Kim translates sound into something you can see. Her work is funny, sharp, and political in the best way—turning the rules of communication inside out.

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.

Tracing Terruño presents Muriel Hasbún’s deeply personal photographic exploration of memory, displacement, and belonging. Through layered images that move between archive and lived experience, Hasbún traces the emotional and political terrain of exile, family history, and Central American identity.

At Dia Bridgehampton, Leslie Hewitt’s spare compositions and sculptural works quietly blur the boundary between photography and memory—casting the everyday into poetic resonance.

Mehretu’s paintings are storms—fast, dense, and electric. You can feel the motion and the meaning all tangled together, like cities seen from memory.

Jacqueline Kiyomi Gork turns sound into sculpture you can walk through, lean against, and even feel beneath your feet. Poems of Electronic Air transforms the Carpenter Center into a playground of sonic blankets, inflatable architecture, and stone-crunching floors. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, it’s an invitation to listen with your whole body.

Jacqueline Humphries transforms the language of abstract painting into a field of encoded gestures and digital symbology. jHΩ1:) expands her exploration of light, code, and mark-making, merging painterly instinct with algorithmic rhythm.

B. Ingrid Olson bends architecture and the body until both start to shimmer. With History Mother and Little Sister, the Carpenter Center becomes a stage for mirrored limbs, carved reliefs, and architectural riffs that press photography and sculpture into playful, feminist conversation. Supported by Girlfriend Fund, these twin exhibitions are as sly as they are structural.

Harrison’s sculptures are part joke, part critique, and completely her own. Pop culture meets fine art in a mash-up that’s as smart as it is mischievous.

Owens paints like she’s in on the joke—and maybe writing the punchline. Every canvas is part chaos, part genius, and completely alive.

Njideka Akunyili Crosby layers Nigeria and America in the same image—collage and transfer meet painting to map diasporic identity with intimacy and complexity.

Leslie Hewitt in collaboration with Bradford Young, Stills, 2016, installation view, Collective Stance, SculptureCenter, 2016. Three synchronized video projections

Leonard looks slowly and asks us to do the same. Her photographs linger on the edges of things—borders, seams, the places where one story touches another.