dArt International Magazine – Summer 2026 edition of the making of art, its exhibition, and what we say about it

July 4, 2026July 4, 2026

Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial, 2026

by Emese Krunak-Hajagos

The Graphic Arts Triennial in Hungary, takes place in a beautiful city in the mountains of the Bükk Nationale Park, Miskolc. The triennial started as a biennial 65 years ago, in 1961, then for several reasons, financial and organizational among them, turned into a triennial. For a North American reader 65 years sounds almost unbelievable. It is not an international show or art fair, but a Hungarian art event. In today’s rootless world glazed in international veneer, this is a major accomplishment, a triumph of Hungarian art and perseverance.

Installation view of Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial at the Miskolc Galley. Photo: Benedek Baranczó

Reproduced graphic art was always a European genre—think of Dürer’s and Rembrandt’s work. It has been flourishing from the 19th century to the present day within Central Eastern Europe, in Hungary, Germany, Poland, Slovakia and the Czech Republic. The genre has endless potential as both the message and the technical implementation harmoniously capture the possibility of constant renewal.

Because of the 65th anniversary there are two large exhibitions. One, titled Sixty-Five, is at the Herman Ottó Museum, showcasing all the Grand Prize winners from the very first year till today. The Museum’s rich collection shows an emblematic picture of 20th century Hungarian graphic art. It is a very interesting and entertaining exhibition where visitors can follow the historical, thematic and technical developments of reproduced graphic arts.

Installation view of Sixty-Five at the Herman Otto Museum. Photo: Benedek Baranczó

The Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial 2026 fills all the rooms of the large Miskolc Gallery. Visitors first see the exhibition of the previous triennial’s Grand Prize winner, Tamás Felshmann’s, titled Architectural Heritage. At first sight I thought that I was looking at historical pieces of architectural plans or illustrations. The works are very impressive, large-sized and captivating. When you start looking at the details you want to know everything about the whereabouts of the buildings, their locations, originality, the architect’s name, how they were built and why and how they are depicted in this way. It is a unique show of majestic buildings. We can identify some basilicas, like St. Peter’s in Roma or St. Mark’s in Venice, while others depict public places, all representing our historical heritage through architecture. Buildings depicted by dark lines, grey surfaces or white, empty areas are perfect replicas of the original buildings. Still there is something more to them. Felschmann seems to add a magic touch that turns the buildings into something dreamlike, so even while they are real and proportionate, they turn into something beyond it, a heavenly place. The Basilica series, greyish drawings of symmetrical facades, sometimes with a drop of color, are spiritually intense. Even when the pieces are dark, they still radiate beauty and harmony. You can see that these works have been done by a perfectionist. Everything is painstakingly correct, but still spiritual and nostalgic, showing a bygone era creatively transferred to another age. 

Tamás Felshmann: Basilica Minor 49, Study, 2024, digital giclée print on paper, 150 x 100 cm (left) and detail (right)

On the second floor, the largest room of the gallery showcases the award-winning artworks. Grand Prix winner Miklós Kelemen’s (Municipality of Miskolc Grand Prize award) Unfinished sculpture is both a commemoration and a tribute to the art of his sculptor grandfather. The large-sized work, composed of 9 prints, is very powerful. It depicts the creation of a large sculpture of a horse, maybe intended to be in a public square, following the old technique when the artist built a wood frame at first. We can see that wood structure is tied together with ropes. The surface of the wood panels and the texture of the ropes are beautifully drawn with sensitive lines and deep shades.

Miklós Kelemen: Unfinished sculpture, 2025, intaglio collagraphy on paper, 297 x 207 cm (left) and detail (right)

Tamas G. Kovács’ (Hungarian Academy of Arts Special Prize) biblical triptych is challenging both thematically and visually. While recognizing the narrative (The annunciation, The moment of birth, Massacre of the innocents) I hesitate about how to interpret it. Is it satirical or AI focused? There are robots with other AI elements in each composition, as well as mythical monsters mixed with machinery parts. There are many layers. The top (heaven?), the middle with the actual action, and something is also happening underground where they are digging a mine with strange machinery. Is it a religious composition or a set of tarot cards? Hard to say, but either way it is interesting. You can’t overlook it.

