What's New in New York Art?

In February of 2024, celebrated Illustrator and children's book author Patre Mathers and her husband Michael mailed letters to dozens of friends and family members to let them know they had died by suicide. Dear Hunnies, this is goodbye. By the time you get this letter, both Petra and I will be dead. Next stop, Wonderland. Why did they do it? And what did it do to the people they left behind? Listen to death of an artist wherever you get your podcasts. I came away from the show in general a bit worried actually there's a question that the exhibition poses around the limitations of certain kinds of connections. And it did make me think about how tight and maybe even airless are some of these circles of ideas in these discourses. I'm Ben Davis and this is the Art Angle, a podcast from Artnet News. We're in the hot dog days of August awaiting the new art season to kick off in September. In the meantime, I thought we might take the temperature of art in New York looking at two big museum shows that opened earlier in the year and that seek to highlight new voices from the city. So we will be talking about Greater New York, the important show at moment PS1 in Queens that comes once every five years. This time out, it has over 53 artists and collectives from the Big Apple stretched across several floors of the museum and is certainly worth checking out before it closes its several months run later this month. It's gotten generally very positive reviews will see what we think and the other show we're going to be talking about is the seventh aim biennial at the Bronx Museum of the Arts. It's called forms of connection and features art by the last two classes of the museum's artist in the marketplace program. That's a year long career accelerator and professional development seminar. It takes on 14 artists based in New York each year. So it's good chance to see what styles and themes emerging artists are looking to now to be taken seriously. There's been quite a lot of angst recently about art in New York and this is our chance to see how healthy it actually looks and also to see if they're exciting new figures to watch emerging from the mix. With me to get into it is Danielle Jackson the critic writer researcher teacher and returning art angle guest who is working on an article about the aim biennial for our net news. Hello Danielle hi Ben so i know a little bit about what you think about the aim biennial i think we should start there because it's the one that people might know less. We went up there together maybe to get us going just just give people a sense what it feels like and. What you thought about it off the bat first impressions so the theme or the question of the banal is around forms of connection and whether the institution itself. Can serve as a place to connect various populations to connect artists to connect to local audiences in particular. Public's they may not be thought of as art going public's I imagine some of the subtext there and by extension the work feels very much oriented to. Community practices as you walk in you see three somewhat life size paper mishays sculptures by a pair of penisoto which depict a teacher and their students and you also see a scene of a bus stop and you'll find other sort of like local familiar community settings just an initial introduction of the show as you move through it I believe you see kind of crystallization of a number of ideas that have taken hold with. Artists who have either position themselves or their work is being outside of normal art discourses and that arises and ideas like cyanotypes and photo realistic painting domestic interiors you sort of ideas which we can talk about later but I felt that this show really kind of organized all these ideas into one nugget which may you know invite some questions around what does that mean for a program. That is thinking about how to position artists in the larger marketplace so let me just ask you right off the back you're up in the Bronx you mentioned the uneasiness with the museum that struck me immediately they have a quote on the wall about the museum despite being a complicated place to hold space is important to me. And yeah I think the penisoto work underlines that it's about community it's a very celebratory like holding space for communities kind of vibe. I mean I would say my connection to the Bronx is that I moved there about 15 years ago to start this organization that trains photographers and photojournalists and filmmakers and was a very immediate kind of hyper local understanding of how residents in otherwise residential neighborhoods connect to art institutions and so to your question is their tension or would have you with the Bronx museum I would say no except that it's important to understand that it's one of these institutions that if I recall. Was formed out of demands you know in the 60s and early 70s that there are culturally resident museums and universities and community colleges and this sort of thing. And sometimes the local idea of what art should be represented in those spaces is not the same discussion as what you would see in the contemporary art world and I think this show actually tried to throw both of those ideas together is sort of a reflection on you know maybe decade plus of these sorts of social practice and other