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JUKE JOINT reviewed in today’s print edition of the NYTIMES by Jillian Steinhauer. The exhibition remains on view through June 20 at MARCH. 62-64 Avenue A. New York, New York 10002. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @nytimes @jilnotjill @lonnieholleysuniverse @parker.gallery @edelassanti #jukejoint

JUKE JOINT reviewed in today’s print edition of the NYTIMES by Jillian Steinhauer. The exhibition remains on view through June 20 at MARCH. 62-64 Avenue A. New York, New York 10002. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @nytimes @jilnotjill @lonnieholleysuniverse @parker.gallery @edelassanti #jukejoint

JUKE JOINT reviewed in today’s print edition of the NYTIMES by Jillian Steinhauer. The exhibition remains on view through June 20 at MARCH. 62-64 Avenue A. New York, New York 10002. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @nytimes @jilnotjill @lonnieholleysuniverse @parker.gallery @edelassanti #jukejoint

JUKE JOINT reviewed in today’s print edition of the NYTIMES by Jillian Steinhauer. The exhibition remains on view through June 20 at MARCH. 62-64 Avenue A. New York, New York 10002. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @nytimes @jilnotjill @lonnieholleysuniverse @parker.gallery @edelassanti #jukejoint

JUKE JOINT reviewed in today’s print edition of the NYTIMES by Jillian Steinhauer. The exhibition remains on view through June 20 at MARCH. 62-64 Avenue A. New York, New York 10002. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @nytimes @jilnotjill @lonnieholleysuniverse @parker.gallery @edelassanti #jukejoint

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

NYC OF LATE and the changing of the season.

Misleidys Francisca Castillo Pedroso’s “Giants” are on view in the exhibition 𝘒𝘈𝘞𝘚: 𝘈𝘳𝘵 & 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘹 at the Albertina Modern in Vienna, on view through September 27.

Exploring the interactions between comics, comic strips, cartoons, and fine art, the exhibition places the American artist KAWS in dialogue with certain contemporary trends, with a particular focus on the artistic autonomy of his characters, which combine elements of pop art, commercial art, and public art.

Photo courtesy Galerie Christian Berst.

#misleidysfranciscacastillopedroso @christianberstartbrut @albertinamuseum

We’re delighted to share installation views of Y. Malik Jalal’s work in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦, on view at the Studio Museum in Harlem through September 6th.

Working amid a turbulent era in US history shaped by widespread social and political change, the seventeen artists in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦 embrace spirituality, surrealism, and nonlinear conceptions of time to locate spaces of possibility.

Courtesy Studio Museum in Harlem. Photo: Kris Graves.

@ymalikjalal @studiomuseum #ymalikjalal

We’re delighted to share installation views of Y. Malik Jalal’s work in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦, on view at the Studio Museum in Harlem through September 6th.

Working amid a turbulent era in US history shaped by widespread social and political change, the seventeen artists in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦 embrace spirituality, surrealism, and nonlinear conceptions of time to locate spaces of possibility.

Courtesy Studio Museum in Harlem. Photo: Kris Graves.

@ymalikjalal @studiomuseum #ymalikjalal

We’re delighted to share installation views of Y. Malik Jalal’s work in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦, on view at the Studio Museum in Harlem through September 6th.

Working amid a turbulent era in US history shaped by widespread social and political change, the seventeen artists in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦 embrace spirituality, surrealism, and nonlinear conceptions of time to locate spaces of possibility.

Courtesy Studio Museum in Harlem. Photo: Kris Graves.

@ymalikjalal @studiomuseum #ymalikjalal

We’re delighted to share installation views of Y. Malik Jalal’s work in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦, on view at the Studio Museum in Harlem through September 6th.

Working amid a turbulent era in US history shaped by widespread social and political change, the seventeen artists in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦 embrace spirituality, surrealism, and nonlinear conceptions of time to locate spaces of possibility.

Courtesy Studio Museum in Harlem. Photo: Kris Graves.

@ymalikjalal @studiomuseum #ymalikjalal

We’re delighted to share installation views of Y. Malik Jalal’s work in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦, on view at the Studio Museum in Harlem through September 6th.

Working amid a turbulent era in US history shaped by widespread social and political change, the seventeen artists in 𝘍𝘢𝘥𝘦 embrace spirituality, surrealism, and nonlinear conceptions of time to locate spaces of possibility.

Courtesy Studio Museum in Harlem. Photo: Kris Graves.