Tamás G. Kovács (L-R): The annunciation, 2026, linocut on paper, 60 x 42 cm; The moment of birth, 2026, linocut on paper, 70 x 50 cm and Massacre of the innocents, 2026, linocut on paper, 60 x 42 cm

There are numerous young artists (more than 20% of the participants) in the triennial, Orsolya Cseh (Hajagos Imre award) among them. What is remarkable in her linocut, titled Wedged into my words is the way she depicts her motifs. On the left side of the composition is a large figure facing a ball-like thing with thorns, a bent tree, some vegetation on the ground and maybe animals. There is a crossroad in the foreground and a bicycle on the ground. What kind of world—imaginary or real—does the artist travel? The strength of this piece is the making of it, the linocut, that allows such a rich surface. The curving lines, the various patterns, the strong contrasts of black and white elements create a rich, expressive composition.

Orsolya Cseh: Wedged into my words, 2025, linocut on paper, 99 x 200 cm

Anikó Csonga Kovács (Hermann Ottó Museum – Miskolc Gallery award) depicts a woman warrior in a Japanese fighting position. Titled Individual, she is alone and faceless. It seems that she is in a chemical war, with a container on her back connected to a tube that will shoot out the liquid. This is a linocut on layered plastic sheets that gives it a 3D feeling.

Mátyás Boros (Szabadkéz Gallery and Art Colony award) creates a composition in Totem 2, that mixes graphical and sculptural elements into a unique print installation.

Anikó Csonga Kovács: Individual, 2025, linocut on layered plastic sheets and paper, 100 x 80 cm

Mátyás Boros, Totem 2, 2026, linocut, unique print, paper installation, 90 x 90 cm

The triennial is a huge exhibition with 114 artworks by 69 artists. We live in an age of rapid technological advancements, and the field of reproduced graphic art is no exception. New design genres emerge at a record pace only to lose their dominant role just as swiftly. This is the case with electrography, which used to appear in significant quantities, but this year its presence is negligible. The call for the triennial allows for a wide range of techniques, whether it is traditional or new and experimental. During my conversation with curator Ábel Kónya, the potential involvement of artificial intelligence was discussed, which clearly showcases that the organizers are open to new methods of implementation.

I was somewhat surprised by the large number of artworks that follow traditional techniques requiring academic training. The Hungarian University of Fine Arts has an excellent Graphic Art Department that most of the exhibiting artists attended or attend as the triennial allows students to enter their works. A good example of this a third-year student, Veronika Fürstand’s piece, Only I can truly understand. It is a beautifully lyrical composition, where a tiger comforts a girl by licking her face. Love and empathy don’t have borders.

Veronika Fürstand: Only I can truly understand, 2025, colour linocut on paper, 41 x 59.6 c

Prominent pieces within the traditional category include the sensitive, figurative, soft-ground etching compositions of János Barta (Hungarian Graphic Artists Association award). Réka Dobi’s series, From late Night to early morning are outstanding images with their sensitive depiction of the various stages of sleep, waiting for it come, dreams, even nightmares and total escape from reality. Mietta Kerper’s woodcut guides us into a rhythmic rainy night, where red figures covered with various patterns walk along the road. It has strong painterly qualities and creates a meditative atmosphere.

János Barta: Super 8 Unstable, 2025, soft-ground on paper, 19.7 x 29.7 cm

Réka Dobi: From late Night to early morning I., 2025, linocut on paper 116 x 151 cm

Mietta Kerper, Rhythm exercise I., 2025, multi-block woodcut on paper, 29.5 x 42 cm

However, this does not mean that experimental works are neglected. Several works refer to their unique techniques and implementation methods, such as in the case of Zsolt Durucskó and Dániel Lebeda, which encourage the viewers to figure out the methods used. Electrography is still present; examples include the works of Péter Berentz and Zsuzsanna Enyedi.

