The Art of Becoming

Theresa Volpp

Theresa Volpp is a painter exploring the perception of painting itself, having had a background with graffiti art. She studied at Kunstakademie Düsseldorf in the class of Katharina Grosse. Volpp is currently working on her new exhibition with painters Clare Price and Goia Mujalli, opening in London in November.

Left - Deconstructed silk dress by Ottolinger, slippers by Aeyde, jewelry her own

Right - Suede leather college jacket, polkadot silkblouse, wool cullottes, all by Celine

"I came to painting and art when I started to be bored with the standardized aesthetics of graffiti. I felt the need to evolve personally regarding my paintings. Being shot at Tierpark was a nice opportunity for me to look back to my journey of becoming an artist. I painted my first subway there around 12 years ago when I was at a very different point in my life. After having finished my MFA at Goldsmiths in London I wanted to move back to Germany. The only real option for me regarding art and friends was Berlin. It was and is the only city in Germany I can imagine living in. I’ve been living here for about three years now. I was completely in love with Berlin when I arrived, but after three years I’m more aware of the development of housing prices as well as of the persistently low salaries."

Berlin might appear cheap when you come from New York, London or Paris, but the low salary puts living in the city in a different perspective. I love my neighborhood of Schöneberg, the diversity and the freedom to walk around however you want, no matter if it [means] a fetish latex dog suit or no clothes at all. I haven't seen such a big range of crazy, ugly, funny, weird outfits in a lot of cities before, and I love how nobody really cares about it. Because it's Berlin. Every surrounding one is living in influences and informs the work. I definitely do different paintings here than I used to do in London. In Berlin, I always found the strange mix of architecture very strong, the clashes and breaks which seem to be fundamental for the whole city. It’s visually outstanding.

The main aspects of my work are definitely color, scale, and movement. Movement of a brush, a spray can, an oil pen. The different stages a body can reach, different levels of power and pace working on a surface. When I started studying in the class of Katharina Grosse in 2016, I consciously worked on forgetting about most things I learned—how ironic. I started to think about painting in a more material-based way again, instead of justifying everything I started to enjoy the act of painting again. It was a relief for my way of painting and for me personally. I grew up in a small village with around 600 to 700 inhabitants in the south of Germany. I realized quite early what it means to be constantly watched and to be judged on for not fitting in the picture."

Marius Glauer

In 2010, Marius Glauer co-founded the artist-run gallery Heit in Berlin, which he was part of until 2017. His work is neither painting nor sculpture nor digital, but something in between. He just opened his show "GLAUER JOIE DE VIVRE“ at Fructa Space in Munich, which he describes as "a moment when dopamine begins to dance, and we fall prey to euphoria."

Left - Houndstooth wool jacket and cordoroy pants by Wales Bonner, short-sleeved silk shiry by Edward Chruchley, jewelry his own

Right - Pinstrip suit in navy and a brown tie-dye silkshirt by Dunhill, jewelry his own

"Rüdesheimer Platz is an old neighborhood in the district of Wilmersdorf, West Berlin, where my father’s family is from. As a kid, he was playing in the ruins around Rüdesheimer Platz. The Siegfriedbrunnen where my picture was taken was one of his playgrounds that was not destroyed during the war. Back in the 1980s, I would also play there. Surprisingly, it feels like my personality and life developed in parallel to the city’s maturation. Berlin kept on progressing and merging in many aspects at the same time as I became an adult. When I was a teenager in Berlin in the 1990s and early 2000s, Berlin was too—gnarly, driven and wild! Now we are both professionalizing. What I love about Berlin are its progressive cultural vibes and the spirit of growth as well as the limitless expansion of new ideas. The worst would be if we cannot protect this.

In Berlin, I now work steadily and concentrated. Over the last couple of years, I have set up my personal infrastructure to produce and present my work. This is essential for me. When I lived and worked in NYC, my workflow accelerated a lot. I loved the speed and energy as well, and I was greatly inspired there too. I think I would work similarly well there. My creations blur the lines between high and low, abstract and concrete, organic and digital, serious and ironic, sexy and obscene. In terms of material and discourse, I am ambitious to cover the full range of anything and everything that can be considered photography. My particular point of interest is the threshold between digital photography, sculpture and painting.