expanded practices that attempt to work with people and think about people. Yeah actually it's interesting because the pieropini is an artist that is shared with the greater New York which we'll talk about later. And so I think although you know there's a specific thing in the Bronx about trying to represent the Bronx community and feel resident with that there is this general conversation around museums and art in general that is trying to split the difference. Between some kind of like edgy you know avant-garde not really the word anymore but you know kind of individualistic art practice and community based work and I see that as attention in both these shows yes we can get into it. Were there any works that you particularly connected with in this show. Yes I enjoyed Jordan Cruz's opportunity for stillness which is a park bench that has been cast in red wax from the kind of votive candles that might be found in an internal domestic altar common practice in the Bronx and you also see these candles outside in certain situations as well. And it's a very bright red which to me signaled kind of playfulness but also a kind of emergency flare and it's shaped it sort of appears to be melting so there are two kind of divots in it and I think it's changing shape over time we had a very hot summer at times. It's interesting you connected with the material that's very interesting to me because I would say maybe a pet peeve mine in these shows. And since this is a show about professional practices worth flagging is this is kind of like because I say so symbolism that you get a lot where it's like artists working with personally charged materials personal archives or like found stuff from the street and then the label will come in and tell you. It's like a construction net so it signifies confinement right and I always like well does it though I mean is it really does the work say that yeah or is that just your personal association so it's interesting that you as someone who's in the neighborhood kind of actually did connect with the candle reference immediately. I'm just mentioning that it told me that it's about the votive candle but you know it's a park bench yeah no absolutely I mean it's a park bench which would be recognizable to anybody who lives in New York. It is an example of the way that certain ideas are becoming collapsed so the domestic but it's also a very clear signifier of New York City life and I did feel that throughout the show and this was one example that there's sort of this overlay of you say is because I say so that this is about I think in this piece it said like spiritual care and ritual and to me it meant something totally different. Yeah it's like an interesting object it's an interesting object it's life size it's melting it's red sort of popped it's very clean a lot of the work in the show is very rough you. And even though it's sort of melting and changing shape I found that to be interesting kind of intervention into this object it's very familiar. Yeah it's changing shape I should say in a way that it doesn't immediately say to me like it's melting it's actually kind of an enigmatic looks like there waves going through it or something. It's kind of an altered but found form and yeah I thought that was compelling. I guess I liked the work that's back to back with that by artist named Kiarita the messenger's pew 2025 which is a found piece of furniture as I understand it and then I think this artist always paints on found objects from the street. Yeah a lot of found objects in both of these shows a lot of scrappy stuff but this is a pew it has an image of a sort of naked figure on the back of it facing away from you it has a Bible set on the bench and you can kind of tell that the bench was a found object. And I just thought that the work had a lot of pathos I like the way it was painted I thought there's something to this style of working with found stuff that transcended just a kind of scavenger aesthetic I don't know did you connect with that piece at all. You know it felt familiar and I'll go back to the point I made earlier this show felt like the crystallization of the key touch points that a lot of young artists I think are relying on again and again and again. it again. For me, the pew, the Santa Biblia evoked southern ritual spirituality, which is another of the core themes. I came away from the show in general a bit worried actually. There's a question that the exhibition poses around the limitations of certain kinds of connections. And it did make me think about how tight and maybe even airless or some of these circles of ideas and these discourses. What do you mean connections, though? Community connections? And connections of these artists, like artists are emerging and relating to one another, sharing ideas, circulating ideas, circulating themes, circulating ways of working. I feel like the show checked all of the boxes of what I've come to expect to see ways in which I'm seeing young artists kind of work and the kind of like found assemblies and calls to church culture and religion and the mention of the grandmother, you know, like there were just so many of these examples throughout the show that felt limiting to me in a way. And it made me wonder about how artists were thinking about how to position themselves. And there were what I think