logo
#

Latest news with #InstituteofContemporaryArt

From Brooklyn to Rome: Katie Kitamura on writing, family, pleasure
From Brooklyn to Rome: Katie Kitamura on writing, family, pleasure

Hindustan Times

time03-08-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Hindustan Times

From Brooklyn to Rome: Katie Kitamura on writing, family, pleasure

Dear Reader, I wrote Audition during the pandemic, during that tension of sharing space again with people you love, having to recalibrate those relationships. That fed into the story --- Katie Kitamura (The The Booker Prize longlist is out and our most discussed book of the year is on it! For weeks we have been obsessed with this brilliantly constructed novella. What is the truth of our protagonist's life? We don't know what to believe about this New York-based theatre actor — she is an unreliable narrator for sure — but which version of herself is 'true'? There is a war on, when we read the book. 'Art is the nearest thing to life; it is a mode of amplifying experience,' says George Eliot, and in a bizarre sequence of events, we watch this come true. We see a correspondence between the competing narratives in Audition and in life. On national television, Indian anchors declare they have won the war. On the internet, Pakistan claims it has won, having shot down Indian fighter jets. There is a third version as the US takes credit for a ceasefire, contradicting the Indian and the Pakistani versions. Reading Audition, we don't know what to believe. Is our protagonist really a mother — is the young man called Xavier her biological son? And can we ever truly know a person? It is thrilling when Katie Kitamura agrees to join us on Zoom to discuss her writing. Here are edited excerpts of our conversation — everything from the truth of this Booker Prize longlisted novella to how Katie met her writer husband Hari Kunzru, plus tips on how to get your children to read. Katie Kitamura on Zoom Thank you for joining us on your Friday morning. Can you tell us what you see out of your window? I am at home in Brooklyn, and when I look out the window, I see trees, which is surprising because I'm in the middle of a city, but in fact, the neighborhood where I live has these enormous, very established trees that are about five stories tall. Your parents immigrated from Japan when they were in their twenties. You were born in California and grew up living on the college campus at UC Davis. What was your childhood like? It was an idyllic childhood, full of reading. I read indiscriminately — Little Women and the Ellen Montgomery series, Anne of Green Gables, Sweet Valley High. We had a full shelf of Agatha Christie novels and my mother and I read them together. I loved reading those books and the pleasure remained even once you knew the solution. And that taught me about reading and pleasure — that it isn't simply linked to plot and narrative; fiction can feel like a world that you can escape into. You're married to the novelist Hari Kunzru; you're this power literary couple. And of course, we've read Hari's work, and we love it — and love yours too. So can we be a little cheesy and ask you how you met? We met a long time ago, at a dinner that Zadie Smith organised. I was working at the Institute of Contemporary Art in London. And Zadie was a writer-in-residence, and one of the things she did as part of her program was to organize a dinner with like 20 of the most exciting new young writers in Britain, and Hari was one of them. And I was not. I was not even writing at the time. I was just working, but Zadie had asked me to help organize this and also come to the dinner, and that's when I first met Hari, and we stayed friends till we got together eight or nine years later. And then, Katie, you wrote The Longshot, and it was set in the world of mixed martial arts? It received a lot of attention and readers were fascinated with this slender young Asian woman who was once a ballerina now writing about mixed martial arts. Tell us more about this experience. I was following in the footsteps of my dad, doing my doctorate, on my way to be an academic. I had never studied creative writing. Then I had this strange thought, which was that I wouldn't follow the golden rule, which is, write what you know. I would do the inverse, and I would write what I didn't know. I would try to use the process of writing fiction as a way of learning about the world. I chose to write a very masculine novel, to write about the dynamic of a relationship between father and son. When I finished writing the book, I realised that although I had done vast amounts of research, what I had really been drawing from was not just all those hours of following fighters and going to matches and studying technique. What I was drawing on was actually my own childhood and adolescence as a classical ballet dancer, the incredibly tough physical regimen of dancing three to four hours every day. Trying to write about these men and writing about training, I was actually writing about myself and my own experiences. That was the first real lesson I learned about writing fiction, which is that you're always revealing yourself in some way. You're always drawing from your own experience, whether you like it or not. So no matter how far away from your own life you write, you always end up face to face with yourself. That was freeing and helped me to continue writing fiction. I wanted to ask you about your relationship with language. Your protagonists in A Separation and Intimacies are both translators. You also speak more than one language. For the first few years of my life, Japanese was the household language. When I was five, we spent a summer in Japan with my cousins, and everybody was speaking Japanese. When I came back to the United States, I forgot how to speak English. Soon after, when I started kindergarten, the school told my parents to stop speaking Japanese to me so that I would be able to catch up and learn English. It was a terrible mistake, and today I can see it as part of this ideological programming of assimilation. Over time, my Japanese slipped away. Today I can speak Japanese, but I cannot read with any ease, and I certainly cannot write in Japanese, which is a source of real sadness to me. But I think, in a funny way, it's something that has fed my fiction because the prose that I write is in some way haunted by another language. I'm very interested in trying to find syntax and forms of sentence structure that are perhaps outside the norm for English. I use a lot of comma splices, a lot of what would be called run-on sentences, which are not technically grammatically correct, but which