Zsolt Durucskó: Escape attend II., 2023, own technique, intaglio on paper, 59.5 x 27.2 cm

Zsuzsanna Enyedi: Blind spot II., 2026, digital print on plastic board 80 x 132 cm

The exhibited works of the 2026 Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennale give a remarkable picture of the contemporary Hungarian graphic arts. It shows the thematic deepness and technical variety of the artists of our era. It also paints a true picture of social situations, political movements and changes, outlines everyday life and the psychological responses of people. Rich narratives and strong expressions always were and still are the main characteristics of graphic art. This positive outlook, both in terms of themes and techniques, I believe is one of the main reasons behind the genre’s survival. In Hungary graphic arts still flourish and will have a long and wonderful future.

Images are courtesy of Miskolc Gallery. Photo: János Ádám

Miskolc Graphic Arts Triennial, 2026, Miskolc Gallery, 2 Rákóczi Street, Miskolc and Sixty-five, 28 Görgey Artúr Street, Miskolc, Hungary, both May 9 – August 9, 2026

July 1, 2026

Keunhee Park: the Question of Transparency in Relation to Identity and Truth

by Chunbum Park

At Keunhee Park’s solo exhibition, MAZE, at the Riverside Gallery in Hackensack, NJ, sculptures that alternate between the modes of transparent glass and opaque wood manifest themselves in succinct metaphors about the nature of identity and being. While Park’s work appears purely abstract with only formal concerns on the surface, it is totally concerned with the real world and, in particular, the human world and the questions of identity.

These sculptures contain forms that turn in rectilinear fashion like a literal 3-dimensional maze or snake game that maps out the possible pathways of movement and/or communication link. They carry the vestiges of certain conceptual and instruction-based works by the likes of Sol Lewitt, whose work including Floor-Wall Grid (1966) would stand as an example of the grid that Rosalind Krauss would write about in her seminal 1979 essay describing the use of grid as a powerful motif to bring about a new vocabulary that did not exist prior and as a language of the abstract realm that distinguishes itself from the “real” world.

The rectilinear geometry would manifest itself throughout history, whether the perspectival space or the windows in modern painting like Matisse’s masterpieces, as Krauss would point out in her writing. The grid as a window acknowledges the “frame” that exists outside or within the inner dimensions of the artwork. In Park’s grid-like constructions, the spatial dynamics is highly organized and curated with a specific set of rules and conventions in which the spatial dynamics come together. These underlying codes of spatial turns and projections suggest a fundamental language or building block as we see in the form of pixels on a computer display or the bricks of a virtual world.

Why does a pathway suddenly change direction as if it were being stopped by something and were seeking an alternate path? Why does it continue to move uninterrupted in a straight line from certain positions?

Park’s sculptures represent the self and how we navigate the world or the environment in which the self exists, which is ultimately in relation to the other selves that occupy different positions in space time. Very interesting theories abound in physics that may inform our understanding of existence and the cosmos, including the fact that the electrons are virtually indistinguishable from one another. What if we were the electrons, but we were the same person, just spread out across various points in the space time continuum?

Particular portions of the sculptures alternate between the materials of wood and glass, as if to equate transparency with honesty and opacity with secrecy of the inner self. It is important to identify the difference between the surface and the core in relation to the question of identity, and Park’s sculptures in part reflect this binary relationship. Were the core of the self to become more visible, it must become more transparent and honest, yet the being or the object becomes less clearly defined, more susceptible to the influence of the surrounding elements (such as light and reflections), and more vulnerable. The opposite is true of opacity; with secrecy, the being or the object becomes less honest, yet it is also more protected and less vulnerable.

This is the contradictory and ironic condition of the universe and existence. Why do humans value honesty and integrity so much in a world where one must pay more to uphold such noble ideals?

In another reading of Park’s sculptures, the transparent glass portions may suggest the imaginary or the imagined decisions and outcomes, whereas the opaque wooden parts may suggest what is real in the status quo, prior to the event of imagination that spawns subsequent actions. Park’s works may also reflect on human existence as a mix of the imaginary and the real structures. The imaginary and the real differentiate into the realm of social and political structures, economic structures, and so on in the imaginary, and the physical structures in the real.

