In the dreamy installations of Lachlan Turczan, natural and perceptual phenomena combine in otherworldly installations merging technology with aquatic landscapes. Water is central to the Los Angeles-based artist’s work and helps shape an ongoing series of immersive projects incorporating light and sonic phenomena.
Turczan is influenced by the Light and Space movement, which originated in Southern California in the 1960s and is characterized by the work of John McLaughlin, Robert Irwin, James Turrell, Lita Albuquerque, and more. The movement focused on perception, employing materials like glass, neon, resin, acrylic, and fluorescent lights to emphasize light, volume, and scale.
“Constellation Grid” (2024), water, light, and fog. A swamp in Upstate New York
Many Light and Space artists created installations and immersive spaces conditioned by naturally occurring elements like Turrell’s ever-changing glimpse of the sky through a ceiling aperture for “Space that Sees.” Not only does the view change as clouds roll by or the weather shifts, but the light continuously transforms the entire room.
“While my work shares this lineage,” Turczan tells Colossal, “it diverges in several key ways: rather than exploring the ‘nature of experience,’ I create experiences of nature that challenge our understanding of light, water, and space.” He describes his approach as “complicating” these elements, emphasizing the ever-changing fluidity of the environment.
In Turczan’s ongoing Veil series, light installations unfold organically in locations ranging from Death Valley’s Badwater Basin to a flooded park near the Rhine River. Lasers and beams of light are projected and submerged, capturing the movement of wind, mist, and the water’s surface.
Additional pieces also merge light and water, like “Aldwa Alsael,” which translates to “liquid light,” and was commissioned for the 2024 Noor Riyadh Light Art Festival.
“Veil I” (2024), light, water, and salt. Death Valley, California
“For the most part, these installations unfold organically,” Turczan says. “I may discover a location in nature that seems perfect for a new Veil sculpture, but when I return, the conditions have inevitably changed.” Evolving circumstances require the artist to proceed with an openness to chance encounters that strike a balance between preparation and intuition.
“Death Valley Veil” (2024), water, light, and haze. Lake Manly, a temporary lake that formed in Death Valley’s Badwater Basin after Hurricane Hillary“Veil II” (2024), light, water, and steam. Mojave Desert, California“Aldwa Alsael” (2024), water, light, and steel tower, 25 x 25 x 50 feet“Veil V” (2024), water and light, 15 x 15 x 3 feet“Aldwa Alsael”
From throwback pixelated video games to science fiction-inspired computer consoles, Love Hultén’s playful sculptures (previously) harken back to the birth of digital.
Based in Gothenburg, Sweden, the artist’s explorations of video games, electronic music, and retrofuturist aesthetics continue to shape playful pieces like “R-KAID-R,” a mobile video game complete with a toggle, all of which can be carried like a briefcase.
“The Singer”
One recent work, “The Future Fan Stage” takes a humorous approach to a fantastical fusion of live performance, science, and computers. Commissioned for Gothenburg’s Way Out West, the screen doubles as a fully functional stage that played live recordings of the headliners “for what might be the largest yet smallest crowd in history: sperm and eggs getting ‘ready to rumble’ in a laboratory,” Hultén says.
The artist draws on controversies surrounding in vitro fertilization (IVF) that have reached a fever pitch during the past few years. Taking an optimistic approach to science and modern medicine, Hultén references studies demonstrating that music may improve fertilization during the IVF process.
Hultén’s work will be on view in Liljevalchs’ spring salon Vårsalong 2025, which opens on February 14 in Stockholm. Find more on the artist’s website.
“Leto”“The Future Fan Stage”Detail of “The Future Fan Stage”“Y-17”Detail of “Y-17”“R-KAID-R”Detail of “Leto”“The Singer”
On nearly 27 wooded acres outside the town of Catskill, New York, artist Matt Bua has been hard at work on a creative compound like no other. For two decades, he has constructed an artist-built environment from salvaged materials comprising numerous living spaces and work areas. Recently listed for sale for $269,000, the off-grid property known as “B-Home” could be yours.
Bua’s project originated with the idea to “build one of every type of dwelling we could with materials that were easily at hand,” the artist tells Colossal. From repurposed vinyl records, bottles, and reclaimed wood, a sprawling “repurposed city” emerged as painted signs, sculptures, and one-of-a-kind structures popped up over time.
