Perhaps I am a member of The Grief Club. For several weeks now, a small print has rested on my desk granting me that privilege — dark cobalt green, number 137 in an edition of 200, signed by Sarah Stolar. It is not a relic, nor even a reminder of mortality. It is evidence that artistic experience, when born of pain, orients us toward an identitarian core that endures even through fracture. In the act of retracing what has been lived, we might find reconciliation, perhaps even peace.

The universe is a concert of patterns. Galaxies, solar systems, and planets share elements in common and others that set them apart. The same holds true for nations, cities, and communities. Cincinnati possesses a remarkable artistic community. As I gradually come to know its members, patterns begin to reveal themselves—those that identify them as part of a universal order, and those that distinguish them from others operating in different ecosystems...

Creative anxieties: “Anxiety limits my ability to travel, but don’t tell my mom” is the subtitle Juan-Sí González gives to his recent American Playgrounds series, from which a selection of 21 images is included in this catalog from his recent exhibition at the Cleveland Print Room in Cleveland, Ohio. For an immigrant, the alternative—moving with relative spontaneity around an unknown territory, at the mercy of an alien geography and culture...

I have spoken at length with Juan-Sí. Twice in person, once by phone. About a month ago we shared a coffee, standing in my kitchen—the first guest to step into my still chairless apartment. Each time our dialogue drew to a close, after the inevitable farewell, I was left with the impression that I had merely touched the widening circle of water at the surface of a well whose depths few have known. That expanding ripple produced by such a fleeting contact is what I now attempt to turn into memory.

Contemporary war is no longer only a matter of territory and arms; it is also a visual phenomenon that penetrates homes and consciences through screens and social media. Many young people cannot, or do not know how to, shield themselves from that emotional tempest. Yet some have discovered ways of conjuring it. The photographic camera can become an extension of body and consciousness.

I hold vivid the memory of the spring of 2020, when the pandemic, near-total isolation, and the severe quarantines imposed by the government left me trapped in a suffocating mental standstill. My partner at the time managed to stay in my apartment on weekends. Among the few sources of solace that reached us within that suspended atmosphere created by the city’s restrictions were the videos of the Chinese YouTuber Li Ziqi (李子柒)...

For those arriving from South Florida—particularly from cities like Miami—Michael Coppage’s exhibition at the Annex Gallery may resonate differently than it would for a viewer from the Midwest. This is not to suggest a hierarchy of readings, but rather to acknowledge that the lived experience of Caribbean and Latin American diasporas, especially those who have made a life in Miami, offers a particular lens through which to approach this work.

Yesterday—quite late in the day—I learned of the tragic passing of the artist Rewell Altunaga through a post by Jesús Hdez‑Güero, another Cuban creator based in Madrid. Hdez‑Güero shared the article CNN published just yesterday on its digital edition. The piece, written by Ray Sánchez—a Puerto Rican journalist who once reported from Havana for the network—notes that he would often come across Rewell on the streets of West Harlem, in northern Manhattan.

Last week, at the exhibition Osy Milián opened at Galería Zapata, I told Evelyn Sosa I wanted to write about one of her photographs. I also told her that it would not be an interpretation or a critical assessment of her work, but rather of that particular image. And I did not say then—though I say it now—that if the result resembled what is known in the field as an “art review,” it would be incidental and by no means intentional. That said, above you can see the photograph in question: one that draws my attention more than any of the others I’ve kept.