Berlin is the place to be! Humans living free in an open-minded, multicultural and affordable city in a secure and vividly political country. We are the heart of modern Europe. Here, I work closely with the wonderful writer Simon Elson, the amazing curator Christian Ganzenberg and my companions, the artists Gernot Seeliger and Linus Dutz. Many other creatives from the program of Heit Gallery are part of my close network. I also admire the work of Clara Brender (Sprüth Magers Gallery), Diandra Donecker (Villa Griesebach) and my wife Kiki Albrecht, with whom I share a deep intellectual relationship.“

Clara Brender

Clara Brender has been working with renowned gallery Sprüth Magers since 2014. In her current role she is connecting esrablished as well as up and coming artists with potential collectors. Sprüth Magers represents artists like John Waters, Stephen Shore and Cyprien Gaillard.

Left - Silk top by Rianna + Nina, earrings by Toga

Right - Silk top by Rianna + Nina, earrings by Toga

"The road where my picture was taken under the bridge once led through two countries—East and West Germany. Coming from one side of the hip Berlin centre, one suddenly slips unnoticed into pure roughness. In former times, the great Jewish family Loevy owned the most important bronze foundry of Berlin. They worked closely with Peter Behrens, Walter Gropius and the Bauhaus. Today, only the family grave nearby reminds us of this part of the past. A few metres further Theodor Fontane is buried. I visit this part of the city very often. It is a place that has been forgotten about its importance in history. When you move to Berlin you are confronted with Berlin's size and long distances. It feels like a never ending puzzle of unknown corners und endless suburbs. Instead of finishing this puzzle, you just get used to it. These long journeys between important spots are a result of the former division of Berlin. During this time, everything existed twice: two parliaments, two zoos, two art academies, two cultural centers. The result: you travel twice as long, and that's fine too.

Soon, Art Week 2019 will start in Berlin. Almost all galleries will have an opening, and the Art Berlin fair will take place in the former Berlin airport Tempelhof. Exactly 70 years ago, the Candy Bombers flew over this airport. Today, a lot of pigeons fly around at night in this huge building. I moved to Berlin because of the opportunity of an internship at Sprüth Magers. I will never forget one of my first tasks: organizing production material for the artist John Bock, a typical vienna saussage! John Bock often works with organic material, and I have admired his work ever since. I grew up in Cologne. It is said that Cologne has ugly buildings and the friendliest people in the world. In fact, I like ugly post-war architecture, and I laugh a lot. In the 1980s, Cologne was one of the most influential cities of art. That's also where Sprüth Magers has its roots. Now Sprüth Magers has its exhibition spaces in Los Angeles, London and Berlin. Kölsch‘, the famous Cologne beer, tastes just as good here.

In my role at Sprüth Magers, I am at art fairs, visiting collections and galleries, on the computer in front of catalogues, in museums and on the telephone. In the art world, you communicate a lot. I am in constant dialogue with curators, young collectors and those who want start collecting, and of course always, with the artists. The actual moment of a sale is usually the end of a long process of personal talks, consultations and exchange. There are always new aspects of interest, individual taste and space to consider. The great thing about working with contemporary artists is the opportunity to accompany the different stages of new artworks and then try to find the right collection or place. When an artwork is handed over after a successful sale, it is placed anew, and then something happens. I love how works of art behave in another environment, how they communicate.“

Robert Grunenberg

Opening his own gallery a little over a year ago, Robert Grunenberg quickly made himself a name, bringing together the coolest curators, artists, and often, photographers. For his upcoming exhibition during Art Week Berlin, he has invited Precious Okoyomon and Quinn Harrelson who have organized a group show around the themes of entanglement and faith.

Left - Wool coat and patent leather pants by GMBH, cotton shirt by Our Legacy, jewelry his own

Right - Grey tailored wool suit, white shirt and shoes, all by Celine, jewelry his own

"The reason I moved to Berlin in the first place is a simple one: love. For the first two years I had hard time settling in. I just finished my masters degree in London. I thought I would find a job in the art world in Berlin. That was an illusion. I worked as a waiter while writing for art publications, like Frieze and Monopol. Berlin has an obscure pace. Other metropolitan cities force you to go with their fast flow; in Berlin you need to craft your own way. That can be confusing and tiring at the beginning. Today, I feel this freedom has helped me to acquire a set of different skills, a combined knowledge of writing, networking and selling. I’m not sure if Berlin is still as full of freedom as it used to be. Free and open spaces in the city are vanishing—alternative infrastructures of organizing cultural events, too. Housing is getting expensive. The idea of freedom is marketed by the city itself. It’s commerzialized through a billion euro club industry, though the urban myth lives on. Many young people are enticed to move Berlin.

