Solo Date: LES and Tribeca
Critics/Promoters Edition
Instead of having class on Wednesday 3/18, my professor gave us an assignment to go to her selection of galleries and write a critical and promotional response to one of them. So, I decided that I would have a little fun and bring you all along! I started by taking the train down to the Lower East Side and emerged from the underground to find a staircase with my name written all over it (literally).

This serendipitous event and the sun shining on my face were good omens for the adventure I was about to have! I started at Maxwell Graham Gallery to see their show on two foundational conceptual artists: Hans Haacke and Louise Lawler.
Promotional Response: This show embodies the power of symbols and contingency depending on the space they are exhibited and who the audience may be. Putting commercialism aside, Maxwell Graham targets accessibility by including Haacke’s We (all) are the people (2017/2026). Previously exhibited at documenta in 2017, the work was displayed the form of a postcard free for visitors to take with them when they leave the gallery. This flyer—translated into 37 different languages—reads the very words of the work, commenting on immigration and again, accessibility of art dependent on which country it is being displayed in. Louise Lawler’s work continues this discussion with her work, Alizarin (Terrorists are made, not born), 2023, a simple red arrow on white painted plywood, hung in the corners of the gallery space. This show is relevant and makes a statement on our current political climate in the United States, definitely worth a visit.
Critical Response: All I have to say here is that this exhibition will be very hard to make sense of if you do not do research beforehand. The press release does not include enough information so you must know who these artists are and what they’ve done in the past to fully understand the weight of their work. This claim basically counters the gallery’s target to accessibility and inclusivity by placing the burden of interpretation on the viewer rather than providing the necessary curatorial framework to support a broader public.



After taking a postcard and leaving Maxwell Graham, I checked my location to see if there was any good shopping around me. To my (not really) surprise, a store I’ve been wanting to check out was right around the corner. That store was Desert Vintage, a beautifully curated vintage store that looks like it actually came out of the desert. Chipped and faded teal paint, an empty bathtub, old wooden floors, art, and of course the clothing pieces makes Desert Vintage the equivalent of stepping into The Alchemist or Kolmanskop, Namibia.



I wanted to stay for longer and try on some pieces but I was in a bit of a rush and needed to hit four other galleries before 6PM (it was around 3PM). I bought the new edition of the Paris Review and I started walking to my next stop. Not even 30 seconds in, I saw the storefront of Society of Cloth and stepped in. Founded on an ideology of sustainability and exposure of under recognized garment manufacturers, Society of Cloth is working towards celebrating an ethical, culturally meaningful, and unique exchange of fashion, honoring craftsmanship and artisans. I didn’t know their story when I walked in, but I was quietly drawn in by the care in the details—the clothing, the way the artworks were paired, and the jewelry all seemed to come together in a really intentional and beautiful way. Unfortunately for me, there was not enough time for me to try anything on but I will definitely be coming back!



I left the Society of Cloth and walked toward Chinatown to my next stop: Hoffman Donahue. On view was Elaine Reichek: Back Stitch, a blend of the artist’s old and new work, celebrating her commitment to the stitch—a technique that takes an abundance of trial and error, patience, and persistence.
Promotional Response: Hoffman Donahue does a strong job of providing viewers with the materials needed to fully understand Reicheck’s work. At the center of the gallery, a long glass table displays archival memorabilia, including past exhibition photographs and letters from Reicheck’s close friend, the artist Ad Reinhardt. Critical reviews from the 1980s point to the broader cultural shift toward second-wave feminism, which Reicheck engages by incorporating domestic embroidery techniques traditionally passed down through generations of women. Her work carries a quiet confidence and invites a slower, more contemplative mode of looking. The exhibition also includes several works that Reicheck began decades ago and has only recently revisited, reinforcing the significance of the exhibition’s title, Back Stitch. There is something especially compelling about an artist returning to earlier work, reworking it, and allowing it to take on new meaning over time. The exhibition feels particularly well-timed, using a re-evaluation of Reicheck’s practice as a catalyst for reconsidering feminist struggles today, especially as women in 2026 face an administration not unlike those that have historically sought to circumscribe female autonomy and public voice.
Critical Response: Although the efforts to contextualize the work were strong, the curators gave the work little space to establish itself independently. I found myself wanting more emphasis on Reichek’s technique—the meticulous planning, the moments of eventual forfeit that led her to scrap works from the late 1970s, only to return to them decades later. That process of revisiting, which the exhibition frames through the idea of the “back stitch,” feels central, yet it is not always fully foregrounded in the presentation. Reichek’s work also operates in close dialogue with minimalist artists of the period who were invested in the gradual expansion of a formal vocabulary grounded in the grid, modularity, repetition, and variation. However, her approach offers a distinct shift within minimalism: rather than reducing form through industrial materials, she distills it through labor. A stitch on a plane—threaded in and out, again and again—becomes both structure and gesture. Repetition and geometry are not just visual strategies here, but records of time, effort, and sustained attention. Greater emphasis on this labor-intensive process would have allowed the work to resonate more forcefully on its own terms. In this sense, the exhibition gestures toward the conceptual richness of Reichek’s practice, but stops short of fully allowing its material and temporal intensity to unfold in the space.



