Latest news with #Triennial


Boston Globe
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
On the sunny side with artist Andy Li
At the Navy Yard, a flagpole fitted with a rotating pinwheel at its midsection will project Li's upbeat vision to the world. At the top, a 4-by-6-foot homemade flag — a Li standard — stitched with the title text in lovingly handsewn font, will wave in the sea breeze. Artist Andy Li with his hand-stitched flag for the Boston Public Art Triennial at the Charlestown Navy Yard on May 13. Jasper Sanchez Li means it as a gentle exhortation to celebrate tiny victories, however minute; and with a website — Advertisement Being seen, really, is the point, Li said. 'Small moments can lead to big successes,' he said. 'So I'm saying don't discount them. Be in the moment. You can't change what happened, but you can choose what to do next. Grasp that and appreciate it.' If it sounds like self-actualization as art, well, Li is just that kind of guy. ''Today is the day' was my mantra,' he said. 'I just kept saying it to myself: 'Today is the day I'm going to get out of bed, I'm going to make myself coffee, I'm going to get through my to-do list.' And it evolved into this project. I wanted to create almost a ceremony for people to honor those moments along with me.' Andy Li's not-quite-finished 'Today is the Day' in the 'Lot Lab' space at the Charlestown Navy Yard for the Boston Public Art Triennial earlier this week. Lane Turner/Globe Staff Li's slogan could as easily be a mantra for the Triennial itself. A broad international affair that sprawls from downtown to Mattapan, Dorchester, Cambridge, and Charlestown, it's been a decade in coming, and Li has been along for the ride. A MassArt grad, he was among a cohort of Boston-based artists chosen for the Accelerator program with Starting in 2015, Now + There peppered the urban landscape with an array of contemporary art projects in 'I want to help people to find their own moments of joy,' Li said. Out there in the open with the whole city watching, the Triennial is his best bet yet. Advertisement ANDY LI: TODAY IS THE DAY A project of the Boston Public Art Triennial. May 22-Oct. 31. Charlestown Navy Yard, One 5th Street. Murray Whyte can be reached at


Boston Globe
19-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Artist Stephen Hamilton weaves generations of African tradition
Earlier this month, Hamilton's painting — titled 'Under the Spider's Web' — unfurled from the wall and over most of the floor of his Allston studio. It depicts African weavers: a man from Burkina Faso bends over his narrow strip of weaving; a Dida woman from the region of Ivory Coast or Liberia weaves a raffia textile without a loom. They're all from West Africa and West Central Africa. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up 'They are regions people were taken from during the transatlantic slave trade,' Hamilton said. The traditions he portrays have dispersed all over the Globe. Advertisement Stephen Hamilton at one of two looms that will be used in periodic weaving performances alongside his Triennial painting and textile installation. David L. Ryan/Globe Staff 'Under the Spider's Web' is dense with texture, patterns, imagery, and handwork echoing generations of African traditions. Hamilton dyed yarns for the piece in natural pigments made from indigo, red sorghum, henna, and more. Ropes that hold everything together are hand-braided and dyed. Hamilton, who is textiles for a PhD in African and African American Studies at Harvard , steeps every fiber of his art in research. He pointed to a woven passage on the right of the painted textile 'That's based off of the description from a Dutch trader in the Kingdom of Benin,' he said. Advertisement Triennial curator Tess Lukey first saw Hamilton's work four years ago at the Museum of Fine Arts – the artist had work in the ' His combination of painting and textile art grabbed her, and he was one of the first area artists she thought of for the Triennial. 'He's pushing the limits of what both of those mediums are,' Lukey said. Hamilton, 37, grew up in Roxbury surrounded by murals painted by Stephen Hamilton sorts through yarn he dyed with natural pigments in his Allston studio. David L. Ryan/Globe Staff He learned to weave during a nine-month trip to Nigeria in 2015 thanks to a grant from It's easy to think of 'material culture' as just the things a society generates, but those things can carry mythic weight . The weavers in Hamilton's painting wear deeply researched jewelry and clothing. Advertisement 'There's so much of that imagery that's so rich and complex that people don't have a visual reference to,' the artist said. 