What is still true: Berlin does have a different pace than any other city. The Berlin flow interrupts your patterns of perception, and you will get inspired by things that surprise you. You meet new people, or you find a quirky business model in an unpopular space. Berlin can help you look away from succesful patterns from the past, and instead, create. Today, for the art world here, I find it important that the interesting and unconventional players of the Berlin art scene work together more closely. For instance, the Gallery Weekend—a very successful project that is now copied in many other cities in the world—was started in 2005 by galleries who organized it privately to create synergies and establish a new model of a market place without the help of the City of Berlin. Now, Berlin benefits from the impact that Gallery Weekend has [in terms of] international reputation and tourism. In a globalized world, the future is collaboration.

I opened my own gallery in spring 2018. This is also where I was photographed for this story. It has a become a platform for artists, culture and community. Every day I learn and make less mistakes, so it’s a constant change. Therefore I also look at the art world and the industries around it differently. I think we live in interesting times. It’s urgent to anticipate cultural and technological change. Don’t react. Instead, anticipate and create. I am like a spider in a web of artists, collectors, curators, academics and people from press. I am navigating and mediating between the different parties. Some of the people are asymmetrical to each other, which makes it exciting to build bridges, communicate and create a better understanding of each other. Around the artists, I am building a gallery program with exhibitions that I hope appear to be sensual, dedicated, urgent, daring, beautiful, seductive and meaningful."

Jeewi Lee

Jeewi Lee is an alumna of Universität der Künste Berlin, the city’s most influential art school. Her work tends to fluctuate between photography, sculpture and performance. For her new project called "Ashes to Ashes,“ she made about 500 soaps from the ash and charcoal of a burnt forest in Tuscany. She also constructed paperworks that are imprints of the burnt trees. "It is talking about the phoenix phenomenal,“ Lee says.

Left - Nylon coat dress by Simone Rocha

Right - Embroidered dress by Renli Su

"It was important for me to be photographed in my own studio. It is a place where fulfilment and humility meet, where emotions like passion and hate clash. This ambivalence makes the place important. The greatest thing in Berlin is that there is a place for everybody with every kind of lifestyle. The sad thing about Berlin is that gentrification is knocking on the door. All the authentic places in Berlin have to close down, and a concept-store and pale ale bar are opening up. I’m happy that the city is still full of great and inspiring people. For me, that includes my gallerist Jan Philipp Sexauer, but also my artist friends like Mischa Leinkauf, Fabian Knecht, Ana Lessing Menjibar, Eva Vuillemin and Henri Haake. They are my great mental supporters.

I spent a part of my childhood in Berlin. So when I moved back here as an adult, I came back to my roots somehow. I kind of grew up in the back garden of the University of Fine Arts Berlin when I was a kid, because my parents studied there in the 1990s. Later, we were back and forth between Korea and Germany, mostly in Seoul and Berlin. Coming back, I remember feeling that Berlin was quite apocalyptic in the beginning. Then it became the most pleasant and inspiring city for me. Even if the city is changing rapidly right now, I´d say that Berlin is still a very open city of freedom with a lot of different co-existing bubbles.

Environments are always influencing work a lot, and it does in my work. I think in Berlin, I do very conceptual-based work even if I study painting. I think you can feel and taste an Asian and European cultural mix quite well in my works. I am very interested in bringing the past to the present and questioning absence and presence. Many of my works deal with leftovers and traces in a physical way, but also in a metaphoric way. In the past years, I hope I've changed [in terms of] opening up borders of thinking and experimenting with different materials.“

Art

A Night at MOCA

Esteemed guests such as contemporary artist Paul McCarthy, rockstar Kim Gordon, and director Ava DuVernay were in attendance, where the dinner kicked off with a captivating performance by the rhythmic beats of the Makoto Taiko Japanese drum ensemble. The museum was adorned with fantastical installations and mesmerizing projections, transporting attendees to underwater realms and lush garden landscapes. Notable among these were Schneider's enchanting Dendrite Bonsai and Tide Piepool sculptures, adding an extra layer of allure to the ambiance. While guests shared space MOCA's Board Chair, Maria Seferian, remarked on the importance of the night. "Max's presentation asks us to look beyond the maudlin and instead consider the miraculous. Returning to the artist-designed MOCA Gala is an idea about a relationship between artist and museum, not intended to privilege or position any one artist, but rather continuing a conversation rendered mute without each of them."

