Solo Date: Chelsea Galleries
Celebrating 23!
Last Tuesday afternoon I found myself with nothing to do. No plans, a free afternoon with all of New York City at my feet. I’d been meaning to visit Chelsea to see some shows, so I hopped on the train down to 23rd Street and started walking. It was my birthday, and although I usually hate being alone on my birthday, I decided it might be good for me to do something challenging: see what I’d learn, how I’d feel being by myself on a day that usually means so much to me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started enjoying this ritual of comparing years—asking myself what my 23rd year will bring, what lessons I’ll learn, what I might have to teach. I used the afternoon to reflect on my 22nd year, and set quiet intentions for the year ahead.
Over the last year, I have grown to love doing activities alone. The other day I went down to the Lower East Side and explored for hours, going into vintage stores and stopping in almost every building on 9th street between 1st and 2nd Avenue. Anyways, doing activities alone has never bothered me, especially if said activities involve shopping and looking at art. My birthday was different though, as its a day I usually dedicate to being around the people I love. However, on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of a debilitating New York City cold spell, most people I knew were at work or in class (which I skipped). So I set out into Chelsea ready to see what the afternoon would bring. I'm really loving keeping track of these solo trips, finding that writing about them helps me process what I see and figure out what I like and dislike. Documenting these experiences has become something I genuinely look forward to, and I hope this space can be a kind of archive—not just of where I’ve been, but what I’ve noticed, what’s stayed with me. New York is impossibly big. You could spend a lifetime here and still never see it all. And to be honest, I’ve barely left Manhattan. The thought of everything still waiting out there—in Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx—is both daunting and exciting.
It was a cold afternoon. Wind blowing in my face and even though I was wearing gloves, my fingers had gone numb. Also, for the first time while doing an activity like looking at art, I felt unbearably lonely. But I think loneliness brings in room for self-reflection and when looking at art, makes emotions more vivid, makes the effect of it feel more intense. Before making my way to the galleries, I stopped at Urbana Cafe to get a matcha. Although it was $8 for a small (help) it was really good and warmed my hands (which made the price ultimately worth it).
My first stop was David Zwirner because I had been dying to see Dan Flavin: Grids. I'll let the work speak for itself, though I'll confess: whenever I sit with a Flavin, there's an angelic quality I can't quite name. The grid works possess something holy—energy radiating outward, light spilling beyond its tubes to cast pink and blue across gallery walls, entirely reshaping the room's atmosphere. I left the gallery with less weight on my shoulders. Grids is up until February 21st and I highly recommend that if you are in the area, step inside to see some of the best works by one of the most influential light artists of all time.
Gabriel Kuri at Kurimanzutto was my next stop. The show is titled your cost-benefit calculations which is vague considering the work on view but enticing. I later realized that Kuri juxtaposes a multitude of ideas (both physical and metaphorical) in this show, framing cost-benefit calculations as a tangible vision in the form of rock and metal. Smooth colored metal balanced on rugged rock showing the tension between industrial and natural material. The press release also suggests a chromatic system of risk assessment, placing cooler tones at low-risk and warmer tones at high. I thought this was interesting as there was no way I could’ve figured that out without doing further research. The exhibition overall was visually tart, and while I recommend it to anyone visiting Chelsea, I suggest you read up on Kuri’s intentions after fully taking in the visual stimuli of the work.
At this point, I had become so distracted critically examining the art that I’d forgotten about the loneliness that had quietly nagged at me just hours ago. For years, art has kept me company at times when I felt alone, and I find comfort knowing the creativity I see every day is still out there—that it still means something, that it’s worth something. As much as I love experiencing art with friends and family, I especially love being in galleries by myself, where I can feel a work’s true power without any distraction.
My next stop was Mark Dion at Tanya Bondakar Gallery. This show caught me by surprise. I had not been that familiar with Dion’s work but the selection on display was curated in a way that was visually fun to look at and educational as well. Dion’s work is satirical and critical of modern society, especially the hierarchies that have been maintained inside and outside of art history. The show leads with several diagrams of animals, like those you might encounter at the Natural History Museum. Examples include outlines of dinosaur skeletons and charts of natural evolution. These diagrams are marked with Dion’s notes, labeling certain bones or animals as key figures in art history, philosophy, or certain canonical art movements. The logic behind each label is not shared, left for the viewer to determine an outcome on their own. In the next room, we encounter Dion's three-dimensional work: a dodo skeleton in a glass cage embellished with found objects, crates filled with taxidermy squirrels alongside stuffed toys—juxtapositions of cute and ugly, youth and age. Unfortunately, this exhibition is no longer showing but if my description interests you, I recommend you look into Dion’s work and attend a show of his in the future.
Leaving Tanya Bonakdar, I felt grateful for the privilege of living somewhere art is this accessible—where stepping outside and wandering can lead to something genuinely moving. New York's galleries offer endless discoveries tucked into every nook and cranny of the city. My advice: if you're feeling lonely or have an afternoon to fill, go to Chelsea. Walk into a few galleries that intrigue you or if you’re in a rush, look in through the windows! Exhibitions change weekly, and you never know what will surprise, comfort, or inspire you. Art for can be an amazing distraction and if you are really looking, you can find something relatable or touching in any work you see. My intention for 23 is: instead of sulking on empty feelings, take the initiative to learn something new! Get out into the world and be curious, make observations. Educate yourself, build your taste, and find a silver lining on the dreariest of days.
The next three shows, I also recommend you all go see. I ended up going back to Chelsea the next day and loved these!
Louise Bourgeois: Gathering Wool at Hauser & Wirth (up until 18 April 2026)
Jeff Koons: Porcelain Series at Gagosian (up until 28 February 2026)
Pier Paolo Calzolari: Saudades at Marianne Boesky Gallery (up until 28 February 2026)
And some exhibitions I want to go see that I could not make:
Anish Kapoor: Mirror Works at Lisson (up until 11 April 2026)
Sol LeWitt: Works from the 1960s at Paula Cooper (up until 28 February 2026)
Michael Heizer: Negative Sculpture at Gagosian (up until 28 March 2026)
Yuko Mohri: Falling Water Given at Tanya Bonakdar (up until 23 April 2026)
See you next time! Xx Lucy
I did a show with Mark Dion at The Aldrich years ago…group show. Love his work…quirky and eclectic.
Great recs and love your insights and take moments for yourself👏