Spikes, fans, florets, waves, and other characteristics of marine creatures continue to shape the work of Lisa Stevens. The Bristol-based artist’s vibrant practice revolves around ceramic sculptures inspired by sea urchins, coral, nudibranchs, and other underwater organisms. Each piece is unique, with numerous colorful glazes and textures, and they often take on a fantastical quality, incorporating hybrid features that conjure associations with celestial objects, anatomy, and other facets of
Spikes, fans, florets, waves, and other characteristics of marine creatures continue to shape the work of Lisa Stevens. The Bristol-based artist’s vibrant practice revolves around ceramic sculptures inspired by sea urchins, coral, nudibranchs, and other underwater organisms. Each piece is unique, with numerous colorful glazes and textures, and they often take on a fantastical quality, incorporating hybrid features that conjure associations with celestial objects, anatomy, and other facets of nature.
Find more on Stevens’ Instagram, plus watch clay sculpting tutorials on YouTube.
In folklore, twilight is often interpreted as a liminal, even magical time during which spirits emerge in the transition between light and dark. It’s sometimes even seen as a period when extra caution is advised, as will-o’-the-wisps, shapeshifters, and fae may try to influence people in their path. For artist Nicholas Moegly, nightfall sets the scene for neighborhoods and quiet streets in which curious creatures roam, and lights flicker on in houses, signaling the end of the day.
Many of
In folklore, twilight is often interpreted as a liminal, even magical time during which spirits emerge in the transition between light and dark. It’s sometimes even seen as a period when extra caution is advised, as will-o’-the-wisps, shapeshifters, and fae may try to influence people in their path. For artist Nicholas Moegly, nightfall sets the scene for neighborhoods and quiet streets in which curious creatures roam, and lights flicker on in houses, signaling the end of the day.
Many of Moegly’s works possess a dreamy realism along the lines of photographer Todd Hido’s Houses at Night or the illustrations of children’s book author Chris Van Allsburg. There is both a timelessness and a sense that these locations could represent virtually anywhere around the U.S. Sometimes, deer and foxes meander through yards or down alleyways, glancing backward as if responding to a sound. In other compositions, lights shine from upper windows of a house or shop on a hazy street corner, although people are nowhere to be seen.
“A Suspended State”
Moegly is currently in the midst of the largest oil painting he’s made thus far, experimenting with the relationship between scale and realism in a way that’s challenging his artistic direction. He’s also working toward future exhibitions, transitioning from online releases to more in-person shows. See more on his Instagram.
“A Summer’s End”“A Constant Search”“Whestel”“An Old Friend”“An Inevitable Fate”“Eastwood”
When we think of “invasive species,” perhaps zebra mussels or kudzu vine spring to mind. Both have flourished in their non-native environments and continue to threaten other native organisms. Invasive species aren’t inherently bad—they’re just trying to survive—but by definition, they’re likely to disrupt local ecosystems and even cause billions of dollars worth of damage each year. So, what does one California city have to say about its burgeoning population of… peacocks?
Introduced by a
When we think of “invasive species,” perhaps zebra mussels or kudzu vine spring to mind. Both have flourished in their non-native environments and continue to threaten other native organisms. Invasive species aren’t inherently bad—they’re just trying to survive—but by definition, they’re likely to disrupt local ecosystems and even cause billions of dollars worth of damage each year. So, what does one California city have to say about its burgeoning population of… peacocks?
Introduced by a businessman and land baron named Elias Lucky Baldwin more than a century ago, the avian population has long called the area home. Over the years, though, as the originally open area filled with homes and commercial strips, efforts by local residents end up at odds, as some would like to protect the birds and others would prefer to see them sent away altogether. In a short film titled “Our Neighbors, the Peacocks,” filmmaker Callie Barlow traces the unusual history of peafowl in Los Angeles County through the eyes of some of its current residents.
Arcadia, California, sits in the San Gabriel Valley about 45 minutes from downtown Los Angeles. Dozens of peacocks, which are carefully watched over by some and detested by others, meander through residents’ yards, traipse around on rooftops, peck at cars, call from trees, and of course, display their beautiful feathers—especially during mating season.
In her short documentary, Barlow invites locals to share their love—or loathing—for the vibrant birds as she highlights how Arcadia’s history of protecting the birds has perhaps led to something of an overpopulation problem. Nearby neighborhoods participate in relocation programs, while Arcadia’s birds are protected, and opinions about how to deal with growing numbers land all along the spectrum.
