Carol Bove bends industrial steel until it looks weightless. Her sculptures fold, crush, and balance metal into forms that feel almost soft, set against bursts of color and polished surfaces. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, the Guggenheim exhibition shows just how playful heavy material can be.

Dyani White Hawk paints where two lineages meet, Lakota aesthetics and modern abstraction, until the line between them dissolves. In Love Language, bands of color, glass beads, and quill-like marks carry both heritage and geometry at once. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, her work asks whose traditions abstraction has always belonged to.

Jennie Jieun Lee treats clay like something alive, cracked, glazed, and caught mid-motion. Luteal Elements and Grooves fills The Aldrich with fragmented masks and vessels where color pools, drips, and splits along the surface. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, it turns the fragility of ceramic into a language for the body and its cycles.

Sherald paints Black life with quiet power and perfect poise. Her portraits glow from within—otherworldly yet unmistakably real. You feel the stillness, the grace, and the invitation to really see.

Semo turns sound into sculpture—massive bronze bells that you can touch, strike, and hear echo back at you. They ring with memory and presence, transforming the gallery into a shared moment of vibration.

Dyson’s monumental steel forms shape how you move and breathe through space. She’s thinking about freedom, geography, and the body—and how abstract art can hold all of that at once.

Pat Oleszko has spent decades turning costume, inflatables, and outright silliness into sharp cultural critique. Fool Disclosure lets the puns loose at SculptureCenter, where humor is the delivery system for something pointed. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, it proves the fool has always been the one telling the truth.

Bhabha’s towering figures feel ancient and futuristic all at once. Rough, powerful, and oddly tender, they hold the tension of survival—scarred but standing tall.

Simpson’s figures are soulful, grounded, and strong. Each piece feels like a person who’s seen something—made of earth, but full of spirit.

Girlfriend Fund is proud to support Loie Hollowell: Space Between, A Survey of Ten Years at The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum — a landmark exhibition tracing a decade of the artist’s exploration of abstraction, form, and the body. Through luminous color and sculptural depth, Hollowell transforms intimate experience into radiant geometry, inviting viewers to step into the space where emotion and material meet.

Babirye’s sculptures are proud, loud, and full of soul. Made from discarded materials, they become royal—queer monumentality at its finest.

Janiva Ellis turns myth, ruin, and cartoon into a charged landscape where Western painting collides with cultural collapse. In Fear Corroded Ape, unfinished canvases become alive again, asking what it means for images to resist resolution. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, the show revels in the messy, uncertain space between history and possibility.

Shechet’s sculptures are all personality—leaning, twisting, almost breathing. She lets imperfection take the lead, and the result is pure joy.

Walker’s imagination is razor-sharp and devastating. She unspools American myth through paper, metal, and motion—beauty as a weapon, history as a haunting.

Galanin’s work is about reclamation—of story, place, and voice. Every piece dismantles the colonial gaze with precision and quiet fire.

Tania Pérez Córdova’s Generalization intertwines absence and presence through objects that carry traces of time, touch, and narrative. Each sculpture suggests a story—what was once there and what remains.

Fifty-two voices, five decades, one throughline: power. This exhibition looks at where feminist art has been—and where it’s still boldly going.

Black Atlantic brings together five artists whose works speak to the histories, migrations, and material cultures shaped by the African diaspora. Installed along Brooklyn Bridge Park’s waterfront, the exhibition reimagines public space as a site of resilience and reclamation—where sculpture, form, and narrative move fluidly between land and sea, past and present.

Liz Larner’s Don’t Put It Back Like It Was reconsiders sculptural form through gesture, gravity, and time. Known for reimagining materials from clay to stainless steel, Larner transforms the familiar into meditations on tension and repair.

Pattern meets physics. Language meets form. Auerbach builds worlds where everything vibrates just slightly out of sync—and that’s the point.