what I came away feeling very strongly is what started as counter hegemonic and experimental practices. And I have here examples of aim-by-annual catalogs going back to the '90s, what we're like-- Daniel does the homework. Exciting and kind of new ways. It's now becomes totally codified, right? It's totally codified that you've got to make a very realistic drawing of a worker. You've got to bring in found materials. You have to develop some sort of claim about a relationship to the natural world that maybe has a little bit of moral superiority to it. I also found that the show's in thinking about the institution's connections to its publics, thought about the works reflect an idea of the everyday or the ordinary that is being defined in a particular way now that is different from how it might have been defined 10 years ago or 20 years ago, right? Today, the everyday or the ordinary means an ordinary person, ordinary, you know, people as audiences, but it might mean the use of natural materials, whereas maybe 10 years ago, it might have meant encounters with commercial culture, consumer culture might mean-- It's expressed by its absence. Yeah, like the everyday could mean tedium, the everyday could mean family. I think about the anthropologist Kathleen Stewart and, like, aliveness to life. Here it means a sort of like, a quasi kind of spiritualized, redemptive connection to community, nature, and tradition is what I feel from the show, which when you say airless to me, it kind of like, it's very difficult to criticize this stuff because this is continuous recourse. I have noticed in this show, which is, it's like, people really entering the discourse and the highest levels, it's like, I took this thing from my family, and here I am honoring them. Like, everything looks like kind of an alter or ritual space. And it's kind of like, like I said, because I said so symbolism, that's this kind of circle you're talking about, where it's like, well, is there any room to have other readings of it or develop it? Or other ways of thinking about the same set of ideas, right? Yeah. I'll say just before we move on, I'd say a painting that I didn't connect with at first, but kind of grew on me was this artwork by Leaky Young Kang, who's from Seoul, but lives in Brooklyn. And it's called a map of invisible dimensions, nuts by 2025. And that's referring to the Egyptian goddess nut. And at first, I didn't connect with this. It's kind of black and gray, a very enigmatic, weird, symbolic space with little hints of red. I couldn't really connect the mythological narrative to the image, myth, by the way, various references to myth, also another trope that you get kind of a simple way to ground yourself in something bigger than the art object. But I don't know, something about this, and I think the fact that it's a little intention with some of these themes, you know, it seems to be referencing world cosmologies and the abstraction of it. And I think the artist actually has a pretty interesting symbolic vocabulary. So it's a good lesson that first impressions aren't always the right impression. This particular work grew on me as I thought about this show. I also like Sangmin Lee's nostalgia without memory, which are sort of sculptures that are hanging from the ceiling, and they look like mobiles or made of printed paper and pre-bar. This is another example though, where the language around the work, well, I mean, you know, I think you referred to cultural survival and these sorts of things, felt a bit shoehorned in to the themes that were already established by the Colonizing Principle. They're kind of delicate looking. And again, it's another example where you see the rough hewn and the handmade and, you know, recirculating found materials through printer paper and making it look like it's something from nature. But I did appreciate this sort of convex shape. Well, I think we should move on to greater New York. It's interesting, some of these themes will recur, but at the same time, some of them will be a little different, which shows you that there definitely is something in the air at the same time that they're like curators trying to like mix things up. This show I did not go to you with. We went independently, so I really actually have no idea what you think. What did you think of Greater New York? How does it feel? Oh, you know, I thought there was a lot to ponder. I mean, multiple critics writing about this show. And to me, it just shows me that it's a time of angst in New York, like just immediately took the show as a referendum, as a chance to say New York is back, that like people are saying art in New York is dead and that there's a lot of scrappy vitality in this show. It's how people were approaching it and I'm not sure I totally agree with that assessment myself. Although, you know, I like this show better than some other big surveys I've seen. But I am a little unresolved to read it overall though. Yeah, I came away with a few thoughts. I felt aware of the show or the artists in the show addressing themes that they understood to be important, but perhaps didn't have a lot of direct experience with or didn't have experience with the time of like industry or surveillance or even media history. So I thought about what it meant for a younger generation to interpret the recent past and to