“‘Our Neighbors, the Peacocks’ resists the urge to resolve the tension it so clearly lays out,” says Jason Sondhi, who selected the film for Short of the Week. “Instead, it leans into a modest but resonant idea articulated by its director that living alongside these animals might require ‘putting aside your own discomforts to find a deeper meaning in nature.'”
In the large-scale murals of Alex Senna, figures gather, greet one another, relax, and interact with their own shadows in bold compositions. The Brazilian artist is known for his black-and-white murals that emphasize community and emotional bonds. Togetherness, security, and positivity pervade the scenes, sometimes playful and other times more contemplative. Set against colorful backgrounds and amid urban structures, Senna’s pieces emphasize connection, support, reflection, and belonging.
In the large-scale murals of Alex Senna, figures gather, greet one another, relax, and interact with their own shadows in bold compositions. The Brazilian artist is known for his black-and-white murals that emphasize community and emotional bonds. Togetherness, security, and positivity pervade the scenes, sometimes playful and other times more contemplative. Set against colorful backgrounds and amid urban structures, Senna’s pieces emphasize connection, support, reflection, and belonging.
At the end of May, Senna embarks on a tour across Italy, France, and Spain to participate in several festivals. Follow the artist’s Instagram for updates.
Festival Monstar, Bosnia (2022). Photo by Ilda Kero“Acrobatas” (2022), Festival da Paz, Friedensstadt, Augsburg. Photo by Sebastian Buehler“A Estrela de Matusalém” (2022), Festival Gragnano, Italy. Photo by Noemi VerdolivaFestival Civita Street Fest, Italy. Photo by Alessia Di RisioFestival Stadt Wand Kunst, Germany (2024). Photo by The Realness“Solitarios” (2024). Photo by Pedro Bayeux“Atento porém Disperso” (2024), Kansas City“Baile dos Mascarados” (2022). Photo by Erib
Feline antics are notoriously chaotic. “The cat is, above all things, a dramatist,” author and Egyptologist Margaret Benson is to have said. Sacred to ancient Egyptians, domestic cats share more than 95% of their genetic makeup with tigers, and they can leap five times their height and turn into veritable spring mechanisms when startled. Also, would the Internet be the same without cat memes? For Léo Forest, these lovable, independent, wily, and territorial creatures provide an endless source
Feline antics are notoriously chaotic. “The cat is, above all things, a dramatist,” author and Egyptologist Margaret Benson is to have said. Sacred to ancient Egyptians, domestic cats share more than 95% of their genetic makeup with tigers, and they can leap five times their height and turn into veritable spring mechanisms when startled. Also, would the Internet be the same without cat memes? For Léo Forest, these lovable, independent, wily, and territorial creatures provide an endless source of inspiration for dynamic pencil drawings.
The Paris-based artist’s playful works tap into the physical and emotional quirks of cats, from brawling pairs to individuals in the midst of grooming, scratching, or attacking. Flailing limbs and blurred motion evoke Italian Futurist painter Giacomo Balla’s seminal painting, “Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash” (1912) in which a Dachsund and its owner’s feet are fuzzily multiplied to imply very quick movement.
Forest is currently working toward a project with Moosey in London, where prints are available. Follow him on Instagram for updates.
In a converted 18th-century chapel on the grounds of Yorkshire Sculpture Park, a strange form creeps through openings in the architecture. One can imagine its clipper- and knife-footed tendrils scurrying across the floor as it spills from an upper aperture and even slithers around part of the building’s exterior. Its otherworldly genesis is at the hands of Nicola Turner, known for her monumental, contorted textile installations that often surge from structures and public spaces.
Turner’s s
In a converted 18th-century chapel on the grounds of Yorkshire Sculpture Park, a strange form creeps through openings in the architecture. One can imagine its clipper- and knife-footed tendrils scurrying across the floor as it spills from an upper aperture and even slithers around part of the building’s exterior. Its otherworldly genesis is at the hands of Nicola Turner, known for her monumental, contorted textile installations that often surge from structures and public spaces.
Turner’s solo exhibition, Time’s Scythe, comprises forms made of recycled wool and horsehair, which she hand-stitches inside of mesh to create the bulging, knotted forms. “This is Turner’s first large-scale installation to use pale wool and creates a different energy to her dark sculptures, moving away from their more melancholic character,” the gallery says.