Human structures are not only made of tangible objects but also the symbolic and aesthetic objects, to which Park’s Maze series belongs in reality. Ultimately, it is important to consider the alternate histories of what could have happened had we taken the other path. This is because alternative history and imagination allow us to critique and to reform the sociopolitical and economic structures, as well as the individual being (in terms of one’s condition and circumstances), in the status quo. Park’s sculptures may have begun as the artist’s reflection of a life lived, in which he had to struggle numerous times throughout life, only to become an artist, which in and of itself is a path of multiple struggles. However, the Maze series also carries a universal value and meaning because it is a human nature and condition to struggle and to seek out a decision at the crossroads.

Keunhee Park: MAZE, June 19 – July 6, 2026, 1 Riverside Square, Suite 201, Hackensack, NJ 07601

June 26, 2026July 3, 2026

Shipwreck: Robinson Crusoe and the Andrea Doria

by Steve Rockwell

Published in 1719, Daniel Defoe’s The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner, is generally regarded as the first English novel. Its immediate success might be attributed to its documentary, confessional style of narration. The receptivity by the general public to tales of shipwreck already had the Alexander Selkirk account as a classic example. Lack of lighthouses and the accurate mapping of shoals made naval disasters inevitable in this age.

When twelve-year-old Jouko Salomaa crossed the Atlantic on the first of October 1957, the ocean liner passengers endured a storm that produced waves the height of the ship. Seasickness had trapped the lad to his cabin for all but the last day of the voyage. The joy at the release from his confinement came with a boundless excitement to explore the ship. Finding himself at the prow of the liner, on an ill-advised impulse he clasped the jack staff tightly with both hands, hoisting himself up with a quick jerk, legs dangling over the tip of the prow. Looking down, the keel cleaved the relative calm Atlantic waters producing little rainbows. A nervous twist of the head at the fear of discovery, however, brought a quick end to the prank.

Unknown to the young passenger at the time but common knowledge to crew and many of its passengers, was the ocean liner tragic history. Just a year before on July 25, 1956, in a collision with the Andrea Doria, the jack staff and prow of the MS Stockholm had sunk to the bottom of the sea off the coast of Nantucket in heavy fog. The 75-foot section was repaired within four months at Bethlehem Steel Shipyard in Sunset Park Shipyard, Brooklyn. While the Andrea Doria sunk after 11 hours most of its passengers were rescued.

At the moment of impact, 14-year-old Linda Morgan had been asleep. Her cabin, stateroom 52, was on the upper deck of the luxury liner.

(Note to reader: Shipwreck article will be completed in installments.)

The Luminaria in San Antonio edition of dArt International Magazine (2008), featuring Bill Fitzgibbons

Then San Antonio Mayor Phil Hardberger photographed at a 2008 Luminaria event by Steve Rockwell. The Mayor married Linda Morgan in 1968. She had been the "miracle girl" survivor of the Andrea Doria — Then San Antonio Mayor Phil Hardberger photographed at a 2008 Luminaria event by Steve Rockwell. The Mayor married Linda Morgan in 1968. She had been the “miracle girl” survivor of the Andrea Doria

Jouko reser till Canada, October 1, 1957, Lennart Hansson scrap book page with two of his photos of Jouko Salomaa at the train station in Grangesberg, Sweden, taken the day before Jouko boarded the SAL ocean liner Stockholm in the Copenhagen to Halifax, Canada Atlantic crossing — **Jouko reser till Canada,** October 1, 1957, Lennart Hansson scrap book page with two of his photos of Jouko Salomaa at the train station in Grangesberg, Sweden, taken the day before Jouko boarded the SAL ocean liner Stockholm in the Copenhagen to Halifax, Canada Atlantic crossing

The Swedish American Line ship The Stockholm photographed after its 1956 collision with the Andrea Doria in Nantucket Sound

Movie poster for Luis Bunel's 1954 Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. It was screened a year or so before the 1957 Atlantic crossing by Jouko Salomaa — Movie poster for Luis Bunel’s 1954 Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. It was screened a year or so before the 1957 Atlantic crossing by Jouko Salomaa at Cassels movie theater in Grangesberg, Sweden

Sample Daniel Defoe Robinson Crusoe text: In this distress the mate of our vessel laid hold of the boat, and with the help of the rest of the men got her slung over the ship’s side; and getting all into her, let go, and committed ourselves, being eleven in number, to God’s mercy and the wild sea; for though the storm was abated considerably, yet the sea ran dreadfully high upon the shore, and might be well called den wild zee, as the Dutch call the sea in a storm.