As guests mingled and finished their dinners, multi-Grammy nominee St. Vincent commanded the space with a beautiful performance. The atmosphere in the room bore witness to the profound significance of the arts and the invaluable contributions of MOCA within the local Los Angeles community and the global artistic community at large. "Artists serve as both mirrors of the present and portals to other futures," said Johanna Burton, The Maurice Marciano Director of MOCA. "With Max's radical transformation of our Gala and St. Vincent's incredible performance, the night allowed us all to come together around art and artists as some of the most powerful messengers of our time. It represented the heart and soul of what MOCA is about."

Artists serve as both mirrors of the present and portals to other futures.

After the dinner and performances, the festivities continued with the After-Party, where musicians Kilo Kish and Kitty Ca$h took over the DJ booth, keeping the night alive with their beats. A post-dinner snack of petite burgers and fries circulated, providing a delightful late-night treat for partygoers. Laughter filled the air as guests danced and enjoyed each other's company, marking the joyful conclusion of MOCA's annual Gala.

Explore the night below and make sure to visit MOCA the next time you’re in LA.

Art

The Devil’s Chestnut at Phil Callery

April 12, 2024

Louis Shannon and Philippe de Sablet met in New York more than a decade ago, through the underground music scene. Back then, Louis was running the now defunct but storied downtown art collective Luck You, with friends he grew up around in lower Manhattan and touring with various punk bands. Phil was attending underground concerts and eventually befriended Louis through mutual friends. The two mostly admired each other from afar, as collaboration was hindered by distance. Louis has been occupied with building his gallery Entrance from a guerilla basement space to a semi-institution on the Lower East Side. Phil, on the other hand, has been developing his own practice and operating Phil Callery, a relaxed hub for DIY shows in Lincoln Heights, Los Angeles. In February, the long overdue collaboration finally arrived, thanks to Louis being in town for Felix. The Devil Chestnut, a group show organized by Louis and Phil at Phil Callery, opened on February 27th.

By Qingyuan Deng
Imagery courtesy of Entrance and Phil Callery

The group show is many things. Its minimal installation belies a sense of brevity that can also be found in the rather esoteric press release. Simultaneously, there is an aftermath to viewing the show that lurks nearby. A militant intention that cannot be easily resolved, if you will. Z. Susskind’s plexiglass installation Gloves (2024) which spells out ‘gloves’ in all capitalized letters embodies such militancy well. Through its black reflective surface, one sees the still industrial landscape of the neighborhood. Pop meets opacity here. Another Susskind work Time, the Old Cashier (2024) more casually plays with weight and lightness, gesturing toward unseen physical acts. Phil Davis’s C-Print photograph Ciara (2003) points to the uncomfortable gap between self-fashioning and the real, a gap that exponentially explodes in Carmel Ni’s Pilgrim shoe (2024). Elsewhere, paintings by JPW3 (Patrick Walsh), Sara Gernsbacher, and Kate Mosher Hall all enjoy varying degrees of raciness, bordering a frenzy in some cases and presenting more subdued qualities in others. Still, words cannot do justice to the feel-good line-up — rising stars and superstars who are friends of both galleries fleshing out fundamentals of their practices without a care.

Ravenne Swaner
Unfolding, 2020
Oil on canvas
16 x 20 in

Phil Davis
Ciara, 2003
C-Print
7 x 9 in

Congratulations on The Devil’s Chestnut to both of you! I heard the opening was a buzzy success, tell us more about how this exhibition came to be!

Louis— I was always a fan of Phil Callery, even though I had never actually been there. Phil and I were very close friends in New York. And I’d always dreamt about going to a Phil Callery opening and there’s no better way to go to an opening than putting on a show there. In terms of timing, Entrance was heading west for Felix, which is our first operation on the west coast. This little window of opportunity opened, and we decided to sneak a show in there at the same time.

Phil— Luckily, I held on to the space, as a sublet for friends’ studio space. It was very easy to jump back in.

Louis— The mission behind Entrance, in a way, ran parallel to what I recognized was happening at Phil Callery, even though our timing was a little different. Now Entrance has grown into a gallery with a rigorous program, the need to do fairs internationally, and the want to help artists grow. The same ethos of making room for experimentation and new voices and honoring an artist’s practice is still at the foundation of both of those galleries.

I heard that, leading up to the exhibition, you two took a weeklong road trip from New York to LA. What was the road trip like?