interpret these kind of forces and culture that are persistent and still with us would have changed and they kind of have to reach back and think about it, but they don't really have the firsthand experience necessarily in the way to draw out what I would find important about those topics, for example. Okay, give me an example. So surveillance, if we think about Win McCarthy, Cameron Neal, Vijay, Masheroni in a certain sense in the video, okay, we're wearing the contraption on his head. I don't think I even saw that part of the video, but that that's fine. Oh, drive it. Those were long videos. Yeah, it felt rotoscope. So, yeah, I mean, I got this sense that there's a bit of a projection about what it was like to use a landline telephone or what it was like to encounter a police photographer in the street. And the way that sometimes these experiences are depicted or what is important about those experiences doesn't quite land with me is what it was actually like to kind of encounter those things. Okay. Or, for example, something like Win McCarthy's works with the reflective dishes that look like satellites, but they, yeah, they're sort of sculptural, sculptural of like convex mirrors. Yeah, it felt like in some ways disconnected from a history of artists who had been thinking about surveillance. It felt like a kind of entry into saying, oh, you know, we're surrounded by cameras. This happens in Vijay Mashrani's work too, which is a good place to start. And in some ways, I'm actually encouraged because I've seen through working with students and seeing other performances. I'm thinking particularly about a show by Roger Feather that I saw last year, like there is a generation of people who kind of came up after Snowden, came up after wiretapping, and their interpretation of surveillance is about social media and citizen journalism and what have you. This does feel like an attempt to recover some of the surveillance infrastructure, like it's an acknowledgement of surveillance infrastructures in a way, but in a way that feels like it's starting a few steps behind where we left off when artists were kind of thinking about that more. Yeah, well, this is a big hobby worse of yours, you know, is that the historylessness of the present. I know that you think about a lot. This is like how the digital present has kind of eaten people's historical memory. This is like very little understanding of even the recent past with new artists. I wonder if there's just a little tension in the show between this attempt to address, you know, the frighteningness of the present and all those disruptions of the present that appears in the text around the show. And then this kind of recourse to these kind of funky tactile, scrappy scavenger streets, scavenger language, which, you know, is almost deliberately removed from any kind of sense of the most unnerving parts of the contemporary tech and surveillance landscape, repressive apparatus and so on. Well, I'll make two points. The first is I find it interesting that a number of artists seem to be committed to working within very rigid, well-established systems, particularly all of the works around categorization and taxonomy. One of my favorite works actually was by Akira Ikezoi. I really appreciated this oil painting of hundreds of small symbols that he has categorized going across. It works horizontally and vertically. So, you know, there might be ways of thinking about it. about a stick or ways of thinking about a face. I think it's called parodolia, right? When you see a face and objects or ways of thinking about a round shape, you know, it might be an egg, it might be a work of art, right? Much of the other objects in that room required stepping back because they were large scale. So you did have to step forward into this work and really spend time with it because the individual shapes and the taxonomy are maybe two inches tall. - Although that I would say is generally the case, it's like everything's fussy and small and they're very few, you know, things that you watch in and you just have a gestalt experience to them where this is immediately like-- - In this show, in both shows, really. I think maybe that's why the bench stands out to you because you immediately see like this clear form that's been worked a little bit. I mean, that's just not the vibe. Everything is like tiny little things. I think that it is so it's kind of hieroglyphic painting is, yeah, a really interesting way in and worth mentioning, I think it resonates a lot right now because it takes the language of painting and then enters into these conversations about systems and information. This is also an artist who was in the Whitney Biennial. So something about this artist, people consider to be very now and I think that has to do with some kind of triangulation between craft that is painting and this sort of evocation of a data sphere that's bigger than that. So it's kind of like using craft to bring these larger systems into human reach somehow. That's very much the vibe that people are looking for is some sense of like human experience in a world that's dehumanizing rapidly. The reason why this show is resonated with people is because I think it generally works on that wavelength where it's like about a street level look at a city that feels maybe like it's operating biologics that no