I left Hoffman Donahue and travelled through Chinatown to Canal Street. I was ravenous so I walked into William White’s storefront in Soho and lucky for me, they had just opened a café. Never in my life have I seen such hospitality in a store. The women behind the counter at the café, Brownie, saw the hunger on my face generously offered a selection of food and smoothie shakes. I ordered their grilled cheese and chocolate smoothie which were both divine. The grilled cheese came with this outstanding gazpacho and the chocolate smoothie was as good as the one I had at Erewhon last summer in LA. I sat on the couch there eating my food and admiring their selection of magazines and homeware. Shortly after, I had to continue my trip towards the Tribeca galleries but I will definitely be coming back soon.



Ok, three more galleries to go. I left William White satisfied from my meal and walked across Canal Street toward Marian Goodman Gallery in Tribeca. On view was Agnieszka Kurant: Recursion, a solo show of an artist speculatively exploring the nuances of collective and non-human intelligence, as well as the societal effects of digital capitalism, and complex models that “oscillate between biological and digital, natural and artificial, life and nonlife” according to the gallery’s press release.



Promotional Response: This show was so otherworldly I forgot I was in the present. Completely transformative, Kurant breathes new life into molecules and minerals, proving how our data and neural networks perform in an environment stripped to its core. This show is incredibly difficult to explain but my primodoral response was one of awe. Kurant worked with a multitude of studies and thought experiments examined by expert scientists, linguists, engineers, and philosophers to build a cohesive speculation on artificial intelligence as well as current environmental and political discourses. Agnieszka Kurant: Recursion is extremely relevant—signaling to the underground world of AI realities and the environmental cost that those in charge aim to keep in the periphery. Kurant also engages with scientific queries of the universal collective—what is it like to be a forest, an interweaving web of trees and roots signaling to each other the basic call for help, for survival. She says that we as individuals act as biomes. Our immune systems communicate and respond in the same ways as forests, our bodies supporting themselves in times of sickness or in need. This exhibition is definitely recommended to those who are in awe of science and plurality. I might be bias since these subjects interest me but if you’re in Tribeca, check it out, reflect, and maybe write down some raw thoughts.
Critical Response: This might be a hot take, but I think this is one of the exhibitions where it might honestly be better to go in blind. The gallery does a good job at this, providing articulate information in the press release but curating the show to feel like you are stepping into somewhere completely foreign to the context of time and energy. Kurant works with the site with her work Future (Invention) (2024/2026), words for “future” in fourteen different languages reflecting on the meaning of future or the idea of it depending on culture, language, tradition, and so on. The words reflected in the sunlight, dance throughout the space. They change depending on the light of day, contingent on time itself. It’s difficult to be critical of this show, solely due to the fact that there is so much depth to it. I need a more accurate picture on every detail of Kurant’s message.

After leaving Marian Goodman, I went to see Melissa Brown’s show at Derek Eller and Claudia Bítrán: Titanic, A Deep Emotion at Cristin Tierney. These two exhibitions were also great and worth a visit but I’m going to refrain from writing a review because they did not spark as much interest as the other three. Before my journey downtown, I added all of these shows to my map on Artwrld. If you are gallery hopping or want to make a list of current shows to see in NYC, I definitely recommend downloading the app! Thank you for reading and if you like hearing about my “solo dates” subscribe for future insights. Also, if you particularly liked one of my promotions/critiques comment your favorite so I know which one I should submit for my assignment! Xx Lucy <3



Lucy, you are such a talented writer…I look forward to all of your Substack posts!