'If you're thinking about a Roman legionnaire, there's these immediate visual references that you have. When it comes to Africa, a lot of people don't have that visual reference.' Stephen Hamilton carves wood for the looms in his Triennial installation. Lane Turner/Globe Staff 'I'm very interested in exposing people to that,' he added. 'He's celebrating cloth in this incredible way that brings the past and the present together,' Lukey said. If time collapses in Hamilton's art, space expands. First, in the sheer proportion of his project — this is the largest piece he's ever made . Then, in its warm embrace of the African diaspora. 'I'm thinking about the Black community as a global Black community,' Hamilton said. 'What are these things that connect us?' One answer, he said, is a shared heritage of jewelry, wood carving – and cloth. 'This idea of what cloth represents and clothing represents for Black people is something that is much deeper than simply a physical object, or simply representative of physical appearance,' he said. 'The roots of that go back long before our time in this country, long before the transatlantic slave trade,' Hamilton said. 'There's a deeper history there.' Cate McQuaid can be reached at


Boston Globe
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Walking (and T-ing) Boston's public art Triennial
Advertisement Only time can be the judge of that, and here, in the final days leading up to its official opening, I have only best guesses (a backhoe in constant use this week at the Charlestown Navy Yard, one of the Triennial's key sites, underscored the frantic last minute preparations). While we're waiting, I'm giving my imagination a workout to fashion a walking (and occasionally T-assisted) tour of some of what I think will be the most powerful pieces soon to pop up in neighborhoods near and far. A peek at New Red Order's work in progress, being installed at Faneuil Hall for the Boston Public Art Triennial. Luna Posadas Nava The Triennial, an international affair, makes a point of embracing artists actually from here, and you'll find a triumvirate of Boston-based artists — Andy Li, Evelyn Rydz, and Alison Croney Moses — at the Charlestown Navy Yard (another, Stephen Andrews, is in Roxbury; and Lowell-based Gabriel Sosa is in East Boston). Advertisement But to start in the middle of things, New Red Order, a 'public secret society' of Indigenous American collaborators will set up at Faneuil Hall with 'Material Monument to Thomas Morton (Playing Indian),' a satirical monument to the recalcitrant Puritan-era colonist's NRO's core trio of Adam Khalil (Ojibwe), Zack Khalil (Ojibwe), and Jackson Polys (Tlingit) have made waves in the contemporary art world in recent years with their sharp parodies of colonial history and Indigenous appropriation. Faneuil Hall, a site rich with a slate of ugly colonial history – Peter Faneuil himself owed no small portion of his vast riches to enslavement – makes it a natural target for their acidic social critique. It's a short stroll from there to City Hall Plaza, where Adela Goldbard's project is New Red Order's spiritual companion. Called 'Invadieron por mar, respondemos con fuego. Un presagio. [They Invaded by Sea, We Respond with Fire. An Omen.]‚' it's a large-scale replica of a colonial tallship fashioned by Native American weavers from local invasive reeds (get it?). Part of the point of the Triennial is to affirm in the minds of Bostonians that public art need not be permanent, going against the grain of our bronze, great-man-on-horseback affinities. Goldbard's piece is not subtle in its embrace of it: At the end of its run, it will be set aflame and left to smolder and be swept away – in part an act of revenge, surely, but also a stark emblem that nothing is forever. Mexican artist Adela Goldbard harvesting reeds in New England earlier this year for her "An Allegory of (De)Coloniality, in Two Movements,' her project for the Boston Public Art Triennial at City Hall Plaza. Robert Gallegos The theme of the Triennial is 'Exchange' – evocative enough to suggest, broad enough to not dictate, both good things. A stroll south to Downtown Crossing helps make clear just how how broad it can be. Here, you'll find Patrick Martinez's neon signs positioned amid the district's baleful cluster of empty storefronts, the most outward symbol of downtown Boston's post-pandemic struggle to revive itself. Advertisement I doubt Martinez's works will help with that, but they