longer feel particularly vital from the human level. I think you get that throughout. - But I think it's interesting that the way to achieve that is through all of these taxonomies, right? So you have photographs of, for example, like Fields Harrington's collection of bicycles or you've got Rachel Hanlon's pictures of-- - Rearview mirrors. - Rearview mirrors or this sort of thing. These are works I don't find particularly strong, which doesn't have to be an issue. I think the way that they're presented individually, you could collage something like that. There's another way to work with that material, but it's, they're presented very linearly and very like each bicycle is a discrete object in a frame. I think, rather returned to all of these systems. - I wanted to ask you as the resident photo expert 'cause that's also the case of Maria Angeletti's men at work, which is this slide show of photos she took over 10 years of construction workers, she asked them to smile. Is there a name for this kind of photography where it's like just, they're less photographic objects than like catalogs of personal observations. It feels very post-iPhone as a photographic discourse, right? Your experience of them as a photography kind of involves you projecting and identifying with just the amount of time that it took to accumulate a personal archive photography in the name of it. - Well, I think the merit we're supposed to think about in that work is that some of these practices were sustained over time and it's not about the quality of the picture, which is unfortunate, I actually think. Like again, this is sort of like starting a couple steps back from other ways of engaging. - Is that because you think the aesthetic photo is connected with advertising? Is it part of this kind of like trying to remove ourselves from the technological world? - I don't even think it's that. I don't want high speed imagery that's too beautiful and compelling. - No, I mean, we will get to that. I do have thoughts on that. But no, I mean, I think it's like, what's the kind of standard from the perspective of the curators perspective? Is it just an encounter with difference? It's like a woman photographing men. You know, I think it could go deeper in my opinion. Like, okay, what about these pictures of workers? What is it that they're here in New York? So I was thinking in terms of artists who are drawing upon media from the past. I generally know how a newspaper worked from 1920 or 1909. Right, style of journalism has changed, but I know how to open it. I know how to follow an article in the columns. I know how to follow it through, right? But I get the sense with some words, like they don't know what it was like to get a three-way call on a landline. That's kind of been lost, right? So for a long time, I think you had a connective thread that media makers could generally understand how something worked, how something functioned, and what the experience was if encountering it. And now I see where there's sort of this like imagination or projection of, oh, it must have been like this or it must have felt like that. It's not grounded in experience. That's not necessarily to blame. It actually just speaks to how quickly technology is changing, you know, so like I had a student last semester say that sub-stack was different than blogs because sub-stacks are about personal writing, which meant they didn't know the blogs were about personal writing. And all of this is only like 15 to 20 years, that's not very old, right? So to your point about like the historylessness, yeah, we're in this place where there's so much of everything, there's so much change, it can be very hard to grasp what an experience with or an encounter with media or art was like. And how do you land at a reference within that? We were talking before about chat, GPT, right? It brings up examples, it's not necessarily exhaustive, it's not necessarily authoritative. Our artists approaching references that way as well, there's sort of landing on certain things or without having a full picture of where it's placed within a larger history. There's just very little art history of oak. It's like very much like people starting languages, their own languages from the beginning and sort of, in some ways, I mean, I think there are political reasons that identity is so present in these works because they really are a lot of them invoke personal experiences, personal traumas, history of migration. Although I think we're maybe moving to slightly more social projects instead of specifically about people's personal history always in this show. But I do wonder, I mean, if just like the reference to the personal comes to stand in for history, you know, where it's like history begins and ends with the self. Can you name an example from these shows? Let me tell you an artwork that I like from the show. I think Kristen Walsh, if I had to pick one artist from both these shows where I think he's a big new voice, I would say it was Kristen Walsh. She makes these machines. They're kind of ambiguous machine tabloes. They're very shiny, which I just flag as that's unusual in these shows. There's a lot of like dull looking objects. And they evoke different things. There's one in this show that evokes like an elevator going down into the ground. And it's like the apparatus on top