Time’s Scythe continues through September 27 in Wakefield. If you go, check out LR Vandy’s provocative exhibition, Rise, which also continues into September. See more on Turner’s Instagram, and for more twisting, creature-like forms, might also enjoy the work of Kate MccGwire.
It’s one thing to marvel at the inner workings of a transistor radio or a timepiece, but for artist Manabu Kosaka, that curiosity reaches a whole new level. Using nothing but paper, the artist makes scale replicas of cameras, watches, gaming consoles, shoes, food, and more with a preternatural attention to detail. Not only does a 35mm film camera include a strap and a back hatch that opens, the lever used to advance the film and other gears are also built into the top, some of which are even
It’s one thing to marvel at the inner workings of a transistor radio or a timepiece, but for artist Manabu Kosaka, that curiosity reaches a whole new level. Using nothing but paper, the artist makes scale replicas of cameras, watches, gaming consoles, shoes, food, and more with a preternatural attention to detail. Not only does a 35mm film camera include a strap and a back hatch that opens, the lever used to advance the film and other gears are also built into the top, some of which are even moveable.
Around ten years ago, Kosaka faced uncertainty about the direction of his work. “During that time, I spoke with a friend who works in art direction, and they suggested that I try creating with simpler materials in a more minimal way,” he tells Colossal. “That advice stayed with me, and gradually I began focusing on paper as my primary material, eventually deciding to work exclusively with it.”
35mm camera
Through a meticulous process of cutting, folding, and scoring, Kosaka creates incredibly realistic depictions of everyday objects, often with a retro twist. He carefully studies the mechanics of the real objects, disassembling them in order to replicate individual components inside. He is currently working on a model of a Playstation 2 console, which was originally released in 2000.
“What I love most about paper is its incredible flexibility,” Kosaka says. “It responds to my ideas almost completely—beyond what I expect, even. It allows me to express what I want in a very direct way, while also feeling that it can become almost anything.”
35mm cameraLarge-format cameraLarge-format camera in progressGame consoleGame console in progressGame console in progressBCL RadioWristwatchAlternate view of wristwatchDetail of wristwatchBig MacBig Mac
Until just the past few decades, textiles were generally created with only practical applications in mind. Although fiber and cloth in its myriad forms had been produced for millennia around the globe, fabrics were woven for either domestic or industrial use, and crafts such as knitting, weaving, basket- and net-making, and more were considered purely functional. Think clothing or decor. Even ornate medieval tapestries were conceived as utilitarian objects, used in stone buildings like church
Until just the past few decades, textiles were generally created with only practical applications in mind. Although fiber and cloth in its myriad forms had been produced for millennia around the globe, fabrics were woven for either domestic or industrial use, and crafts such as knitting, weaving, basket- and net-making, and more were considered purely functional. Think clothing or decor. Even ornate medieval tapestries were conceived as utilitarian objects, used in stone buildings like churches and large homes to soften sounds and insulate against the cold.
Within the canon of Western art history, in particular, the hierarchy of fine art has long been quite definite: painting and sculpture were chief among mediums. Anything else fell under categories of preparatory processes, craft, or ornament. But in the mid-20th century, that delineation began to shift. Anni Albers, who taught at the Bauhaus and later Black Mountain College, was one of the first artists to approach weaving as both a craft and an art. She laid the foundations for later artists like Sheila Hicks, Magdalena Abakanowicz, Cecelia Vicuña, Faith Ringgold, and many more. Today, artists like Bisa Butler, Do Ho Suh, Nick Cave, and countless others continue to challenge boundaries and redefine the role of textiles in art.
Chiachio & Giannone. “Conversación sobre arte” (2022), hand-embroidered quilt with cotton threads on toile de Jouy, 164 x 200 centimeters. Photo by Nacho Iasparra. Courtesy of Bendana | Pinel Art Contemporain, Paris
A new exhibition at Saatchi Gallery takes a fresh look at how fiber has become a celebrated facet of contemporary art. Textile Art Redefined is curated by Helen Adams, founder of the platform Textile Curator. Vibrant colors and patterns infuse the show with a sense of joy and optimism, while the selection highlights the broad range of approaches to different materials, such as Ian Berry’s large-scale installation titled “Secret Garden,” which mimics Delft tiles and yet is made entirely of recycled denim. And Kenny Nguyen’s large-scale wall piece, made of thousands of colorful strips of silk, appears to undulate and swirl.