wouldn't be so unusual in some other languages. There was also an experience that will be familiar to many second-generation children of immigrants. If you acquire fluency in the dominant language in a country, you're often called upon to speak English on behalf of the family. There was a period when I spoke English better than my parents, and I was the one who had to order the pizza or do whatever needed doing. I think that dynamic probably led to my interest in this question of interpretation, which I explored in Intimacies. In both Audition and Intimacies, we see multiple versions of competing narratives. What motivates you to create this kind of play? When I was a very young reader, I thought my assessment of what was happening in a book was objective. Now I understand that it varies wildly depending on where I am in my life—even where I am in my day. I realise how much of my own history and baggage is involved in interpretation. To be really honest, a book can seem much better when I've had a cup of coffee! The books that have moved me most over the course of my life are the ones that accommodate multiple readings. Take Henry James's The Portrait of a Lady—a brilliant book. When I was young, I thought it was a novel about a young woman's coming of age. Later, I saw it as a novel about the tremendous disappointment of life. It's both, of course. That mutability—how a text shifts depending on the reader—is something I wanted to explore actively in this book. That meant writing a book that felt airy, with a structure big enough for both me and the reader. I didn't want to write a book where the author knows all the answers and the 'right' reader has to guess them. I don't want that kind of relationship with my reader. I wanted the book to feel more like a collaboration. Audition, for instance, is what I call a rabbit–duck novel—you can look at it one way and see a rabbit, and another way and see a duck. Couples have come to book events and said, 'I thought it was this,' and their partner said, 'I thought it was that,' and asked which one it is. And of course, it's designed to be both. The Rabbit Duck novel How did the idea for Audition come to you? It started with a headline I saw: 'A stranger told me he was my son.' I didn't read the article—I assumed it would have a logical explanation, and that wasn't interesting to me. What fascinated me was the tension between 'stranger' and 'son.' I went for a walk with a friend of mine whose son was around 24, and I said, 'This headline preoccupies me, and I don't know why.' And she said, 'That's motherhood. Every time your child returns home, it's like a stranger has walked into the apartment.' That was really the feeling I carried into the book. We're conditioned to believe in total knowledge and intimacy between partners, and I was interested in exploring how even the most universal experiences—marriage, parenting—contain moments of profound strangeness and unfamiliarity. In A Separation, the narrator finds her husband a stranger. In Audition, it's the mother–son dynamic. And I always feel the period in which you're writing a book expresses itself in the book, even without any direct references. I wrote Audition during the pandemic, during that tension of sharing space again with people you love, having to recalibrate those relationships. That fed into the story. You are married to a fellow writer. Do you discuss each other's work? We're each other's first readers, and we want to come to the manuscript as fresh as possible. So we don't talk about our work while we're writing it. Because if I explain what I hope the novel is doing, then by the time he reads the first draft, he already knows—and he's no longer the ideal litmus-test reader. And you are all readers? It's the thing that ties our family together. At all moments, everybody would rather be reading. How did you raise your children to be readers? Our children are growing up surrounded by books, and they see us reading all the time. But it's not just that. Reading is a pleasure. Our children were always allowed to read whatever they wanted. If they asked for a book at the bookshop, we would get it. They took pride in accumulating books, just like us. We also let them find the books they wanted to read. When we've tried to give them the books we loved as children, they've resisted a bit—like when my husband gave our 12-year-old son the complete Terry Pratchett collection and said, 'You're going to love these.' He didn't. But when he finds a series on his own that feels like it belongs just to him, he devours it. As a child, I felt that reading was a private place where I could feel and know things that no one else in my family did. I try to respect that with my children. If they want to read something that feels completely their own, that's actually the best way to make reading a source of deep pleasure. A Separation is set in Greece, Intimacies in the Netherlands, and each setting feels like a character. Do you travel as a family to these places? What is the experience of travel like? I like to set my books internationally—except for Audition, which is set in New York. I'm drawn to characters who have just arrived somewhere and must figure out what it means to be there—whether in terms of behaviour, custom, or even ethics. I can't imagine life without travel, and I see my children organize their imaginations around it, too. Both Hari and I teach at New York University, which has campuses around the world—especially the one in Paris, where we teach every summer. Hari has family in India, and we took our son there when he was two. I have a family in Japan. So our children have the travel bug. Even though they're still little, they're great travellers. New places give them a sharpness of observation. And finally, tell us about your next book. It's a novel set in Rome, and it's about pleasure in a way my earlier books have not been. I did a fellowship in Rome, and we lived there for six months as a family. It's a complicated place, but one filled with many, many pleasures. Our book club conversation with Katie ends leaving us with much to think about. Like what parts of our lives are performance? Which version of ourselves is the 'real' one? And can anyone—ever—truly be known? These are just the kind of provocative questions that capture the problems of our age, thus giving Audition a well deserved place on the Booker Prize 2025 long list. (Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya's Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. If you have any reading recommendations or reading dilemmas, write to her at sonyasbookbox@ The views expressed are personal)