of the elevator that's the subject of the sculpture. I believe these are found materials, but they're transformed and polished into this object. And they have little moving parts that are hidden but are kind of move around like magic. And I think to be fair that this benefits a lot from contrast. Like I said, I think there's this scavenger thing. My first reaction to Greater New York, Danielle, was I was like, we cannot go on in this vein forever of unmonumental stuff. Like I think we've been in this for so long where the vibe seems to me to be essentially stuff that looks like it's on the verge of having some kind of intention. Like stuff found on the street made in a little monuments and stuff. I think there's some argument to be made that that has to do with real estate in New York that artists in New York can't make big ambitious work. And they're working with stuff from the street. I know students have told me that. But it's really just this fact that it's on the verge of intentionality. So it's this kind of cool person aesthetic where you're like, are you cool enough to get this is not trash, but a but an important work of art. And I just see that as like we're talking about this kind of closed loop of communication. I do see it is like I have difficulty. And I am here for difficult artwork. But in terms of like introducing art to a new public, not everything can be like a scrappy little monument on the verge of looking intentional. Like there has to be some transformation into something that looks a little bit magical. And so the wall is what I'm saying. These wall machines, that's exactly the problem they're aiming at. It's like how to take everyday stuff, finish them in a way that looks magical. One of these sculptures has like a match that kind of walks around the edge of it and it takes you by surprise. It's a nice micro moment in it that's defined by its smallness. So it works with the overall fussy vibe of little piece together things. But it manages to take that and make it a little bit magical in a way that I really appreciated. I will say I think those works are hollow. Yeah. Right. To me, this was another example of like a reference to industry, like a deindustrial country. Oh, that's what you mean. Yeah, it's like I know I'm supposed to think about industry. And so I found there were examples of industry throughout the show, but it's not like a real machine. Yeah. So it's like a memory of like evoking some kind of industrial world. This was an important cultural force that is interesting. Indicline, but we're still living in the aftermath of its influence. And so here's how it shows up in the work. Interesting. Well, to me, that's. I mean, I think it's a bad thing. - I think that's interesting. I think that's interesting. We look heavy in their hollow and we live in post-industrial New York in a lot of ways. - I don't mean that it's a crime that I feel that these artists are working with this weird simulacrum of the past. I think by extension, it actually happens over time, right? I don't know how addicted phone really works, you know? Like there are some technologies that fall out of favor and what have you, but I think that the fact that so many artists seem to be taking up these topics without quite knowing where to place them leaves us on interesting ground. Like I mentioned to you the question of montage in Mary Helena Clark's work. - Yeah, I described that. - Well, so this is an 11 minute video. It's called Engram Set from 2026. And some of it is filmed with the US Mint and you're watching Coins being made. - But that's hilarious because like, you talk about themes in this show. Weirdly, the disappearance of the penny. Was that thing? - I don't know what that means. - Yeah, yeah. What do you, I mean. - Well, maybe it's what you're saying. - 'Cause it came up more than once. - Old ways of being that connect to you very tactically, like suddenly vanishing. Maybe it's about loss, I don't know. - Suddenly vanishing or vanishing because it's been decided that this is going to disappear. You know, that kind of thing. They're different. It just occurred to me watching that work and some of the VJ Masheroni as well, where when I think of older forms of montage and film, there was at least a sense that you could place where the source material had come from. Even if you had not encountered it, you might know, okay, this is taking from an industrial, this is taking from a work of animation, this is taking from a strange sort of experimental film project. Now, there's so much of everything where the references can be so. I think I framed it to you as like montage after mass culture. It's like, I don't know why these things were cut together. I don't know where this came from. This might have been initially seen by a tiny micro-micro-microculture of people. And thus, I can't quite understand what it means to put them together. Whereas in other forms of montage, if I'm thinking like, okay, I don't know what this work is, but I know what they're trying to say because I know what category of media this is, right? So sometimes with Mary Helena Clark's work, I started to feel that tension of something kind of falling apart. So you saw images produce at the mint. You saw images from like a baby education set of videos that were partly training people a little about with the