Louis— It was incredible, both functional and fun. In the art world, it's very hard to get any time off, so we decided to take a little bit of extra time across the country. We took Route 66 and visited artists and a lot of old-school American roadside attractions along the way. Many people visit land art when they’re traveling, but we wanted to visit the world’s biggest mailbox.

We were also picking up artworks along the way for The Devil’s Chestnut. It was an adventurous treasure hunt. We visited some friends in Pittsburgh that run a project space called ROMANCE, and visited one of Phil's best friends, the artist Zach Armstrong in Dayton, Ohio. Every day, we would only decide a certain amount of driving time and what to have for dinner that night. We had burgers in Tulsa and barbecue in St. Louis. It’s good to get perspective away from the coasts and know that culture and art exists across the United States.

Jack Shannon <em>Spoon 14</em>, 2023 Oakwood 12 x 7 x 2 in — Jack Shannon *Spoon 14*, 2023 Oakwood 12 x 7 x 2 in

Kate Mosher Hall <em>Forever Long</em>, 2023 Acrylic on canvas on panel 16 x 20 in — Kate Mosher Hall *Forever Long*, 2023 Acrylic on canvas on panel 16 x 20 in

Carmel Ni <em>Pilgrim shoe</em>, 2024 Plastic, polyester and foil Dimensions variable — Carmel Ni *Pilgrim shoe*, 2024 Plastic, polyester and foil Dimensions variable

Ravenne Swaner <em>Gate</em>, 2021 Oil on canvas 24 x 30 in — Ravenne Swaner *Gate*, 2021 Oil on canvas 24 x 30 in

Jpw3 (Patrick Walsh) <em>Plot A</em>, 2024 Stainless steel wood paper ash twigs cardboard dust leaves 12 x 9 x 20 in — Jpw3 (Patrick Walsh) *Plot A*, 2024 Stainless steel wood paper ash twigs cardboard dust leaves 12 x 9 x 20 in

The Devil’s Chestnut felt like a homecoming journey that intimately revisits both galleries’ history. How does it feel to mount a very personal presentation exhibition, while two major art fairs were happening.

Phil— The installation process was intense for me, because I had to figure out how to accurately use this very intimate space, which almost became part of the exhibition. Things calmed down afterwards. Louis, while you were deep in the art fair, I was tucked away at the gallery, which functioned as a little rest stop away from the fair chaos.

Louis— The Devil’s Chestnut is a hometown group show that celebrates new voices and the history of the space. Phil Callery has always been an inviting space that mixes high and low. On the opening night, the biggest movers and shakers in the Los Angeles art scene and customers of the taco shop next door were at the gallery. The gallery originated in a very definitive moment in the Lincoln Heights, Chinatown area, where a lot of artists had their studios, and where a lot of people would visit after work. Night Gallery was founded right next door to that space, which has now grown exponentially to a real force in LA.

What are some of your observations about the neighborhood Phil Gallery is in and LA’s art scene?

Phil— Lincoln Heights is weirdly resistant to gentrification and has stayed how it was when I left. I like that a lot.

Louis— There's a lot of camaraderie between artists, which I really appreciate. Artists tend to go to each other’s shows and studios a lot more. Also, by nature of having so much more space, LA attracts artists who have a lot less fear about working at a larger scale.

You two met a decade ago in New York, while Louis was a member of the downtown collective Luck You and Phil was visiting underground concerts. Can you tell me a bit more about that post-Great-Recession moment of participating in the art scene in downtown Manhattan, where a lot of cheap real estate was readily available.

Louis— I just came out of high school when I joined Luck You and some members of our collective were still in high school. We were really focused on what people were making locally and we weren't thinking about the larger art world. We were just trying to put our friends’ projects on. We started in what is now the lower-level gallery of Entrance, back then it was really a clubhouse. We would also use abandoned spaces in the neighborhood to put on shows. I don't think we were necessarily aware of an economic downturn in the neighborhood, which was mostly food distribution and clothing shops. The collective did our best to respect the community that was immediately around us. We would work with our neighbors, invite them to shows, and respond to their noise complaints. Then, the art world seeped in, as we all sort of grew up out of the collective.

The collective wasn’t really interacting with anything outside of our local neighborhood community. Sometimes people would pluck us out and drop us into centers of the art world, because we had a story that can be told. The collective insists on art as a way of living rather than a job and I still live by that to this today.

