“We live with so many hard things,” says Sheila Hicks, “that we’re crying for softness.” The pleasure, simplicity, and tactile qualities of textiles ground a new film from Louisiana Channel, which explores the ways in which fiber art remains both evocative and relevant in this increasingly digital era.
“7 Artists on Soft Sculptures” weaves together a variety of distinct approaches to textiles. Nick Cave describes incorporating found plastics, toys, metals, fringe, and more into elaborate s
“We live with so many hard things,” says Sheila Hicks, “that we’re crying for softness.” The pleasure, simplicity, and tactile qualities of textiles ground a new film from Louisiana Channel, which explores the ways in which fiber art remains both evocative and relevant in this increasingly digital era.
“7 Artists on Soft Sculptures” weaves together a variety of distinct approaches to textiles. Nick Cave describes incorporating found plastics, toys, metals, fringe, and more into elaborate suits that mask the wearer’s identity, while Icelandic artist Shoplifter shares her obsessions with brightly dyed synthetic hair, which she transforms into immersive installations.
And Kaarina Kaikkonen offers her deeply personal reason for incorporating used clothing into her large-scale installations: “When I was 14, after my father’s death, I wanted to wear his clothes,” she says. “I felt very strongly that my father is near me if I wear his clothes.” This invisible presence continues to inform her work, offering a connection to people and times passed.
Louisiana Channel hosts a trove of videos featuring artists, writers, and designers, including earlier studio visits with Shiota and Shoplifter, on Vimeo.
The Colombian artist Delcy Morelos describes her hometown of Tierralta as “a paradise full of butterflies and unpaved streets.” In the late 1960s and early ’70s, Morelos spent her days in her grandmother’s garden, running barefoot and gleaning what it meant to live in connection with the land. When paramilitary and guerrilla troops moved in, though, the region was plunged into a chaotic state of grief and fear.
In her earliest works, Morelos translated the death and destruction plaguing he
The Colombian artist Delcy Morelos describes her hometown of Tierralta as “a paradise full of butterflies and unpaved streets.” In the late 1960s and early ’70s, Morelos spent her days in her grandmother’s garden, running barefoot and gleaning what it meant to live in connection with the land. When paramilitary and guerrilla troops moved in, though, the region was plunged into a chaotic state of grief and fear.
In her earliest works, Morelos translated the death and destruction plaguing her home into two-dimensional compositions. As she details in a new segment for Art21, acrylic painting was not long her primary mode of working, and quickly, she returned to the earth, incorporating soil, straw, and grass into large-scale installations. The film follows the artist as she installs a sepulchral mound in Seville’s Centro Andaluz de Arte Contemporáneo, a former Carthusian monastery turned art museum that once housed Christopher Columbus’ remains.
Throughout the film, we witness Morelos grab gobs of straw-laden soil and affix the chunky material to a standing structure, which eventually grows a range of produce native to both sides of the Atlantic. In contrast to the space’s colonial ties, the artist’s work presents a way of creating and living that’s entwined in natural rhythms. Visitors are greeted by notes of cinnamon, cloves, and fecund soil before being enveloped by towering walls of growth. Within the vaulted monastery, Morelos’ indomitable forms offer a direct tie to the sacred and divine right beneath our feet.
“Many people believe they are in a bubble, and that is why they can do things that harm nature, harm others, and also harm themselves,” she says, demonstrating a profound sense of care for and connection to all that gives life.
This segment is part of Art21’s Human Nature episode and is available to watch on its site. Find additional films on YouTube.
For the 13th edition of Design Shanghai, Hu Yuehua presented a bold bouquet intersecting organic forms and human craft traditions. “Weaving Nature” is a large-scale composition of indigo and ochre leaves, blooms, and growths stitched together from dyed cotton and linen. Tightly nested in a wall-like garden, the individual pieces form a dense field of color and texture. Loose threads, raw edges, and tight rows of pleats radiate across the upright piece, merging evidence of the artist’s hand wi
For the 13th edition of Design Shanghai, Hu Yuehua presented a bold bouquet intersecting organic forms and human craft traditions. “Weaving Nature” is a large-scale composition of indigo and ochre leaves, blooms, and growths stitched together from dyed cotton and linen. Tightly nested in a wall-like garden, the individual pieces form a dense field of color and texture. Loose threads, raw edges, and tight rows of pleats radiate across the upright piece, merging evidence of the artist’s hand with the natural forms she depicts.