And now our case was very dismal indeed; for we all saw plainly that the sea went so high that the boat could not live, and that we should be inevitably drowned. As to making sail, we had none, nor if we had could we have done anything with it; so we worked at the oar towards the land, though with heavy hearts, like men going to execution; for we all knew that when the boat came near the shore she would be dashed in a thousand pieces by the breach of the sea. However, we committed our souls to God in the most earnest manner; and the wind driving us towards the shore, we hastened our destruction with our own hands, pulling as well as we could towards land.

What the shore was, whether rock or sand, whether steep or shoal, we knew not. The only hope that could rationally give us the least shadow of expectation was, if we might find some bay or gulf, or the mouth of some river, where by great chance we might have run our boat in, or got under the lee of the land, and perhaps made smooth water. But there was nothing like this appeared; but as we made nearer and nearer the shore, the land looked more frightful than the sea.

Scanned image by Philip V. Allingham. The illustrator presents a convincing panorama of the wrecked merchantman off the coast of a remote island off the South American coast (left), with several small figures (presumably, one of them Crusoe). London publisher: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, 1863-64

Jouko Salomaa, Robinson Crusoe and Friday, 1957, ink on paper. Gifted by Jouko to classmate Lennart Hansson before Jouko's ocean departure — Jouko Salomaa, Robinson Crusoe and Friday, 1957, ink on paper. Gifted by Jouko to classmate Lennart Hansson before Jouko’s ocean departure

June 19, 2026June 19, 2026

Christopher Rouleau: Selling Canada

by Steve Rockwell

Christopher Rouleau, 2026, 12 Brilliant Colors, Latex, acrylic and enamel on canvas, 54" × 72" — Christopher Rouleau, 2026, **12 Brilliant Colors**, Latex, acrylic and enamel on canvas, 54″ × 72″

The message in Christopher Rouleau’s “12 Brilliant Colors” exhibition is direct. If you don’t get the picture, he spells it out in two languages, each ‘brilliant color’ numbered from one to twelve. The charm of the artist’s work at the Red Head Gallery in Toronto is the absence of ambiguity. Rouleau’s ego never gets in the way of his painted intent. By not wearing his angry, tormented artist tuque, the “Selling of Canada” paintings strike us directly where we live – a “double-double” caffeine-induced sugar rush from a Tim Hortons cup of coffee.

Christopher Rouleau, 2026, Tons, latex and acrylic on plywood, 24 x 18 x 1/2 inch; Ketchup Wars, latex and acrylic on canvas, bubble mailer filling, 36 x 18 x 2 inches; Loss, latex and enamel on canvas-wrapped box, 18 x 18 x 18 inches

To a Canadian, each meticulously-rendered image is a mental billboard along the highway of Canada’s history. As an immigrant kid on my first day at Golden Avenue Public School in South Porcupine, my own pack of “12 Brilliant Colors” landed on my desk on the first day of school. That’s how I remember it – cellophane-wrapped pencil crayons with a picture of a snow-covered log home below the word “Laurentian,” loosely-lettered in red.

The “Selling of Canada” has continued unabated since its confederation in 1867. In fact, even before there was a Canada there was Rupert’s Land. French fur traders Radison and Groseilliers learned that the best furs were found around the “frozen sea” of Hudson Bay. Since the French governor refused to back their plan to set up a trading post on the Bay, one thing led to another, until the fur trading duo got an audience with England’s Charles II through Prince Rupert, the king’s cousin. And the rest is history: the “Selling of Canada” began in earnest by the Hudson’s Bay Company with an act of government in 1689. “Made Beaver” became not just a brand but a commercial trading standard.