As MFA director steps down, a look at a decade of tumult
As MFA director steps down, a look at a decade of tumult

Boston Globe

time27-06-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Boston Globe

As MFA director steps down, a look at a decade of tumult

Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up While previous generations of museum leaders were prized for their connoisseurship, sway with donors, and ability to build big, Teitelbaum has presided over the MFA as museums across the country have become arenas of cultural struggle — the battle over which stories we tell about ourselves, and, critically, who gets to tell them. Advertisement As director, Teitelbaum has had to carve a sinuous path through today's fractured cultural landscape, balancing the desires of wealthy donors, the needs of the broader community, and the demands of activists — all while caring for a world-class collection of some 500,000 objects. He sought early to create Advertisement But these successes were at times overtaken by upheaval and controversy. The MFA faced alarming allegations of racism in 2019. It suffered severe economic turmoil after it closed during the pandemic, an excruciating chapter that resulted in Activists have called on the MFA in recent years to address problematic artworks, such as Cyrus Edwin Dallin's "Appeal to the Great Spirit," which sits outside the museum. Lane Turner/Globe Staff On balance, though, the MFA looks good roughly 10 years after Teitelbaum succeeded longtime director visitor numbers recently topped 1 million for the first time since the pandemic. Still, Teitelbaum's successor, Advertisement 'Running a museum is an extremely complicated endeavor, one where you're frequently balancing competing rights, as opposed to right and wrong,' said Jill Medvedow, former director of the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston. 'Matthew Teitelbaum has really tried to lead from both his head and his heart. That is admirable and it is honest.' Teitelbaum notched a major win in 2017, when he secured Under Teitelbaum's leadership, the MFA's collection of 17th century Dutch and Flemish paintings has become the nation's finest. Lane Turner/Globe Staff 'It's all joined together by the spirit of the different ways to understand these works of art,' said Teitelbaum, who has also sought to establish definitive collections of Boston artists But Teitelbaum, who specializes in modern and contemporary art, also had some important misses. The museum, often criticized for its Advertisement 'I can't actually fully understand what happened there,' said Teitelbaum, who recently secured 'It is a necessary commitment [to newer art] that has to be evident to every visitor,' he added. 'If we don't achieve that, we will always be seen as somewhat incomplete.' Teitelbaum, who specializes in art of recent vintage, secured a $25 million grant to enhance the museum's modern art program. David L. Ryan Teitelbaum's first big leadership challenge came in 2019, when a group of Black and Latino students on a field trip Some museum supporters urged Teitelbaum to push back against the allegations. Activists clamored for reform, and the attorney general's office, then under Maura Healey, It was a defining, lonely moment for Teitelbaum, who sought to validate the students' experiences, while also holding that MFA staff did nothing wrong. 'My position very early on was that both can be true,' said Teitelbaum. 'That's where I went quickly.' But some longtime supporters, as well as staff, felt the mild-mannered director rolled over too easily. 'The museum took a black eye that some people felt was unjustified,' said one donor who asked not to be identified in order to speak freely. 'It was with good intentions, but he lost some support.' It was an education for the Canadian-born Teitelbaum, an artist's son who'd previously run the Art Gallery of Ontario. Advertisement 'I had not experienced the hardness around positions that was expressed so quickly,' he said. 