Design Shanghai concluded last week, but you can see more of the projects on display at the annual event on its website.
Like a miniature chapel with enough space for one person to stand comfortably, Judith Schaechter’s glowing installation, “Super/Natural,” invites viewers to reflect on nature. An exhibition of the same name just opened at Claire Oliver Gallery and pays homage to biophilia, a theory positing that humans seek connections with nature through an innate attraction. Schaechter celebrates this propensity with a cornucopia of florals, insects, birds, and other imaginative organic forms.
“The verna
Like a miniature chapel with enough space for one person to stand comfortably, Judith Schaechter’s glowing installation, “Super/Natural,” invites viewers to reflect on nature. An exhibition of the same name just opened at Claire Oliver Gallery and pays homage to biophilia, a theory positing that humans seek connections with nature through an innate attraction. Schaechter celebrates this propensity with a cornucopia of florals, insects, birds, and other imaginative organic forms.
“The vernacular of stained glass is one of worship and mythology,” Schaechter says. “Super/Natural turns this a bit on its head, creating a secular sanctuary for contemplating beauty, nature, and our relationship to it.” The sculpture, which comprises 65 panes and took nearly two years to complete, is topped with a small geodesic dome and stands about eight feet tall.
“Super/Natural” came about partly as a result of Schaechter’s residency at the Penn Center for Neuroaesthetics, which focuses on a sub-discipline of cognitive neuroscience concerned with how the brain processes aesthetic experiences. The artist attended lab meetings with researchers and scientists and was influenced by explorations into the “relationships between art, beauty, morality, and the brain,” the gallery says.
“My goal is to invite viewers into a deeply personal, immersive experience that explores the connections between self, nature, and imagination,” Schaechter adds in a statement. “We are ultimately connected to—not just observing—nature.”
Super/Natural continues through May 23 in Harlem. Find more on the artist’s Instagram, along with insights into her research and process on her blog.
Earlier this month, dozens of metallic discs suspended from the ceiling of a large industrial space invited viewers to immerse themselves in what SpY describes as “a continuous choreography of movement and reflection.” The artist is known for his large-scale installations, often repurposing objects like traffic cones and metallic rescue blankets to create striking urban interventions.
SpY’s most recent room-scale work, titled “Halos,” reimagined the industrial interior of a former railway-
Earlier this month, dozens of metallic discs suspended from the ceiling of a large industrial space invited viewers to immerse themselves in what SpY describes as “a continuous choreography of movement and reflection.” The artist is known for his large-scale installations, often repurposing objects like traffic cones and metallic rescue blankets to create striking urban interventions.
SpY’s most recent room-scale work, titled “Halos,” reimagined the industrial interior of a former railway-related factory in Florence—a place we typically associate with Renaissance elegance as opposed to brutalist design—as part of the city’s Bright Festival.
Three stories high, “Halos” interacts with the natural breeze that flows throughout the space, which is exacerbated by people moving around. Glimmering light further lends a sense of ethereality and even magic.
Over the course of two decades, Queens resident Joe Macken meticulously built an entire city from the ground up. In fact, he built New York City—the whole thing—one building, house, and bridge at a time. Now, his expansive scale construction is on view in He Built This City: Joe Macken’s Model at the Museum of the City of New York.
Macken began working on the 50-by-27-foot model in 2004, first in Middle Village, Queens, before moving to Clifton Park, New York. It comprises 340 individual s
Over the course of two decades, Queens resident Joe Macken meticulously built an entire city from the ground up. In fact, he built New York City—the whole thing—one building, house, and bridge at a time. Now, his expansive scale construction is on view in He Built This City: Joe Macken’s Model at the Museum of the City of New York.