For some of these artists, like Argentinian duo Chiachio & Giannone and knit designer Kaffe Fassett—who continues to work alongside his long-term partner, designer Brandon Mably—the union of art and craft lends itself to a entire lifestyle built around fiber as a form of expression, brimming with color and patterns. Colossal readers may also recognize work by Anne von Freyburg, Signe Emdal,Deniz Kurdak, and Benjamin Shine, in addition to Caroline Burgess, Sara Impey, Simone Pheulpin, Jakkai Siributr, Magda Sayeg, and Jenni Dutton. “In an increasingly digital world, creating by hand has taken on a new appreciation,” says a statement.
Textile Art Redefined continues through May 10 in London. Adams is also the author of the new book Textile Fine Art, published by Laurence King.
Anne von Freyburg, “In Flight Mode (After Fragonard, The Swing)” (2026), textile wall installation painting: acrylic ink, synthetic fabrics, PVC fabric, tapestry-fabric, sequin fabrics, hand-embroidery, polyester wadding and hand-dyed tassel fringes on canvas, 350 x 260 centimeters. Courtesy of K Contemporary Denver + Santa Fe. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneInstallation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneIan Berry, “The Secret Garden” (2026), denim on denim, dimensions variable. Photo by Debbie BraggIan Berry, “The Secret Garden” (detail). Photo by Debbie BraggKenny Nguyen, “Echo Series No. 6” (2025), hand-cut silk fabric, acrylic paint, canvas, mounted on wall, 289.56 x 332.74 x 12.70 centimetersKaffe Fassett, “Geometric Sampler” (2019), cotton and wool, 150 x 188 centimeters. Photo by Brandon MablyInstallation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneTop to bottom: Magda Sayeg, “The Machine Gun” (2017), replica of Bushmaster XM15-E2S: acrylic mix triple worsted yarn, vintage children’s sweaters, 200 x 68 centimeters. Magda Sayeg, “Yoga Balls” (2025), acrylic yarn and inflated PVC ball, approx. 55 x 75 centimeters. Photo by Pasquale ViglioneSigne Emdal, “Dreams of Gaia” (2024), Italian mohair, Shetland wool, Swedish cotton warp, gold-plated artist’s signature, 195 x 60 x 18 centimeters. Created with funding support from the Danish Beckett Foundation. Installation view of ‘Textile Art Redefined,’ Saatchi Gallery, London. Photo by Pasquale Viglione
Artists Christian Rebecchi and Pablo Togni, who work as NEVERCREW, have a knack for bringing the immensity of nature to developed urban spaces. Their colorful, large-scale murals take a playful tack when it comes to portraying animals, often merging them with other objects such as instant photos or, most recently, a plastic punch-out toy. “Souvenir,” completed this year in Vienna, combines motifs of a large bear with other Arctic components, such as icebergs, a seabird, and a steamship.
“
Artists Christian Rebecchi and Pablo Togni, who work as NEVERCREW, have a knack for bringing the immensity of nature to developed urban spaces. Their colorful, large-scale murals take a playful tack when it comes to portraying animals, often merging them with other objects such as instant photos or, most recently, a plastic punch-out toy. “Souvenir,” completed this year in Vienna, combines motifs of a large bear with other Arctic components, such as icebergs, a seabird, and a steamship.
“The natural environment appears transformed, filtered, made artificial: it is no longer a space experienced through relationship, but a distant construction,” the artists say in a statement. The work is “almost a simulation reflecting a perception of nature progressively emptied of empathy…Nature becomes something to observe, arrange, organize, as if it were a separate object rather than a system of which we are an integral part.”
Detail of “Bracketing”
Over the past few years, NEVERCREW has completed numerous architectonic paintings that depict the fragile balance between humanity and nature—specifically wildlife. Whales, bears, and elephants are depicted inside of terrariums or bundled into fabrics.
The animals’ very presence on the side of buildings, where they are contained within the bounds of the architecture, is a reminder of the tensions between—one might even say the incongruousness of—daily human activities and city infrastructure. For Rebbechi and Togni, bringing nature into these spaces highlights the importance of sustaining the relationship between humankind and nature.