do make a relevant point: Community Service, Patrick Martinez, Boston Public Art Triennial, 2025. Yubo Dong of Of Studio It would make logistic sense to turn southwest here and swing past the Public Garden en route to the main branch of the Boston Public Library, where Swoon, a much-beloved street artist turned museum installation darling, has transformed an outsize planter in the building's lobby into a terrarium for 'In the Well: The Stories We Tell About Addiction,' a ramshackle cabin inhabited by a pair of puppets (it's already there, if you're keen to get started). But I'd be pulled across the water to East Boston, where the ICA's Watershed is presenting Chiharu Shiota's exhibition 'Homeless Home.' Shiota's work is a monument to absence – trunks and suitcases and random pieces of furniture, entangled in red rope and dangling, symbols of lives up in the air. A lament for the untold millions forced into migration, cut adrift by various disasters and left with nowhere to call home, its rootlessness speaks to the chaos of our current moment. Advertisement Swoon's installation 'In the Well: The Stories We Tell About Addiction,' at the Boston Public Library Copley Square. David L. Ryan/Globe Staff Just down the street, Sosa's project works hard to find solid ground: Ñ Press, a storefront community print studio in partnership with Maverick Landing Community Services. Ñ Press roots itself in the city's Spanish-speaking community with a subtle growth mindset. Sosa, whose text-based work The Triennial concentrates a good handful of its pieces in the city core. But its mission to serve neighborhoods far-flung from downtown is in its DNA, an imprint on its soul from its formative years as the public art organization Alan Michelson's "The Knowledge Keepers" was installed at the main entrance of the Museum of Fine Arts. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston A cluster of pieces in the Fenway signal museum participation in the Triennial, a key to its visibility. Alan Michelson's 'The Knowledge Keepers,' a pair of chromium sculptures flanking the front steps of the Museum of Fine Arts, Nicholas Galanin's 'I think it goes like this (pick yourself up),' an eight-foot-tall part-Lingit Native American, part-Transformers bronze figure in the process of assembling itself is at the MassArt Museum, and Yu-Wen Wu's 'Reigning Beauty,' a photo-collage of falling flowers is fitted to the facade of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. But hop the T at Ruggles and head out toward Mattapan (this will also, alas, require a bus from Forest Hills; or backtrack on the Green Line to Park Street, where the Red Line offers a more direct route), where Lan Tuazon and Laura Lima honor the Triennial's formative history with a pair of projects rooted in that community. Advertisement Laura Lima's 2021 work 'Communal Nest #1." The artist will be creating a number of such structures/shelters for the Boston Public Art Triennial at the Boston Nature Center and Wildlife Sanctuary in Mattapan. Laura Lima Studio/Courtesy the artist and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York / Los Angeles Lima's 'An Indistinct Form (A Forma Indistinta),' at the Boston Nature Center and Wildlife Sanctuary, is a collaboration with the center's scientists to create 'sculptures for animals,' a poetic gesture with the practical purpose of building habitat lost to the urban wild — a metaphor, if you like, extended from the displacement narratives of Sosa and Shiota. Tuazon, meanwhile, has made 'Matters of Consequence,' an ever-evolving sculpture that doubles as a public space for the community to shape and grow over time; in many ways, its evolution, yet to be seen, is in fact the art. Evolution, it seems, is the watchword of the Triennial — or anything left in public to unfold over time. It's nothing without you. The Boston Public Art Triennial marks its official opening May 22 . For a list of sites, projects, and opening times, visit . Through Oct. 31 . Murray Whyte can be reached at


Boston Globe
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Alison Croney Moses's ‘This Moment for Joy' is beautiful shelter