Macken began working on the 50-by-27-foot model in 2004, first in Middle Village, Queens, before moving to Clifton Park, New York. It comprises 340 individual sections, each built from everyday materials like cardboard and glue, with many of the buildings constructed of balsa wood and detailed with pencil and paint. He completed the structure in 2025, and it’s now on long-term view at the museum, where visitors can walk around it and are encouraged to use binoculars to find familiar buildings and neighborhoods.
Photo by David Lurvey. All images courtesy of the artist and the Museum of the City of New York, shared with permission
You may also enjoy the “Panorama of the City of New York” at the Queens Museum, which was completed in 1964 and took a team of more than 100 people about three years to complete.
Photo by Filip WolakPhoto by David LurveyPhoto by David LurveyPhoto by Filip WolakPhoto by David LurveyPhoto by David LurveyPhoto by David LurveyPhoto by David Lurvey
From Do Ho Suh’s ethereal architecture to Kimsooja’s irridescent mirrors to Lauren Halsey’s fringed tapestry, a new book from Monacelli celebrates a broad spectrum of light and color. Rainbow Dreams features more than 200 installations, sculptures, paintings, photographs, and more that revel in the possibilities of pigment. Bound in a smooth gradient that extends to the pages’ edges, this vivid survey is a celebratory, playful object in itself.
Rainbow Dreams features numerous artists prev
From Do Ho Suh’s ethereal architecture to Kimsooja’s irridescent mirrors to Lauren Halsey’s fringed tapestry, a new book from Monacelli celebrates a broad spectrum of light and color. Rainbow Dreams features more than 200 installations, sculptures, paintings, photographs, and more that revel in the possibilities of pigment. Bound in a smooth gradient that extends to the pages’ edges, this vivid survey is a celebratory, playful object in itself.
Rainbow Dreams features numerous artists previously featured on Colossal, from Nina Chanel Abney and Nick Cave to DRIFT and Katharina Grosse, among many others. The book is slated for release on April 2, and you can pre-order your copy in the Colossal Shop.
The expression “wherever you go, there you are” is often wielded to describe futile attempts to escape hangups, anxieties, and a variety of unwanted emotions. Although this truism is typically offered as a negative, it can also be read as a positive that provides comfort and stability amid new environments.
In I Bring Home with Me, Ghanaian artist Amoako Boafo recreates his Accra studio in an architectural reproduction within Roberts Projects’ Los Angeles gallery. Boafo is known for his st
The expression “wherever you go, there you are” is often wielded to describe futile attempts to escape hangups, anxieties, and a variety of unwanted emotions. Although this truism is typically offered as a negative, it can also be read as a positive that provides comfort and stability amid new environments.
In I Bring Home with Me, Ghanaian artist Amoako Boafo recreates his Accra studio in an architectural reproduction within Roberts Projects’ Los Angeles gallery. Boafo is known for his stylized portraiture of Black people, whose skin the artist renders in swirling gestures made with his fingers. This exhibition presents a collection of paintings embedded within the life-sized replica, created in collaboration with architect and designer Glenn DeRoche.
“Floral Shirt” (2025), oil on canvas, 39.125 x 39.125 x 1 inches
According to a statement from the gallery, Boafo wanted to reflect both the “images, sounds, people, stories, and events that shape his sense of place” and how community gatherings in his studio are essential to his process. While some portraits depict imagined subjects, many portray friends, family, and public figures.
Monstera wallpaper, porous wall dividers, and floral seat covers add color and texture to the largely black, wooden structure and echo Boafo’s use of paper transfers, embroidered details, and thick impasto. Paired with his portraiture, these architectural details guide viewers through the space and capture how presence and memories shape our inner and outer environments.
I Bring Home with Me is on view through March 21. Find more on the artist’s Instagram.
“Bouquet of White Roses” (2025), oil on canvas, 81 x 66 inchesInstallation view of ‘I Bring Home with Me’“Self Portrait – Ivy Leaf Sofa” (2025), oil and paper transfer on canvas, 65 x 59 inches“Black Cycle”“Pink Dial” (2025), oil on canvas, 35.5 x 39.125 x 1 inchesDetail of “Black Cycle”Installation view of ‘I Bring Home with Me’
From a distance, the storefront appears as a nondescript convenience mart, tucked underneath the Standard, High Line hotel in New York City's Meatpacking District. Yet close inspection reveals something else entirely: hundreds of felt sculptures, all emulating the products often sold in corner stores across the city. This is the work of Lucy Sparrow, self-described “feltist” and installation artist... Read the entire article by Andy Smith by clicking above.