Bua describes his approach as “intuitive building,” working in response to the natural terrain, found materials, and vernacular structures of the northeast. He wrote a book titled Talking Walls, which focuses on the region’s tens of thousands of miles of historic stone walls and considers history and material culture merge in the ways we understand “place.”
Bua lived in Brooklyn when he purchased the property. “All I wanted to do was go up there and build,” he recently told Artnet. He was inspired by self-sustaining communities like Drop City in Colorado, an artists’ commune formed in 1960 with a reputation for remarkable hand-built homes. Incidentally, he also used to maintain Catskill’s quirky Catamount People’s Museum, an installation of an enormous bobcat made from scraps of wood.
Along with a cohort of friends who have contributed freestanding artworks and functional structures over the years, Bua approached “B-Home” as a collaborative experiment “informed by the needs and desires of our surrounding community.”
For any of us who are shy or anxious about interacting with others in the outside world, we might think of the face we “put on” that enable us to feel less fearful. For Lena Guberman (previously), a recent series of ceramic sculptures titled INS_IDE_OUT delves into her childhood experiences with social anxiety and the uncertainties of the unknown.
“The mask provides a protective shell and presents a ‘perfect’ appearance to the outside world but fails to stop the fears and emotions from bursting out,” Guberman tells Colossal.
Each piece is modeled on the same melancholy face of a young, brown-haired girl, with painted and sculpted elements that range from spikes to arrows to a dead bird. Emotionally evocative and sometimes slightly unsettling, her sculptures explore the spectrum of feelings associated with anxiety.
Guberman is currently planning a project that expands upon her use of ceramics by adding other materials. See more work on her website, Instagram, and Behance.
Depending on how you look at them, the tendrils seemingly growing from Joan Clare Brown’s porcelain bases could be perceived as soft and delicate or spiny, defensive, and slightly unsettling. Dualities lie at the heart of the artist’s approach to ceramics, especially in her ongoing series Ed, which takes personal experience and human anatomy as starting points for a poignant study of grief.
“I started this series as a response to my father’s sudden passing,” Brown tells Colossal. “He was diagnosed with widespread pancreatic cancer and passed away the same day, ultimately of sepsis from complications of a perforated bowel.” In the Ed works, the cinched base, which mimics a frilly-edged textile cushion or pouch, represents a perforated organ, and the long, growing blades or tendrils emblematize infection.
“Ed #5” (2023), porcelain and mason stain, 6 x 4 x 5 inches
The inherent hardness and brittleness of porcelain juxtapose with the softness of textile-like surfaces and organic, plant-like fronds. Each color reflects specific childhood memories of Brown’s father, like the blue and green hues drawn from his favorite flannel shirt or light pinks and purples redolent of a tablecloth used at her family dinners.
“Through the permanence of the ceramic form, my hope was to turn something menacing and insidious into a nostalgic and meaningful reminder,” Brown says. “And by making these pieces, in a way, I feel that he is still present.”
“Ed #16” (2023), porcelain, mason stain, glaze, and luster, 7 x 6 x 4 inchesDetail of “Ed #13”“Ed #10” (2023), porcelain and mason stain, 7 x 5 x 5 inches“Ed #11” (2023), porcelain and mason stain, 7 x 8 x 7 inches“Ed #12” (2023), porcelain and mason stain, 7 x 5 x 4 inchesDetail of “Ed #11”“Ed #4” (2022), porcelain and mason stain, 7 x 4 x 4 inches“Ed #3” (2022), porcelain, mason stain, glaze, and luster, 8 x 6 x 4 inches
In a 1906 essay, psychiatrist Ernst Jentsch coined the term “uncanny,” or unheimlich, meaning “unhomely” or “not home-like” in German. He defined the psychological phenomenon as the experience of something new or unknown that might initially be interpreted negatively.
Austrian neurologist and founder of psychoanalysis Sigmund Freud popularized the word with the publication of his book The Uncanny in 1919, which elaborated on the idea as not just the sensation of the unknown but also something capable of bringing out hidden or repressed elements, going so far as to describe the uncanny as frightening.
During the 20th century, the Surrealists often turned to the concept to build a sense of mystery or tension in their works. Meret Oppenheim, for instance, famously created a teacup lined with fur, simply titled “Object” (1936), widely regarded as an iconic example of the movement.
Oppenheim is one of more than two dozen artists whose work will appear in the National Museum of Women in the Arts’ forthcoming exhibition, Uncanny, featuring recent acquisitions and rarely shown pieces in NMWA’s collection, plus special loans.
