arabic, and Sabsabi sees <em>khalil<\/em> as a much more nurturing work than <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em>. The first work in the Arsenale exhibition, it welcomes people, surrounding them with the soft light coming off the canvas. <em>khalil<\/em>\u2019s projections speak a little louder than its sibling\u2019s. The faces that emerge from the abstract shapes feel like a crowd of people forming out of the endless churn of the universe, finding community across their differences or similarities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">The stories of <em>khalil <\/em>and <em>conference of one\u2019s self<\/em> are stories of migration, and migration is always about chance. \u201cThey got an option to choose Canada, America, or Australia,\u201d Sabsabi recalled of his parents. \u201cThey were the places taking people seeking refuge. How do you choose?\u201d Since <em>khalil<\/em> was originally conceived for the walls of the Australian pavilion, its journey to the Arsenale leaves it floating in the much bigger space. It doesn\u2019t feel out of place or without a home, but it isn\u2019t tied down, either, like it\u2019s a traveler passing through. \u201cIt\u2019s quite poetic,\u201d said Sabsabi. \u201cIt\u2019s got its own life force, and it wanted to be there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">This year\u2019s Biennale had no shortage of controversies, in the artworks themselves and in the <a href=\"https:\/\/www.bbc.com\/news\/articles\/cvgz14e1zeno\">protests<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theguardian.com\/artanddesign\/2026\/may\/08\/several-venice-biennale-pavilions-shut-in-protest-over-inclusion-of-israel\">strikes<\/a>, <a href=\"https:\/\/momus.ca\/2026\/05\/14\/what-it-means-to-continue-on-gabrielle-goliath-reparative-work-and-resisting-state-violence\/\">cancellations<\/a>, and <a href=\"https:\/\/www.e-flux.com\/notes\/6783487\/statement-of-resignation\">resignations<\/a> that accompanied them. But even though <em>In Minor Keys <\/em>is itself a crowded, at times overwhelming exhibition, it\u2019s clear that Kouoh could source her vision of quiet continuance in Sabsabi\u2019s work. <em>khalil<\/em> \u201csets the tone for the rest of the exhibition,\u201d said Dagostino. More than that, <em>khalil <\/em>makes visible the qualities that carried Sabsabi through the past year: patience, openness, and an insistence on complexity over certainty.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In the end, it almost seems like it was always meant to be this way. Khaled Sabsabi sat quietly beside his friend Michael Dagostino in the little kitchen beneath the Australian pavilion at the Venice Biennale as Dagostino told him, \u201cIt\u2019s who you are.\u201d It was early May, and Sabsabi had just debuted two artworks: [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":24718,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13841],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24707","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-features"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24707","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24707"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24707\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":24730,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24707\/revisions\/24730"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/24718"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24707"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24707"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/momus.ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24707"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}]