The post Employee of The Month: Felt A
From a distance, the storefront appears as a nondescript convenience mart, tucked underneath the Standard, High Line hotel in New York City's Meatpacking District. Yet close inspection reveals something else entirely: hundreds of felt sculptures, all emulating the products often sold in corner stores across the city. This is the work of Lucy Sparrow, self-described “feltist” and installation artist... Read the entire article by Andy Smith by clicking above.
When we think of terms like “flowing” or “fluid,” we could be referring to the nature of water, but we can also just as easily apply these concepts to our understanding of art and craft. Fabrics “pool” and different mediums converge. The nature of creativity is often referred to in terms of an “ebb and flow.” Ecologically speaking, bodies of water are metaphorically woven into the fabric of our planet. Rivers and lakes sustain an abundance of life, shape cultures, and course through history.
When we think of terms like “flowing” or “fluid,” we could be referring to the nature of water, but we can also just as easily apply these concepts to our understanding of art and craft. Fabrics “pool” and different mediums converge. The nature of creativity is often referred to in terms of an “ebb and flow.” Ecologically speaking, bodies of water are metaphorically woven into the fabric of our planet. Rivers and lakes sustain an abundance of life, shape cultures, and course through history. Amid the ongoing climate crisis, how do artists express concerns about water and the environment?
Water | Craft, a group exhibition at the Minnesota Marine Art Museum, dives into this question. The museum itself is situated on the banks of the Mississippi River and often directly engages with its expansive biological and cultural reach. Works by seven artists, whose practices incorporate weaving, pottery, basketry, glass, and textile arts, directly interface with contemporary issues of water access and cultural preservation amid climate change.
Sarah Sense, “Land, Lines, Blood, Memory 7” (detail) (2026), archival inkjet prints on Hahnemuhle bamboo paper and Hahnemuhle rice paper, wax, Arches watercolour paper, cotton thread, and artist tape
Colossal readers may be familiar with the mixed-media pieces of Tali Weinberg and Nicole McLaughlin, both of whom combine quantities of colorful thread with other materials in meditations on interconnectivity and multi-disciplinarity. Weinberg translates ecological data into tendril-like installations and abstract weavings, such as a series of three pieces from her Climate Datascapes series that visualize information about silt in the Upper Mississippi River. McLaughlin’s dramatically fringed ceramic platters reference Pre-Columbian cultures and the continuum of human history and time.
Water | Craft also includes works by Rowland Ricketts, Sarah Sense, Therman Statom, Kelly Church, and Tanya Aguiñiga. The latter is known for her intricately knotted wall works containing terracotta forms, which cascade gently to the floor. And Ricketts’ large-scale installation, “Bow,” comprises strands of indigo-dyed linen that suspend within a large gallery space, creating the effect of a current or perhaps the silhouette of a boat.
“Just as water flows through bodies, landscapes, and cultural histories, craft knowledge is passed between generations, carrying technical skills alongside cultural values,” the museum says. “The artists in Water | Craft employ traditional methods not as nostalgic gestures, but as living practices that continue to evolve in response to environmental change.”
Water | Craft continues through December 27 in Winona.
Tanya Aguiñiga, “Internal Body I” (2023), fiber, terracotta, and mixed media. Images courtesy of Volume GalleryTanya Aguiñiga, “Internal Body I” (detail). Image courtesy of Volume GalleryTherman Statom, “Pesca de la Noche” (2015), glass, mixed-media. Photo by Bailey BoltonTali Weinberg, “Silt Studies: Upper Mississippi River Basin” (2021), from the ‘Climate Datascapes’ series, woven fiber, plant-derived dyes, medical tubing, and fishing line. Photo by Bailey BoltonRowland Ricketts, “Bow” (MMAM installation view) (2023), indigo-dyed linen. Photo by Bailey BoltonNicole McLaughlin, “Confluencia (Confluence)” (detail)
Multi-colored lengths of fabric billow in the breeze in the work of Thomas Jackson, challenging the relationship between nature, human intervention, and consumerism. “Rooted in the tension between nature and artificiality, the installations pose questions about how we interact with the environment and how we might find equilibrium with it,” the artist writes in a statement.