Christopher Rouleau's "Selling Canada" installation view — Christopher Rouleau’s “Selling Canada” installation view

Rouleau’s “12 Brilliant Colors” are rooted in the beauty of the land itself, here specifically the Quebec Laurentians, a crayon for every month of the year. A century ago, the Group of Seven placed a national stamp over the color and texture over Canada’s landscape. Influenced importantly by Tom Thomson, the Group expanded northward through Algoma beyond Lake Superior to the Rockies and the Arctic. To the east Quebec’s Charlevoix and Laurentian regions supplied the drama of shoreline and mountain. Branded into the consciousness these images in oil served as advertisement readymades for Canadian National and Pacific railways to sell travel across “Scenic Canada.” If going by car, vacationers might as well ride on “Canadian Tires.”

Christopher Rouleau, 2026, HBCanadian Tire, Latex and acrylic on canvas, 30" × 60" — Christopher Rouleau, 2026, **HBCanadian Tire**, Latex and acrylic on canvas, 30″ × 60″

While Rouleau’s “Selling Canada” works are admittedly nostalgic, tapping into decades of collective memory, their insinuation casts a deeper, more complex shadow. As hieroglyphs of national identity, by virtue of their visual familiarity, the viewer is rendered essentially defenceless to their impact. Much like the work of Jeff Koons, Rouleau’s paintings here are “critic-proof.” To whatever might be said about his show, an apt response by the artist might simply be, “I intended it.”

To some extent, Rouleau even seems not to be “wedded” to the paintings on display. “Selling Canada” may be read as a sample documentation of slices from our environment, mechanically reproduced. As the artist’s “Christopher” business card reads: “lettering, signs, graphic design,” implying that if the viewer were not impressed with the paintings display, he would be happy to provide ones more suitable to their taste.

Selling Canada: Guest Artist Christopher Rouleau, May 27 – June 20, 2026 at the Red Head Gallery, 401 Richmond Street West, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M5V 3A8

June 9, 2026June 30, 2026

Uncollage—Seamless Unison

Essay by Todd Bartel

Mildred I. Washington Art Gallery/Dutchess Community College
Todd Bartel, Curator

The term ‘Uncollage’ uses the prefix ‘un’ to denote when collage is not glued physically, but is glued intellectually. Uncollage – Seamless Unison examines the neologism by showcasing various practices of imagery fusion and providing comparative examples of cut-and-paste collage demonstrating the differences between physical gluing and immaterial gluing across a wide range of media.

Budd Hopkins, Collage for Mahler's Castle, 1970, collaged paper, paint, 16 x 20 inches (photo Todd Bartel) — **Budd Hopkins**, Collage for Mahler’s Castle, 1970, collaged paper, paint, 16 x 20 inches (photo Todd Bartel)

Budd Hopkins, Study for Mahler's Castle, 1972, acrylic on canvas, 36 x 53 inches (photo Todd Bartel) — **Budd Hopkins**, Study for Mahler’s Castle, 1972, acrylic on canvas, 36 x 53 inches (photo Todd Bartel)

I first used the term ‘Uncollage’ in 1999 to describe paintings that depend on image collection and are painted without physical additions glued to the surface—such as the work of Archibaldo, Grandma Moses, Mark Tansey, and Julie Heffernan, all of whom I have also published articles on. All too often, what comes to mind when the word ‘collage’ is uttered is glued paper, but collage is so much more. Collage is an operation that does not require paper or glue, and can be appreciated any time a creative process involves composite incorporation. I presented my thesis at the first annual Kolaj Fest, in New Orleans in the summer of 2018, a multi-day festival & symposium about contemporary collage and its role in art, culture, and society hosted by Kolaj magazine. After that, I expanded the concept in a series of 4 articles, published by Kolaj magazine in 2019 and another four articles since then, as well as written several exhibition essays for shows in the U.S., Portugal and Spain, which has led me to assemble the essays in a forthcoming book, Uncollage & Immaterial Glue — the Collected Essays of Todd Bartel that will be available in early July, 2026.