'Sometimes it felt like: How will we get through this?' Teitelbaum's first big leadership challenge came when a group of Black and Latino students alleged racist treatment while on a field trip at the museum. Danielle Parhizkaran/Globe Staff The museum eventually entered a Teitelbaum also launched a host of efforts geared at democratizing the museum, including a robust paid internship program, community forums about upcoming exhibitions, and two new positions dedicated to community engagement and belonging and inclusion. Questions of racial sensitivity tested him anew in the fall of 2020, when the MFA, along with three other prominent museums, announced they would postpone a jointly organized career survey of Philip Guston that included his cartoon-like depictions of the Ku Klux Klan. Their reason: The museums needed time to reconsider the show given the racial tumult that followed George Floyd's murder. The decision was met with howling derision in the art world, where the postponement was described as When the exhibition The MFA, along with three other major museums, was widely criticized for postponing a comprehensive survey of Philip Guston over concerns about the artist's so-called Klan paintings. (City Limits, 1969. Oil on canvas.) Lane Turner/Globe Staff Three years later, that criticism has largely faded, and Teitelbaum is often praised for his sustained effort to open the MFA to new audiences. Advertisement 'He's really grounded us in the city, and brought people in who had not really had a presence in the museum,' said honorary trustee Lisbeth Tarlow. 'It's not a bricks-and-mortar kind of flashy accomplishment, but it's every bit and more so in terms of an impact on the museum.' But perhaps the most consequential events of Teitelbaum's tenure came during the pandemic, when the MFA closed for roughly eight months. With earned revenue at a standstill, Teitelbaum presided over a painful round of layoffs, which in turn prompted staff, energized in part by the resurgent social justice movement, to join a nationwide effort to unionize. The MFA, like many museums, is still recovering from the fallout. 'Who has led a public institution in your lifetime where revenues stopped in a 24-hour period?' asked Teitelbaum. 'The catastrophic shock of that is deeper for cultural institutions than many of us imagine, and we're still working through it.' The MFA closed for roughly eight months during the pandemic, an interruption that is still felt at the museum. David L. Ryan/Globe Staff Even so, Teitelbaum asserted, he's leaving the MFA with 'a lot of momentum.' 'I feel good about the direction,' he said. He added that he plans to split his time between Boston and Toronto, though he remains uncertain about his next act. 'I'm not running away from the issues,' said Teitelbaum. 'On the contrary, my challenge is, 'How do I stay in them without a structure around me?'' But those questions would have to wait. For now, he was content to amble through some of the museum's newly renovated galleries. En route, Teitelbaum stopped off in a stairwell, where he made an unprompted offer to photograph a young visitor. As he regaled her at length with tales of the museum's founding, the outgoing director never once let on his role in shaping the institution. 'Evolution, not revolution,' was how he'd repeatedly described his stewardship earlier in the day. Now, as Teitelbaum wandered the galleries in his waning days as director, he was facing a bit of both. Malcolm Gay can be reached at

Former ICA director: What is driving Trump's venom against the arts?
Former ICA director: What is driving Trump's venom against the arts?

Boston Globe

time28-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Boston Globe

Former ICA director: What is driving Trump's venom against the arts?