“Bracketing” (2021), diptych, Jarville-la-Malgrange, Nancy, France. Curated by LeMur NancyDetail of “Bracketing”Detail of “Bracketing”“Gravity” (2021), Le Locle, Switzerland, for Exomusée“Switch” (2024), Wuppertal, Germany, for Urbaner Kunstraum Wuppertal, curated by Valentina MaoilovDetail of “Switch”Detail of “Switch”“Wire” (2023), Paradiso, Switzerland. Organized and curated by Freefox Architecture StudioDetail of “Souvenir”Detail of “Souvenir”
Where the blue sky breaks through the tree canopy or light reflects onto the surface of a pond, illustrator Masha Foya summons moments of joy and surprise. The Kyiv-based artist’s dreamlike illustrations often portray spaces and individuals in emotional or experiential states, as if the entire environment morphs into a single living being. Hands clasp over the arc of a foliage tunnel, for example, and a plane sails through an aperture shaped like a bird in flight. Seemingly enclosed spaces of
Where the blue sky breaks through the tree canopy or light reflects onto the surface of a pond, illustrator Masha Foya summons moments of joy and surprise. The Kyiv-based artist’s dreamlike illustrations often portray spaces and individuals in emotional or experiential states, as if the entire environment morphs into a single living being. Hands clasp over the arc of a foliage tunnel, for example, and a plane sails through an aperture shaped like a bird in flight. Seemingly enclosed spaces often converge with the sky or the cosmos, alluding to the boundlessness of imagination and feeling.
The work shown here comprises both personal and commissioned projects. Foya is currently working on developing a number of book covers for Ukrainian publishing houses, and she is also collaborating with Scientific American and the German newspaper DIE ZEIT. Her work is also included in two exhibitions, Illustroteka and Everything Is Translation, organized by Pictoric. See more on Foya’s Behance and Instagram.
“One Summer Morning”“Tunnel of Love”An illustration for ‘Business Insider’Postcard design for Global Wind DayA piece representing the letter “X” for ‘Illustroteka’“Whispering of the Ionian Sea”“Reflection”“Dreaming in Blue and Green Colors”“The Stork”
For millennia, humans have navigated seas, rivers, and oceans as avenues for trade, exploration, conquest, and colonization. During the Age of Discovery—an era interwoven with what’s known as the Age of Sail—European explorers and traders embarked on journeys around the world to map previously uncharted continents, trade commodities, and establish new socio-political outposts. Imperial forces competed with one another to control as much as they could, all in the name of wealth and power, and
For millennia, humans have navigated seas, rivers, and oceans as avenues for trade, exploration, conquest, and colonization. During the Age of Discovery—an era interwoven with what’s known as the Age of Sail—European explorers and traders embarked on journeys around the world to map previously uncharted continents, trade commodities, and establish new socio-political outposts. Imperial forces competed with one another to control as much as they could, all in the name of wealth and power, and individual landowners and traders profited immensely. But sustaining a presence in far-flung places would never have been remotely possible, nevertheless successful, without slavery.
Well into the 19th century, humans were transported through a vast slave network, with millions crammed aboard ships bound for various parts of Europe or North America. For London-based artist LR Vandy, the layered and often fraught legacies of labor, shipping, and trade undergird a distinctive sculptural practice.
“Spinning a Yarn” (2025). Photo by India Hobson
Vandy’s studio is based at Chatham Historic Dockyard in Kent, where the history of wooden ships is alive and well. She uses materials such as Manila rope—a thick nautical rope made from the abaca plant, which is native to The Philippines—bobbers, navigation equipment, ship’s helms, hull-shaped wooden forms, and more, to explore the tangles of maritime history.
Vandy’s exhibition titled Rise, in The Weston Gallery at Yorkshire Sculpture Park, marks the artist’s first solo museum show. Many of the works seen here are included in the show, while others represent earlier pieces. In her most recent work, the rope is a central focus as she explores its “entanglement in human history, its role in the development of civilisations, and its inextricable links to colonial enslavement of people,” says an exhibition statement. Everyday objects are repurposed and manipulated in an ongoing inquiry into process and materials, especially “drawing attention to the social, economic and political systems embedded within everyday objects.”
Anchoring the space at Yorkshire Sculpture Park is a giant, rope-covered form evocative of a maypole, nodding to historic European folk traditions that celebrate community, ritual, and regeneration. Other objects appear to spin or sway, as if skirts are swishing or invisible players move through a series of games. “My practice centres the hidden human costs of colonialism, transportation systems and commodities, and the knotted histories of trade and power they contain,” Vandy says in a statement. “The title, Rise, references ideas of resilience, protest, liberation, and collective joy explored through rituals and dance.”