When she conceived of the sculpture last fall, 'we were not in this particular moment,' the artist said, referring to the turmoil and anxiety Donald Trump's presidency brought to her world. But after the election, a safe space for joy seemed all the more urgent. Advertisement Croney Moses,42, has been making rounded wood sculptures since her grad school days at Rhode Island School of Design. It was only when she had children – now six and eight – that she found her artistic mission. Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up 'I have done a lot of work in my art practice to process my experience of that transition' to motherhood, she said. 'The societal context in which that happens is not caring and supportive — specifically for Black women.' Alison Croney Moses shapes laminated wood for a scale model of her Triennial installation in her Allston studio. (Lane Turner/Globe Staff) Lane Turner/Globe Staff Black women are Advertisement When she sought out community with other Black women, she found healing, and with other mothers, organized gatherings for joy and play. 'We have to find our joy, we as women, to feel free regardless of what society is doing,' Croney Moses said. 'To feel free, we have to lean into our joy so that we actually have balance in our lives.' Her own bodily experience began to inform her sculptures — womblike vessels, pods referring to babies, surfaces like skin — and Croney Moses's career took flight. In 2023, she left her job as associate director of the 'I'm on a tipping point of, 'Am I rooted in Boston? Is this feasible for me to continue my art practice and continue to grow?',' she said. 'Things like the Boston Triennial, I think, make it feasible.' Then there's community. 'This Moment for Joy' is a space for gathering. 'This piece really has Black women in mind, but it's for everyone,' she said. 'I hope everyone feels welcomed and encouraged to gather there.' Alison Croney Moses's "This Moment for Joy" during the fabrication process at 4N Woodworks in Lowell. (credit?) Alison Croney Moses Croney Moses and two other Boston artists, Andy Li and Evelyn Rydz, took part in the Advertisement 'You don't really learn public art in school,' said Triennial assistant curator Jasper A. Sanchez, who runs the program. 'It's designed as an on-ramp for public art.' The group learned how to untangle the red tape surrounding public art. When they grappled with size, everything about Croney Moses's practice changed. Usually, a simple sketch is all she needs to start building a sculpture. 'Half the design work happens as I'm making it,' she said. That wouldn't wash for ginormous. She started with her familiar, pod-shaped vessel form. 'But when you translate that to a large-scale solid wood construction,' she said, 'that feels really overpowering and kind of oppressive.' To boot, she learned that enclosed spaces are verboten in public art — people might sleep in them. Alison Croney Moses in her Allston studio as she prepares for the Boston Triennial. (Lane Turner/Globe Staff) Lane Turner/Globe Staff 'I ended up jumping from this solid construction I normally work with to an open slatted construction,' Croney Moses said. 'I'm hoping that design will still have that feel of protection and safety.' After several iterations digitally and in the woodshop, the final product came together earlier this month at wood fabricator Next, she faces the 'public' part of public art. At this size, she hopes her piece is seen as a clarion invitation. 'It's like a call to the public of 'this is a moment for joy.'' Croney Moses said. 'I know there's all this other work we have to do. But we cannot forget the joy.' Advertisement


Sharjah 24
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sharjah 24
Mona El Mousfy outlines vision for Sharjah Architecture Triennial
"Today, we are proud to launch the third edition of the Sharjah Architecture Triennial," El Mousfy announced. "This marks the beginning of an exciting chapter where we delve deeply into conversations around architecture, urbanism, and city life." This year's edition introduces a dynamic curatorial team, led by anthropologist and curator Vyjayanthi Rao and associate curator Tau Tavengwa. El Mousfy expressed strong confidence in their ability to bring fresh energy and critical perspectives to the event. "We are very excited about their participation. With their engagement, research into urbanism, and Rao's anthropological background, this edition will carry real boldness and vigor," she said. El Mousfy emphasised to 'Sharjah 24' that Sharjah Architecture Triennial will focus on immersive engagement with the city and the complexities of urban life. "This edition will be very much engaged with the city and city life," she noted, underlining a strong connection between the Triennial's themes and Sharjah's evolving urban landscape. The Triennial is expected to draw attention from global and regional audiences, continuing Sharjah's growing influence in the cultural and architectural dialogue.