Museums, theaters, orchestras, and dance companies employ hundreds of thousands of people and serve communities across the country through inspiration, education, training, and convening. At the same time, artists individually are among the lowest-earning sectors of the economy — and In the federal budget, arts funding makes up an infinitesimal fraction of spending. The NEA's Advertisement Rather, the ineffable power of the sector lies in art itself, in the creative energy it represents and releases, and in the role it has played — over and over — in amplifying issues and movements that are part and parcel of resistance and hope. Advertisement Hannah Arendt, in her 1951 book 'The Origins of Totalitarianism,' examined Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia in a way that feels all too relevant today. We learn that authoritarianism flourishes on loneliness, it offers a simplified world view divided into 'us' and 'them,' and it uses control of history and the arts as strategies to reinforce and inculcate a message of fear and obedience. Contemporary art of all kinds, on the contrary, possesses a truth-telling power to shape and narrate our shared history — a power to change whose stories are told, and by whom. The arts can speak to audiences long excluded from our walls and stages. And they are particularly important for America's young people. Today across America, cultural organizations are tackling loneliness, pervasive since the COVID-19 pandemic. Museums, concert halls, and theaters offer space for collective learning and gathering. They present programs for young people and elders that foster social interaction and creativity. And they support artists as they make and share their work with others. I recently stepped down after 27 years leading the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston. In my experiences at the ICA and with other arts organizations, I have long seen one key form of recognition of the power of arts: the recognition that almost everyone shares when they see their child, niece, or neighbor playing in the third-grade recorder concert, bringing home a drawing for the refrigerator door, or reciting a poem at school. It is the recognition of creativity at work. It is witnessing the joy of self expression. And it is the relief of knowing our children have the inner resources needed to cope with the complexity of their futures. Advertisement I trace my own career as a museum director to early exposure to the arts: first in after-school painting lessons, and later in visits to the Yale University Art Gallery in New Haven, my hometown — where my world exploded as I encountered painting and sculpture from around the world and across time. These were truly aha moments that have lasted a lifetime. That is one reason why programs for young people have been central to my work. The ICA launched its Many arts and museum education programs in the United States have long been supported by federal grants, now being dismantled by the Trump administration. Support for the arts is an investment in our nation's long-term creativity. It is vital for the immediate survival for many arts organizations and individuals and for the recognition that the arts sustain us all. Equally important, though, freedom of expression is a tested antidote to a single authoritarian voice, determined to isolate and divide us. That is why the arts, in all their glorious forms, are both so feared and so necessary.

Free things to do Memorial Day week: Self-defense, museum admission, and burgers
Free things to do Memorial Day week: Self-defense, museum admission, and burgers

