
John Baldessari, 1931-2020, a favorite and in whose long shadow I often find myself. via unframed.


David Salle engaged in the practice, in the Paris Review, 2010.
Mungo Thomson’s Baldessari antenna ball (2002).
You've got to dig to dig it, you dig?

John Baldessari, 1931-2020, a favorite and in whose long shadow I often find myself. via unframed.


David Salle engaged in the practice, in the Paris Review, 2010.
Mungo Thomson’s Baldessari antenna ball (2002).
The55Project and Bakehouse presented works by Nádia Taquary, [who] “raises questions related to the knowledge and practices of the traditions of Afro-Brazilian jewelry. In her work, she uses wood, gold, silver, beads, conch shells, and other materials representative of colonialism and African religions, investigating their symbolism and highlighting their hope for freedom in a transatlantic slave context.
By revisiting these symbols of African heritage, Taquary transforms them into empowered and affirmative sculptures that evoke the necessity to bring forth dialogues on the African Diaspora.”
The works of Nádia Taquary (born 1967, Salvador, Bahia; lives in Salvador) investigate the practices and traditions of Afro-Brazilian jewelry and body adornments. By using materials representative of both colonialism and African religions, Taquary investigates their inherent meanings and symbolism while exploring representations of freedom in an Afro-Atlantic historical context.
Oríki: Bowing to the Head pays reverence to the Yoruba culture-Ori meaning “head” and ki meaning “praise.” The sculptural hairstyles not only act as a metaphor for ancestral thought, but also point to the influence of African heritage seen in contemporary hairstyles. Living in Salvador-one of the first slavery ports in Brazil and now considered the center of Afro-Brazilian culture—provides Taquary with a rich history embedded in her daily life, allowing her to examine how ancient hair-braiding methods from African tribes, such as Fula and Himba,
are kept alive as a form of resistance, affirmation, and identity formation today.
As part of the Solo Project presented by The55Project, the artist spent three weeks in a studio space provided by Bakehouse Art Complex (BAC), where she further developed the Oríki series, creating the three sculptures seen at the center of this installation. Working in this space, which is adjacent to the Little Haiti neighborhood, the artist produced new works inspired by encounters she had while exploring the local diasporic experience and investigating how these
histories are translated into Miami’s black community.
Evoking both the beauty and symbolism of these ornate hairstyles, she celebrates African heritage by translating it into a contemporary language in her work, creating empowering and affirmative sculptures that conjure the necessity to bring forth dialogues on the African diaspora.
Text by Jennifer Inacío.
Paulo Darzé Galeria. A two-person show at Leme Galery with Ayrson Heráclito. A text on the show by Francisco Madeira. Catalogue from the artist’s exhibition at the Agnès Monplaisir Gallery. Axé Bahia: The Power of Art in an Afro-Brazilian Metropolis at Fowler Museum. Praises in a blog by Marcilia Castro.
via Victoria Miro.

From Out to Lunch, February 27 – May 23, 2010 at Art and Culture Center/Hollywood.
Invitation image.
Untitled (from the archive of blck cultivation) ii, 2018. 12x 18 inches. Laser print with enamel paint. Work was shown in Adler Guerrier : Conditions and Forms for blck Longevity at CAAM.
A newsletter featuring interviews led by Nicole Martinez, with Morel Doucet and with Adler Guerrier.

You might say that Haitian-born, Miami-based artist Adler Guerrier is a cultural anthropologist of sorts. Interested in place as a subject matter – both its aesthetic qualities and the role a society plays in shaping it – Guerrier employs photography, collage, and painting to illustrate the complexity of local terrain. Numerous themes frequently come to the fore – lush foliage, worn photographs, and gentle pastels excavate Miami’s Caribbean sensibility. Guerrier selects these motifs, which initially appear as nostalgic, as present interpretations of how this place came to be made. He layers them into one another to mirror the many cultures and customs that overlap in Miami.
Nicole Martinez, Bakehouse Rising, volume 4.