More than 60 works by renowned figures of modern art history like Louise Bourgeois, Remedios Varo, and Leonora Carrington will be shown alongside the likes of contemporary artists like Shahzia Sikander, Laurie Simmons, and Gillian Wearing. The large-scale presentation is the first to approach the concept through a feminist lens and is organized around themes of safety and surreal imaginings.
The show also plumbs the phenomenon of the “uncanny valley,” a term coined by robotics engineer Masahiro Mori in 1970 to describe the apprehension or discomfort one feels when confronted with something that is almost human but not quite, like video game characters that appear realistic yet still somehow seem “off.”
In Laurie Simmons’ “The Music of Regret IV” (1994), a female ventriloquist dummy sits in the center of a circle of six male dummy dolls, whose gazes are trained on her as she looked out into the distance. Tapping into a medium that has been used in the horror genre to instill a sense of creepiness or dread, Simmons’ central character is dramatically spotlit, her smile belying the reality that she is unsettlingly hemmed in.
Along the theme of safety, or specifically unsafe spaces, Fabiola Jean-Louis’s elaborately staged photographs tell two stories at once. The artist portrays “seemingly innocuous portraits of close acquaintances wearing elaborate period costumes typical of upper-class European women, while disturbing images of racial and sexual violence are hidden within the background or details of a dress, reminding the viewer of the lineage of violence,” says an exhibition statement.
Many works in the show address physical trauma or the body’s relationship to the unknown. Frida Orupabo’s photographic collages, for example, portray Black figures that evoke colonial histories, critiquing historical violence and injustices through a process of fragmenting, distorting, and multiplying body parts.
Orupabo’s compositions echo the surrealist collaborative practice of cadavre exquis, or exquisite corpse, in which participants add to elements others have drawn without being able to see their work, producing intuitive and peculiar drawings.
“The enigmatic, darkly humorous and psychologically tense artworks in Uncanny give form to women artists’ powerful expressions of existential unease,” said NMWA Associate Curator Orin Zahra, who organized the exhibition. She continues:
Rather than comfort and soothe, these ghostly and fantastical figures haunt the unconscious. Instead of picturesque images, artists offer disquieting spaces that unsettle the viewer. In focusing on the ambiguity between reality and fiction, artists explore increasingly blurred lines between the artificial and eerily human.
Uncanny opens February 28 and continues through August 10 in Washington, D.C., highlighting painting, sculpture, photography, works on paper, and video made between 1954 and 2022. Learn more and plan your visit on the museum’s website.
In nature, flowers serve as an essential component of the reproduction process. But for humans, scented blooms are ripe with myriad meanings and symbolism that transcend their biological functions.
During Victorian times, offering a bouquet to someone with your right hand indicated a non-verbal “yes,” while a yellow carnation would reject an admirer. Similarly in art history, wilting flowers rendered as a momento mori remind us of death’s inevitability, and for van Gogh, sunflowers were the perfect stand-in for gratitude.
A massive exhibition opening next month at Saatchi Gallery cultivates a vast repertoire of works that explores how blooms have become an omnipresent entity in human life and creativity. Flowers: Flora in Contemporary Art and Culture brings together more than 500 photographs, installations, sculptures, archival pieces, and other objects to create a rich landscape spanning millennia.
Anchoring the exhibition is an expansive and immersive work of 100,000-plus dried flowers by Rebecca Louise Law. Smaller pieces include Xuebing Du’s ethereal photos of flowers in natural light, VOYDER’s streaky steam-laden compositions, and lush, vibrant gardens by Faye Bridgewater.
Opening in time to usher in spring in London, Flowers runs from February 12 to May 5.
VOYDER, “In Love with the Idea of You” (2024). Image courtesy of the artistMiriam Tolke, “Flowers of Yesterday.” Image courtesy of the artistSandra Kantanen, “Still Life (Flowers I).” Image courtesy the artist and Purdy Hicks GalleryXuebing Du, “Mother of Pearl” (2018). Image courtesy of the artistCarmen Mitrotta, “Geometric Leaves.” Image courtesy the artistFaye Bridgwater, “En Masse” (2025). Image courtesy of the artistAnn von Freyburg, “Floral Arrangement 1 (After Jan van Huysum, Still Life).” Image courtesy of the artist