Boston Globe

time25-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Boston Globe

Free things to do Memorial Day week: Self-defense, museum admission, and burgers

CULTURE, COMPED This Memorial Day, tickets to enter multiple local cultural favorites will be free. The Museum of Fine Arts invites all Mass. residents to join guides, curators, speakers, and artists for a day of tunes, connections, and interactive activities, including the opportunity to make your own embossed metal sculpture. The Institute of Contemporary Art in the Seaport will also grant free entry for guests who want to explore innovative art with a view. May 26. MFA, 465 Huntington Ave. ; ICA, 25 Harbor Shore Drive. Get Love Letters: The Newsletter A weekly dispatch with all the best relationship content and commentary – plus exclusive content for fans of Love Letters, Dinner With Cupid, weddings, therapy talk, and more. Enter Email Sign Up LIFE IS A CABARET If you're not a fan of the large, rowdy crowds at concerts or festivals, the cabaret may be the musical immersion you've been waiting for. At the Club Café, these live music experiences are a common occurrence, and next Tuesday, the bistro will feature Crystin Gilmore, who also performs in SpeakEasy Stage's play 'Jaja's African Hair Braiding.' The triple-threat actress, singer, and dancer will perform from a repertoire of soulful classics, including tunes by James Brown, Aretha Franklin, and Billie Holiday. May 27, 6:30-7:30 p.m. 209 Columbus Ave. Advertisement SUNSHINE BEATS If you missed out on tickets to this year's high-demand (and costly) music festivals, no need to fret. The Esplanade Association is teaming up with the Department of Conservation and Recreation once again to host the GroundBeat Concert Series. Local musicians and artists will take the stage at the Hatch Memorial Shell for concerts across three more weeks, including this Wednesday's lineup of world sounds including reggae and Caribbean jazz. May 28, 6-8 p.m. Charles River Esplanade, Hatch Memorial Shell, Beacon Street and Beaver Place. Advertisement BOP TO THE TOP Whether you're graduating this year, in the future, or passed the milestone long ago, there's nothing like watching Disney's 'High School Musical' to evoke toe-tapping nostalgia. At Trident Booksellers & Café, attendees can reminisce on the angst and elation of their school days at the bookstore's free screening night while singing along to those classic hits. May 29, 7-9 p.m. 338 Newbury St. Downtown Boston burger joint Big Grin will be giving out free burgers to the first 100 customers this Saturday for National Hamburger Day. Handout T ASTEFUL HOLIDAY This week, the country celebrates another important holiday: National Hamburger Day. At The Lineup, a downtown restaurant collection, Big Grin, the location's burger joint, will be serving up free burgers to the first 100 customers. Even those who miss the limited giveaway won't walk away hungry — vouchers for free crinkle-cut fries are a welcome concession. May 31, 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m. 115 Federal St. EN GARDE Knowing self-defense techniques can make a difference in a dangerous situation, and the City of Boston and the NAAAP are teaming up to provide a free defensive action and de-escalation workshop. Verbal, nonverbal, and physical skills will be taught by Nic Emmons, owner of Waltham's On Point Krav Maga martial arts school. May 31, noon-2 p.m. 161 Harvard Ave #13b, Allston. Advertisement LOVELY MEETINGS Cambridge's romance bookstore, Lovestruck Books, will be hosting an event with five writers, giving local bookworms the chance to meet their favorite authors — or maybe fall in love with new ones. In attendance will be Aashna Avachat, YA author and Harvard alum; indie writer Caroline Frank; purveyor of gothic stories Cat Scully; Elle Thrasher, a romantasy writer; and self-proclaimed 'Kitchen Witch' Dawn Aurora Hunt. May 31, 3-5 p.m. 44 Brattle St., Cambridge. The annual Beacon Hill Art Walk will fill the historic neighborhood with art this Sunday, June 1. Handout ART WALK The first day of June means more than just the steady approach of summer. Next Sunday, the Beacon Hill neighborhood will inaugurate the new month with free art demonstrations, including outdoor galleries, live music ranging from folk to classical, and displays of various styles and mediums. These displays will be scattered across the Hill, with starting points at 135½ Charles St. and the corner of Cambridge and West Cedar streets. June 1, noon-6 p.m. Beacon Hill. Send info on free events and special offers at least 10 days in advance to . Marianna Orozco can be reached at

ICA Miami showcases pioneering female artists this spring
ICA Miami showcases pioneering female artists this spring