Julie Heffernan, Self-Portrait as Growth, 1994, oil on canvas, 55 ¼ x 69 x 1 ¾ inches (photo Todd Bartel) — **Julie Heffernan**, Self-Portrait as Growth, 1994, oil on canvas, 55 ¼ x 69 x 1 ¾ inches (photo Todd Bartel)

Uncollage—Seamless Unison assembles the art of thirty-one emerging, well-established, and historically notable artists, including the Abstract Expressionist painter Budd Hopkins (1931 – 2011). Hopkins, who wrote the influential essay, Modernism And The Collage Aesthetic, often made facsimile collage studies for his abstract paintings, and examples of each are the first works visitors encounter inside the gallery. The show includes paintings by Julie Heffernan, Bo Joseph, Fern Apfel, Brian Bishop, D. Dominick Lombardi, Ginnie Gardiner, Talin Megherian, Justin Richel, Denise Shaw, and Amy Talluto, who all fuse collage-based strategies to import and juxtapose collected imagery. Lombardi’s painting is noteworthy for repurposing a previously “completed” painting with complementary stylistic additions.

Ginnie Gardiner, Interlusion 45, 2022, oil on linen, 40 x 60 inches (photo Ginnie Gardiner) — **Ginnie Gardiner**, Interlusion 45, 2022, oil on linen, 40 x 60 inches (photo Ginnie Gardiner)

The exhibition includes several examples of trompe l’oeil drawing and painting, including works by Brian Bishop, Laura Christensen, Ruth Marten, Leo Sousa, and Amy Talluto, and a trompe l’oeil sculpture by Justin Richel. In all of these pieces, the genre is enhanced by the incorporation of ideas, brought into the work, if not known references to other artists’ works. Similarly, Julie Blankenship, Christensen and Marten explore ‘Uncollage’ through altered readymade, employing various drawn and painted enhancements.

Amy Talluto, Alchemical Wasteland, 2021, oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches (photo James Petrozzello) — **Amy Talluto**, Alchemical Wasteland, 2021, oil on canvas, 40 x 50 inches (photo James Petrozzello)

Uncollage—Seamless Unison showcases several works that involve image transfer processes, including a Xerographic print on vintage paper by Michael Oatman, a hand-transferred Xerographic photo presented as an “original photograph” by Roma Megherian Bartel, and a painting with multiple acrylic gel-medium transfers by Denise Shaw.

Denise Shaw, Targeting, 2021, acrylic, photo transfer on linen, 60 x 30 inches (photo Katie Zaptka) — **Denise Shaw**, Targeting, 2021, acrylic, photo transfer on linen, 60 x 30 inches (photo Katie Zaptka)

The exhibit highlights an iconic multi-negative gelatin silver print by Jerry Uelsmann (1934 – 2022), whose analog work may be said to have anticipated Photoshop, and, emerging photographer Max Labelle, who photographs cutout photographed images of quotidian objects in real-world settings, which confuse flattened depictions of real objects in actual spaces. The show counterbalances these analog photographic processes with the works of veteran digital collage artists Fran Forman and Maggie Taylor, as well as the work of Leslie Fry, Samplerman (Yvan Guillo), Wendy Seller, and Rowan Buffington, whose hybrid piece provides a blended example of analog and digital applications of collage.

Jerry Uelsmann, Untitled, 1991, gelatin silver print, 3 negatives – sky ripples, rock, background, 14 x 11 inches (digital scan of original photo Jerry Uelsmann) — **Jerry Uelsmann**, Untitled, 1991, gelatin silver print, 3 negatives – sky ripples, rock, background, 14 x 11 inches (digital scan of original photo Jerry Uelsmann)

Maggie Taylor, Happiness, 2015, digital collage, archival inkjet print, 15 x 15 inches (courtesy of the artist) — **Maggie Taylor**, Happiness, 2015, digital collage, archival inkjet print, 15 x 15 inches (courtesy of the artist)

Also included in the show are several sculptures that more or less conceal their composite origins, such as D. Dominick Lombardi’s recycled refuse sculpture and Justin Richel’s stretched-canvas trompe l’oeil brick. There is also a objet trouvé bicycle by Jack Massey, an assisted readymade with an intellectual coupling to a well-known work by Pablo Picasso, as well as the conceptual sculptures of Darryl Lauster and Bo Joseph that expand the neologism into the time-honored practices of lost wax bronze sculpture.