@ymalikjalal @studiomuseum #ymalikjalal

Gerald Jackson, Untitled (Skid), c. 1980s, acrylic, oil, enamel, felt ribbon, staples, nails, and wood,
78 1/2 x 66 1/2 inches is among works currently on view in JUKE JOINT—through June 20 at MARCH. DM for more information. Photos: Cary Whittier.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @c_whittier @gordonrobichaux #geraldjackson

Gerald Jackson, Untitled (Skid), c. 1980s, acrylic, oil, enamel, felt ribbon, staples, nails, and wood,
78 1/2 x 66 1/2 inches is among works currently on view in JUKE JOINT—through June 20 at MARCH. DM for more information. Photos: Cary Whittier.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @c_whittier @gordonrobichaux #geraldjackson

Gerald Jackson, Untitled (Skid), c. 1980s, acrylic, oil, enamel, felt ribbon, staples, nails, and wood,
78 1/2 x 66 1/2 inches is among works currently on view in JUKE JOINT—through June 20 at MARCH. DM for more information. Photos: Cary Whittier.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @c_whittier @gordonrobichaux #geraldjackson

Gerald Jackson, Untitled (Skid), c. 1980s, acrylic, oil, enamel, felt ribbon, staples, nails, and wood,
78 1/2 x 66 1/2 inches is among works currently on view in JUKE JOINT—through June 20 at MARCH. DM for more information. Photos: Cary Whittier.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @c_whittier @gordonrobichaux #geraldjackson

Today is the final day to visit Independent! Visit us in Booth #202 to explore Dianna Settles’ presentation.

Dianna Settles
𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴., 2026
Acrylic and colored pencil on panel
32 x 24 x 1 inches

DM for more information + inquiries.

@platonicyouth @independent_hq @marchforwardmarch#diannasettles

Today is the final day to visit Independent! Visit us in Booth #202 to explore Dianna Settles’ presentation.

Dianna Settles
𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴., 2026
Acrylic and colored pencil on panel
32 x 24 x 1 inches

DM for more information + inquiries.

@platonicyouth @independent_hq @marchforwardmarch#diannasettles

Ana Benaroya, There Must Be An Angel, 2021, India ink and marker on paper. Collection of the High Museum of Art (Atlanta, GA). Gift of KAWS. Accession 2021.288.

@marchforwardmarch @anabenaroya @highmuseumofart @kaws #anabenaroya

Thank you to Elisa Carollo and the Observer for including Dianna Settles in this fair report. Find us in Booth #202 at Independent all weekend.

@platonicyouth @independent_hq @observer @marchforwardmarch #diannasettles

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

JUKE JOINT is officially open at MARCH with installation views posted here of gallery two. Photography by Cary Whittier. DM for any and all inquiries. From the press release:

Nothing comes from nothing. Everything comes from something. The term juke is believed to come from the Gullah word joog, meaning rowdy or disorderly. Joog, in turn, is almost certainly derived from the Wolof word dzug meaning to misconduct one’s self. Juke also describes the outmaneuvering of an opponent, generally through quick movements. Colloquially the purview of athletes, this exhibition proposes an aesthetic shake off, embodied by Black artists engaged in a century-long dialogue using misdirection as a method of both survival and celebration. It takes the juke joint as both inspiration and setting.

Historically, juke joints were not purpose-built but rather emerged in spaces that previously existed and later outfitted with bars, seating, decoration, and pool tables. These informal but influential establishments featured music, dancing, drinking, and sometimes gambling, operated by Black owners who provided private leisure space against the backdrop of segregation and Jim Crow.

The origins of these spaces may lie in pre-emancipation community rooms, but we are ill-equipped to delve into centuries of creative survivalist response. Instead, this exhibition is focused on the development of a coherent visual language that reached a zenith in the 1980s, after the great social movements of the 1960s and before the ubiquitous arrival of ever-isolating technologies. The congruity of the works can be explained by the once widespread existence of these private gathering spaces paired with the inclinations of artists who held jobs working with their hands. The exhibition shares its title with a book of photographs by Birney Imes, published in 1990 by the University of Mississippi Press. The paintings, assemblages, drawings, and collages in our show appear to have spilled out the back door of any number of these places across the Southern United States and into the collective consciousness.

@marchforwardmarch @parker.gallery @edelassanti @gordonrobichaux @tops_gallery @lonnieholleysuniverse

Thank you to Andrew Huff and Whitewall for including Dianna Settles in this survey of Independent, on view through this Sunday. Link in bio to read more.

@platonicyouth @independent_hq @andrewhuff.jpg @whitewall.art #diannasettles

Thank you to Andrew Huff and Whitewall for including Dianna Settles in this survey of Independent, on view through this Sunday. Link in bio to read more.

@platonicyouth @independent_hq @andrewhuff.jpg @whitewall.art #diannasettles

Two photographs by Birney Imes, both on view during JUKE JOINT at MARCH—each taken at the Pink Pony Café. DM for availability or buy the book. Links in bio.

Birney Imes, Pink Pony Café, 1983; Darling, Mississippi, 1983, Chromogenic print, 13 1/2 x 17 inches.

@marchforwardmarch #birneyimes

Two photographs by Birney Imes, both on view during JUKE JOINT at MARCH—each taken at the Pink Pony Café. DM for availability or buy the book. Links in bio.

Birney Imes, Pink Pony Café, 1983; Darling, Mississippi, 1983, Chromogenic print, 13 1/2 x 17 inches.

@marchforwardmarch #birneyimes

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles

Dianna Settles at the INDEPENDENT. Booth 202. All installation photos by Cary Whittier. DM for more information.

@marchforwardmarch @platonicyouth @independent_hq @c_whittier #diannasettles