industrial world. And then also you saw images from medical procedure where you're moving a coin from a child's throat, I believe. And then there were a couple other things where I was like, this is just cohesive enough. I was very entranced by it. But I did start to feel this kind of tension just to the level of the edit, right? Like what is going on? - So it's meant to be enigmatic, you think? I mean, I've found that work hard to make heads or tails of. - Yeah, being enigmatic is not the problem, right? That's always been the point of a lot of this sort of video and film work. It's more, I don't share the meaning of this clip. - Yeah. - So I don't know what your commentary is. - It grabbed you though. So it evokes the spirit that we want from art. Like not a message, but a feeling that draws you in, makes you. - Yeah, it might be the Vingo rhythmic mechanical function of seeing these coins being stamped. I don't know, you know? - I thought what was interesting about that work. And most of the videos in the show is this attempt to make them tactile. Like it's small, right? It's in like an old style. - The CRT. - Yes, CRT monitor. It reminded me of one of the works I liked a lot in the aim biennial, which is by Diana Guerra. It was about her mother's immigrant journey from rural to urban Peru and then her own journey to the United States. But it's actually kind of hard to pull out of the work itself. It's like you're saying, like there's some found footage from a German documentary about Latin America mixed together with images she took from going back to Peru, mixed from older personal archive, footage of Peru and it's all kind of mixed together. In this kind of old style feeling, it feels like archival work. There's stacked monitors. And I think that that sort of unplaceability about it is supposed to be about the fragmentary nature of these kind of immigrant voyages and how you're kind of processing different stuff together and putting together your own past. And I thought it worked. - When you say old style, what do you mean? You mean early video making? - You mean? - Well, here I expose that in my own timelessness and out of time. I mean, yeah, I would look at a lot of these works and I think they're evoking either the real past or some memory of documents from the '70s or something like that. - So to me, it was interesting to see that work 'cause I also was interested in that work and it felt familiar to a certain style of video work about cultural dislocation. And then I went to Greater New York and saw the Maria Elena Pombo's work on this concept of Taina and there's three videos. Arquilohia, cone Alejandro and Felipe, La Invención of Time, cone Miguel and Aaron, Paussar, no Paussar, cone Miranda is the Sebastian, excuse my unforgivable Spanish. But similar three channels, these were horizontal. But again, use these similar kinds of ways of telling this story, which means you're gonna hear the voice of a child asking a question off screen. It means you're maybe gonna see some super-ate footage from something. I, again, liked the way these were sort of edited so that you could switch your attention between them at the right times. But it dealt with this idea, the site called Taina, which is thought to be one of the oldest sites I believe of habitation in the Americas. And I think it preceded the presumed crossing of the barring straight by 14,000 years, right? And so it's a reflection on lost history and time. Like at one point, we see the site on Google Maps, it zooms in, and it zooms all the way out and we see the earth. So there's something sort of cosmic about it and an epic, but we're also looking at a baseball game and this sort of thing. So that's something I call to mind when I think about these two three channel works that there is a kind of, I don't wanna say a formula, but when I speak about the aim show, like is there now just a formula to how to represent these histories? I felt like I got my answer when I got to Greater New York, which I saw after the aim show. - So there are dozens of artists in this show we could keep talking for a long time, but maybe we should end by going back to the question at the very top. We've seen both these shows. Do you feel like having seen them, the state of art in New York is healthy? - To me, it's interesting that you frame it as New York 'cause I wasn't thinking about the specificity of New York very much at all, except for the topics that really dealt with New York, like the taxi battalions and these sorts of things, but for me, it felt very global and I also felt both shows. There was like a global language, a global way of approaching ideas. So for me, the question is how are artists thinking about or approaching ideas? How are they developing discourses in community with each other? To what extent is social media framing the discourses that show up in the gallery? That's how I think about it. I didn't think about it as being specific to New York. - Okay, well, we'll leave it there with more questions to answer about what it even means to live in New York today as an artist. Well, Danielle, thank you for coming today. - Thanks for having me. - That's it for this week's episode. The art angle is produced by Sonya Manolili with contributions from Ben Davis and Caroline Goldstein. Thanks for listening and see you next week.