Phil— Phil Callery started as my studio. I was just having friends over every night drinking beer and playing dice. One day, I decided to give my friends shows in that space. The gallery just came out of that need. At the same time, I was visiting New York frequently, as Night Gallery’s preparator installing their art fair booths. That's how I met Louis, it turns out I went to high school with his then roommate.

Now, many of the artists in The Devil’s Chestnut are superstars showing with powerhouse galleries in LA. Both Entrance and Phil Callery are spaces of experimentation and collaboration for emerging artists. So much labor is embedded into being an incubator, but often such labor is under-appreciated, as we live in a cultural moment of “bigger is better”. Tell us more about how you keep up with this spirit of experimentation with integrity and good faith.

Phil— For me, the goal was never to get to a place. I was just thinking about what I can do that’s interesting, fun, and stimulating. It’s hard for me to even take credit for any kind of integrity that may exist there. I’m just wired to just have a good time and keep doing interesting things.

Louis— Authenticity seeps out when you’re doing the next right thing. I love running Entrance, because I believe that the mission that I started with is scalable. A lot of the artists that I am working with had never shown before, and now have a career as artists and can make work for a living. I am always trying to make room for new voices. My favorite thing is when I meet older curators or gallerists, who have been in the industry for say 50 years and are still excited when they walk into a room and see something new. They're not jaded and have stayed curious. And I think that curiosity is scalable, in terms of elevating voices that matter. Phil and I got that curiosity from our days of touring in bands, where we witnessed so much craziness.

Phil— Entrance is like almost the sustainable progression of what Phil Callery could have been?

Louis— Right, how do you take a gallery to the next level without basically becoming like some stock exchange and selling out? I never worked at a big gallery and have retained that sensitivity to the community around me. So has Phil Callery. If you mentioned Pill Callery in LA, everyone always remembers good memories of shows they have seen or the time they spent there. You can't ask for much more than that in this world.

Sara Gernsbacher <em>Untitled</em>, 2024 Oil acrylic and graphite on canvas panel 14 1/2 x 18 1/2 in — Sara Gernsbacher *Untitled*, 2024 Oil acrylic and graphite on canvas panel 14 1/2 x 18 1/2 in

Mariko Makino <em>Blue</em>, 2023 Neon tubing, argon, garden wire, reclaimed oak 42 1/2 x 13 x 10 in — Mariko Makino *Blue*, 2023 Neon tubing, argon, garden wire, reclaimed oak 42 1/2 x 13 x 10 in

Zora Moniz <em>one is sacred one is business (gray, ghost orchid)</em>, 2023 Oil on canvas 24 x 18 in — Zora Moniz *one is sacred one is business (gray, ghost orchid)*, 2023 Oil on canvas 24 x 18 in

Z. Susskind <em>Time, the Old Cashier</em>, 2024 Copper, rope, steel 8 x 9 x 2 in — Z. Susskind *Time, the Old Cashier*, 2024 Copper, rope, steel 8 x 9 x 2 in

Ravenne Swaner <em>Spires</em>, 2024 Beeswax, paraffin and string Variable dimensions — Ravenne Swaner *Spires*, 2024 Beeswax, paraffin and string Variable dimensions

Art

'Door to Door' Offers a Slice of Life in Iran

April 05, 2024

In a new exhibition curated by yalla imshi, featuring works by architect and sculptor Christopher Al-Jumah, Mohammad Rezaei's photographs, "captured during reflective walks through Iranian streets," offer a glimpse into daily life distinct to that found on our own crowded streets. When Al-Jumah saw Rezaei's "Slice of Life" photography of Iran's urban and rural life, he was immediately taken by the symbols and iconography evident across doorways and houses, finding it "beautiful to see how the people had ornamented their lives." In response, Al-Jumah began crafting crude furniture piece from Persian silkwood (sourced from Bay Ridge and found on Craigslist), engraving symbols found in Rezaei's photographs onto the objects, thus bringing this exhibition to life.

Showing at 28 Elizabeth Street Floor 3, New York until April 16th, Door to Door "is a nod to the mundane that remains still in the dust painted, repainted, and repurposed with time."

By Sara Eldewak
Photographs by Mohammad Razaei, courtesy of the artist

The exhibition is accompanied by a book of Rezaei’s photography, and a series of essays and writings that respond to the photographs by writers Mnatalla Eldaas, Akram Shah, Abhi Janamanchi, Zari G, Saam Niami, and Safa Ghasemi.

Spaces breathe like silent narrators of their time. Where the everyday matter reaches a position of unity and glory to sit at the point of concentration and start a secret conversation.