Rise continues through September 13 in Wakefield. If you go, also see Nicola Turner’s dramatic exhibition, Time’s Scythe. Learn more and plan your visit on the park’s website, and follow Vandy on Instagram for updates.
In the mid-20th century, before preservation efforts revived Miami’s Art Deco South Beach neighborhood with bright colors and lavish hotels, the area was a whitewashed holiday haven for retirees. And in a third-floor room of the Colony Hotel, which looked out onto the building’s marquee and the street below, a unique artistic endeavor unfolded.
Ukrainian artist Jonko “George” Voronovsky (1903-1982) transformed his humble, long-term residence into a vibrant environment of paintings and obje
In the mid-20th century, before preservation efforts revived Miami’s Art Deco South Beach neighborhood with bright colors and lavish hotels, the area was a whitewashed holiday haven for retirees. And in a third-floor room of the Colony Hotel, which looked out onto the building’s marquee and the street below, a unique artistic endeavor unfolded.
Ukrainian artist Jonko “George” Voronovsky (1903-1982) transformed his humble, long-term residence into a vibrant environment of paintings and objects that he described as “memoryscapes.” Having endured incredible hardship amid the political maneuvers of the U.S.S.R. and the Nazis during the 1930s and 1940s, he chose to work in a bright, optimistic style that summoned idyllic remembrances from his youth. A short film by Dia Kontaxis, “George V.,” spotlights his legacy.
By all accounts, Voronovsky experienced a loving, typically middle class upbringing in Ukraine in the early 20th century. He spent his youth exploring his village and local forests, studying music, and dabbling in visual art. By the time he was a teenager, the Russian Revolution of 1917 marked the beginning of a protracted period of upheaval in Ukraine. His father died during this time, and the country entered the control of the Soviet Union.
By the early 1930s, Voronovsky had moved to Kyiv. He married in 1933 and became a father to two children. He worked as a mapmaker, and he witnessed the systematic destruction of Kyiv’s historically baroque architecture, which the Soviets replaced with the propagandistic Stalinist style.
In 1941, life would again change drastically. Hitler invaded Ukraine and took control of Kyiv. Three years later, Voronovsky and his family were forced—like many thousands of Ukrainians—to resettle in a camp. They were marched hundreds of miles to Prague, where he then was separated from his family when he was furthered on to a labor camp in Germany. Although he later sent them a portion of his wages to support them, he never saw his wife or children again.
Throughout the 1940s, Voronovsky drifted, traveling with a group called the Musical Wanderers that played in Displaced Persons camps around Ukraine. In 1951, as part of a program that eased immigration quotas in the U.S. to welcome European refugees, Voronovsky landed in New York, then moved to Philadelphia, where the Ukrainian immigrant community was well established. For a while, he found work with the railroad, continued to play music, and traveled. During the 1960s, he created some of his earliest work, a series of nude sculptures.
Eventually, due to his health and a desire to retire somewhere warm, Voronovsky took a room at the Colony Hotel in Miami Beach. Piece by piece, he filled his modest space with colorful paintings and sculptures made from wood, styrofoam, aluminum, and other found materials. These elaborate, often joyful compositions drew from his memories of Ukraine. They highlighted animals, dances, architecture, and bucolic, sunny landscapes. Completely concealed from public display, it was only a matter of chance that his work was seen from the street by a young artist named Gary Monroe, who knocked on the door and befriended the artist.
The amount of work Voronovsky fit into his space was staggering. “This little room was probably nine by 12 feet—5,000 objects,” Monroe says. Star-like forms made from drink cans covered his cabinets and were arranged around paintings. He’d use the backs of pizza boxes and magazine spreads to make his work, drawing from the post-consumer landscape of Miami Beach.
It’s thanks to Monroe that Voronovsky’s work was introduced to a wider audience, first shown in 1986 at a Miami bookstore called Books & Books. It wasn’t until 2023 that the High Museum of Art in Atlanta organized the first major solo exhibition of the obscure artist’s work, recognizing his contribution to the canon of self-taught art in the U.S.
Kontaxis’ film spotlights the High Museum’s exhibition along with interviews and archival footage. See more of her work on Vimeo.
A detail of a painting by George VoronovskyEarly carved sculptures