Miami Herald

time06-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Miami Herald

ICA Miami showcases pioneering female artists this spring

Things To Do ICA Miami showcases pioneering female artists this spring (Photo by Marc Domage) At the Institute of Contemporary Art, Miami, the future is female – at least as far as its upcoming season goes. The art museum in the Design District, which recently announced a major expansion, will stage exhibitions on two pioneering female artists starting in May. Open since May 1 is a comprehensive retrospective of Colombian-born Olga de Amaral's work. The show came to Miami from Paris, where it debuted at the prestigious Fondation Cartier pour l'Art Contemporain last fall, and delves into six decades of work from the fiber and textile artist. 'Olga de Amaral is someone who really revolutionized weaving and textile art,' says curator Stephanie Seidel. 'At first (she) made more fabrics and designs for architecture and interiors, but then developed an independent language of tapestries out of that.' 'Bruma D1,' 2018 Linen, gesso, acrylic, Japanese paper, and wood220 × 90 × 200 cm. Olga de Amaral. Casa Amaral, Bogotá. (Photo courtesy of Lisson Gallery) Though the show is meant to span de Amaral's entire career, Seidel says the inclusion of two recent series of works is quite exciting. The Estelas ('stelae'), sculptures covered in gold leaf, are meant to evoke ancient Mesoamerican landmarks, while the Brumas ('mists') are a sort of three-dimensional deconstruction of a traditional tapestry, suspending stings of colorful fabric from the ceiling and create patterns that shift depending on viewpoint. The show also includes important large-scale works, one of which has a local connection. Coraza en morados, from 1977, was commissioned by Miami's Art in Public Places program and displayed in Miami International Airport. 'We're excited to bring this show here in light of this connection, and obviously this influence of Latin America that is very present in a city like Miami,' says Seidel. 'It's exciting to showcase her work here. And there's other loans from local collections included in the show that were not part of the Paris show.' Olga de Amaral, Casa Amaral, Bogotá, Colombia, 2013. (Photo by Diego Amaral, courtesy of ICA, Miami) De Amaral studied architecture in Bogotá before studying at the Cranbrook School in Michigan, where she absorbed influences from the Saarinen family and other modernists. This background allowed her to create fiber and textile art with a sculptural, three-dimensional presence. Her work gained her recognition in the art world; she became the first Latin American woman to show at the Lausanne Tapestry Biennial in 1967, and two years later was part of a major group show of textile artists at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The architectural theme is also present in the exhibition design, a 'forest' inspired by the views from the ICA's third floor galleries that also references de Amaral's work. The design was headed up by Paris-based Lebanese architect Lina Ghotmeh, whose resume includes the famed Stone Garden residential tower in Beirut and, most recently, the Bahrain Pavilion at the Osaka Expo 2025. 'Núcleo 1,' 2015. Linen, gesso, acrylic, and Japanese paper, 130 × 180 cm. Olga de Amaral. Casa Amaral, Bogotá. (Photo by Diego Amaral/courtesy of ICA, Miami) Another all-encompassing show opening on Saturday, May 10 is dedicated to the late Mildred Thompson, a pioneering yet underseen African-American artist who worked in a variety of mediums. A born-and-raised Floridian originally from Jacksonville, Thompson began her art studies at Howard University and from there embarked on a career full of exploration. Her work explores a broad range of interests, everything from the microbiology of the human body to the infinite cosmos. Mildred Thompson, 'Radiation Explorations 6,' 1994. Oil on canvas Overall: 97 ½ x 143 ⅝ inches; three panels. The Mildred Thompson Estate. (Photo courtesy of Galerie Lelong & Co. ) 'I think there's just this incredible curiosity and understanding of these abstract phenomena,' says Seidel. 'Some paintings, they could be like a super crazy microscopic view of an atom, and then others feel like you're looking into the vastness of space. But to come up with a language to capture this is really kind of what connects all of it.' That breadth of topics is also reflected in the range of mediums Thompson worked in. Much of the show will consist of paintings, from her Music of the Spheres series which celebrates the planets to the Wood Pictures made from salvaged materials that recall architectural facades. But the show also includes music by Thompson. An original electronic music composition called 'Cosmos Calling,' which Seidel calls 'a journey through the soundscape of space inspired by the NASA Voyager recordings,' will be played in the galleries. Though the shows were not planned to be interlinked, Seidel believes visitors will find connections between the female artists. Mildred Thompson, 'Music of the Spheres: Mars,' 1996. Oil on wood. Overall: 96 x 144 inches; three panels. The Mildred Thompson Estate. (Photo courtesy Galerie Lelong & Co.) 'I think there's always interesting dialogues,' she says. 'Olga and Mildred, they're all roughly a similar generation, which I think is interesting because it shows extremely diverse approaches to making art, which is super exciting for me. So it's rather like opening up, for lack of a better word, the kaleidoscope of all these options to explore and offering just a very broad view of what contemporary art can be.' If you go: WHAT: 'Olga de Amaral' and 'Mildred Thompson: Frequencies' WHERE: Institute of Contemporary Art, Miami, 61 NE 41st St., Miami WHEN: 'Olga de Amaral' and 'Mildred Thompson: Frequencies' (opens May 10). Both through Sunday, Oct. 12. COST: Free INFORMATION: 305-901-5272; is a nonprofit media source for the arts featuring fresh and original stories by writers dedicated to theater, dance, visual arts, film, music, and more. Don't miss a story at

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store