“All of my photographs strain credulity by design,” Jackson says. “At first blush, they can appear to be digital fabr
Multi-colored lengths of fabric billow in the breeze in the work of Thomas Jackson, challenging the relationship between nature, human intervention, and consumerism. “Rooted in the tension between nature and artificiality, the installations pose questions about how we interact with the environment and how we might find equilibrium with it,” the artist writes in a statement.
“All of my photographs strain credulity by design,” Jackson says. “At first blush, they can appear to be digital fabrications, but in truth, they are entirely in-camera, printed with minimal post-production.” The undulating swathes of fabric in his ethereal photographs initially appear to float and drape on their own, almost superimposed onto various landscapes, but upon closer inspection, the images reveal taut strings holding the carefully layered sheets.
Currently, Jackson is focusing on a forthcoming book project and taking advantage of the time between major exhibitions to make new work. See more on Instagram.
A visit to Lincoln Park or the Garfield Park Conservatory is one of the outings Chicagoans rarely pass up, particularly when we need some reprieve from all the concrete and steel. Two beloved green spaces in the city, these spots boast oases blanketed in verdant foliage even in the depths of winter and house an array of specimens not native to the Midwest.
For artists Merryn Omotayo Alaka and Sam Frésquez, the immersive nature of a conservancy, with plants above and below and all around,
A visit to Lincoln Park or the Garfield Park Conservatory is one of the outings Chicagoans rarely pass up, particularly when we need some reprieve from all the concrete and steel. Two beloved green spaces in the city, these spots boast oases blanketed in verdant foliage even in the depths of winter and house an array of specimens not native to the Midwest.
For artists Merryn Omotayo Alaka and Sam Frésquez, the immersive nature of a conservancy, with plants above and below and all around, became a central point for a collaborative project. Your Birth is My Birth presents the duo’s synthetic hair sculptures, which suspend from the ceiling of Jane Lombard Gallery and splay across the wooden floor like organic growths. Alaka and Frésquez describe the exhibition as a sort of “Kanekalon forest,” referring to the brand behind the luscious material.
Installation view of ‘Your Birth is My Birth.’ Photo by Adam Reich
Five different “species” emerge in the space, including Listening Roots, Hearing Bells, Mother & Child, Stacking Pearls, and Umbra Pods. Dark, dyed locks and domed shapes are throughlines, although each takes on a distinctive form. The series are influenced by epiphytes, non-parasitic plants that make their homes on a host specimen. Think orchids, cacti, moss, and kelp.
Surging upward from lily pad-shaped discs suctioned to the floorboards, the largest sculpture is part of Listening Roots, which tethers singular shoots to a central form. This connection between smaller pieces—like the feather-duster-shaped Stacking Pearls—and more comprehensive structures recurs throughout the exhibition, gesturing toward an intimate and intentional symbiosis.
Several works also reference genetics and what’s passed down through generations, as mirrored forms emerge within the same vertical tendril. “Similar to an epiphyte and its host tree, these sculptural works have their own life cycles evoking systems of dependence and exchange, where one form sustains from another,” says a statement.
Your Birth is My Birth is on view through June 13. Explore more from Alaka and Frésquez on Instagram.
“Stacking Pearl (Adolescent) I” (2026), Kanekalon hair and steel support, 24 x 24 inchesInstallation view of ‘Your Birth is My Birth.’ Photo by Adam ReichDetail of “Umbra Pods I” (2026), Kanekalon hair and steel support, 45 x 27 inchesInstallation view of ‘Your Birth is My Birth.’ Photo by Adam ReichDetail of “Umbra Pods III” (2026), Kanekalon hair and steel support, 45 x 27 inchesInstallation view of ‘Your Birth is My Birth.’ Photo by Adam Reich