Through clay and care, Reverend Joyce McDonald transforms pain into hope — her small sculptures evoke rest, resilience, and repair, breathing tenderness and power into every gesture.

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.

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.

In Seed, Rose B. Simpson presents sculpture as an act of inheritance—objects shaped by lineage, land, and the passage of time. The work moves between monument and offering, holding space for growth, memory, and the quiet persistence of Indigenous knowledge.

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.

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

In Fixed Crane, Nicole Eisenman reimagines monumentality as something unstable and deeply human. The sculpture resists clean resolution, instead lingering in tension—between humor and discomfort, strength and fragility. Eisenman’s work invites viewers to reconsider who monuments serve and what stories they quietly uphold.

Kher’s hybrids—part goddess, part creature—rewire sculpture with bindi dots, cast bodies, and bronze power. Alchemies is a deep dive into transformation, myth, and material.

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.

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.

Humane Ecology: Eight Positions brings together eight artists exploring the complex relationship between humans and the natural world. Through sculpture, video, installation, and living materials, the exhibition reveals how ecological systems intersect with memory, migration, and 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.

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.

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.

Hard Cover brings together six artists—Rose B. Simpson, Jane Irish, Sharon Hayes, Howardena Pindell, Judith Scott, and Wilmer Wilson IV—whose work explores protection, exposure, and the narratives we hide or reveal through material. Across fiber, film, clay, and collage, each artist opens a conversation on the physical and psychological covers we build to survive.

Sze’s installations are like living constellations—bits of paper, projection, and light suspended in motion. You don’t look at them, you wander through them.

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.