Bo Joseph, Caput Mortuum: Create Yourself from Darkness, 2018, bronze, 20 ¼ x 24 ⅝ x 11 inches, Collection of Eliane van Reesema (photo Bo Joseph) — **Bo Joseph**, Caput Mortuum: Create Yourself from Darkness, 2018, bronze, 20 ¼ x 24 ⅝ x 11 inches, Collection of Eliane van Reesema (photo Bo Joseph)

**D. Dominick Lombardi**, CC 113 UC (The Impossibility of a Skinned Knee), 2021, found objects, sand, papier-mâché, gesso, acrylic medium, 11 ½ x 12 x 9 inches, photo courtesy of the artist

The show also includes examples of static and moving AI image generation by artists Joann, Will Close, and Máximo Tuja, as well as a multimedia installation by James Andrew Scott that blends analog drawing with pixelated digital video, using an array of four 4 x 4-foot LED panels to display looped video imagery incorporating abstracted versions of many of the works in the exhibition.

Máximo Tuja / Max-o-matic, 126 sextillion collages (A Microcosm), 2022-24, Digital Files Created with Custom-made Generative Art Software, Running Time: 120 min, (photo Máximo Tuja and Pardon Collection) — **Máximo Tuja / Max-o-matic,** 126 sextillion collages (A Microcosm), 2022-24, Digital Files Created with Custom-made Generative Art Software, Running Time: 120 min, (photo Máximo Tuja and Pardon Collection)

The unexpected diversity of media and imagery showcased in Uncollage—Seamless Unison reveals the term’s inclusivity, which credits collage in places not often considered collage-based. Máximo Tuja (Argentina/Spain, a.k.a. Max-o-matic), one of the creative forces behind The Weird Show, an independent platform dedicated to exploring and redefining contemporary collage since 2010, and an artist featured in Uncollage – Seamless Unison, described the concept this way: “Uncollage reminds us that the art of collage is not confined to tangible materials but extends into the realm of the immaterial. It highlights the versatility of collage as an artistic practice, allowing artists to explore and combine various elements, whether physical or conceptual, to create entirely new and meaningful compositions.”

Rowan Buffington, Fin, Rites of Passage series, 2024, digital collage (printed and assembled on vintage and photographic papers), 5 x 7 inches (photo courtesy of the artist) — **Rowan Buffington**, Fin, Rites of Passage series, 2024, digital collage (printed and assembled on vintage and photographic papers), 5 x 7 inches (photo courtesy of the artist)

The unofficial first exhibition of Uncollage paintings appeared at the Knoxville Museum of Art, where I was invited to peruse the museum’s online catalog of holdings and select half a dozen works from the collection that exemplified the concept for inclusion in the museum’s Currents exhibition as part of 2021 Kolaj Live Knoxville. I gave tours of the exhibition and spoke about the differing strategies of collage and uncollage. There was no invitation, title, or museum didactic for that show, which makes the Mildred I. Washington Art Gallery show the first of its kind. Unlike the unofficial show, the official version showcases a much wider breadth of the concept.

Uncollage – Seamless Unison is one of ten satellite exhibitions presented by the Transforming Collage Hudson Valley Exhibition Series this summer. The exhibitions are organized in conjunction with Making Meaning: A Collage Symposium, taking place July 22–24 at the Vassar Institute for the Liberal Arts in Poughkeepsie, NY. From their website, “This important gathering celebrates the evolving language of collage and the role of contemporary artists in shaping cultural dialogue, experimentation, and community connection.” There, I will present a slideshow about Uncollage and the exhibition at the Mildred I. Washington Art Gallery as one of the presenters of the Making Meaning Collage Symposium. Both the exhibition catalog and my forthcoming book, featuring the collection of my Uncollage essays, will be available at the symposium and on Lulu.com. Interested individuals can register to attend the symposium at: https://www.transformingcollage.com

The artist’s reception and gallery talk for Uncollage – Seamless Unison is scheduled for Friday, July 24, 3-6 PM. The exhibition runs from June 29 to July 31st, 2026
Making Meaning, organized and directed by Andrea Burgay & Monica Church, is from July 22 to July 24, 2026.