The arboreal designs featured in TASCHEN’s new book aren’t your dad’s Home Depot box variety. Uniquely stunning, all 62 structures in Modern Tree Houses respond to the surrounding environment, whether a tiny, winterized pod for escaping the snow or a split-level playground complete with climbing ropes and nests. Built by architects and amateurs alike, each dwelling is varied in material, layout, purpose, and aesthetic, although all thrive because of their proximity to nature’s beauty.

“Modern tree houses are proof that happiness doesn’t have to be built big—just built right,” author Florian Siebeck says, presenting an array of spaces from luxurious escapes to children’s hideouts. Pre-order your copy in the Colossal Shop.

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As a communication designer, Kelli Anderson began her career in information design. “The act of data visualization is all about bringing facts from the abstract and numerical realm into the sphere of perception, so you can see them,” she says in a video on Kickstarter. “And I thought, why stop there? What if you could also feel and experience those facts?”

Last year, Anderson launched a remarkable, five-years-in-the-making project called Alphabet in Motion: How Letters Get Their Shape, an ABC pop-up book about typography. She spent thousands of hours researching design archives and meticulously engineering kinetic and three-dimensional letters to show how type styles have evolved through the ages.

“If you look carefully at letters, you can see a secret history of the world—from the Bronze Age to the Information Age,” Anderson says. “But because many of these methods, tools, and machines are now obsolete, this history is challenging to follow. Alphabet in Motion leverages tactile, interactive features to help clarify how letters have transformed alongside technological upheavals and shifting aesthetic moods.”

The project is composed of two conjoined, detachable books. The pop-up section includes an interactive, seven-segment display cover that changes from A to Z, 17 moveable paper elements, and hands-on activities. The accompanying 128-page section contains an essay diving into the history and concept of each pop-up, plus 300 color images from the history of type design.

Anderson’s book originally funded on Kickstarter and is now being released more widely. Secure your copy in the Colossal Shop. Follow along with her work on Instagram, and you might also enjoy another of her projects, This Book Is a Camera.

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From record-breaking droughts and catastrophic flash floods to contaminated pipelines and increasingly thirsty AI farms, water is at the nexus of the climate crisis. The life-giving liquid is both scarce and too abundant, causing half the global population to lack sustained access to fresh drinking water, while much of the world is subject to hotter, wetter weather that subsumes communities with extreme conditions.

For designer, author, and activist Julia Watson, pinpointing myriad approaches to these all-consuming problems is one of the most critical and urgent tasks today. Her new book Lo-TEK Water, published by Taschen, highlights various Indigenous technologies and aquatic systems that could be utilized in adapting to a climate-changed world.

There are the two-meter-deep canals of Xochimilco, Mexico, which delineate 55,000 square meters of raised fields called chinampas. While built by the Aztecs to clean the water and irrigate crops, this system actually originated with the Nahua people. Similar are the floating islands of Intha Myanmar, which weave together roots, leaves, sediment, and other materials to create hydroponic beds.

Although Watson is keen to draw on ancient practices that could be more widely utilized today, she also highlights more modern approaches, like Pakistan’s Yasmeen Lari, an architect who’s responsible for devising the world’s largest program for creating shelters and cookware that leave no carbon footprint.

At 558 pages, Lo—TEK Water positions “water as an intelligent force that can shape resilient cities and landscapes. Aquatic infrastructure is reframed—from extractive and industrial into regenerative and evolving—designed to sustain life for generations,” a statement says.

Watson is a key voice in the broader Lo—TEK movement, and this new book is a companion to her previous volume focused on sustainable technologies. Find your copy on Bookshop.

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article ‘Lo—TEK Water’ Wants to Reshape the World Through Indigenous Technologies appeared first on Colossal.

As the days grow shorter and colder in the Northern Hemisphere, billions of birds are migrating south. Their routes, habitats, food sources, and behavior are incredibly varied. From distinctive plumage to sleeping habits to intimate connections, the world of avians is as about as expansive and awe-inspiring as it gets.

More than 11,000 species have been formally documented around the world, but there may be upwards of 20,000 depending on how they’re recorded. And through the eyes of fine art photographers, we’re afforded a stunning look into this unique world. A new book, Aviary: The Bird in Contemporary Photography, celebrates feathers and flight.

Published by Thames & Hudson, Aviary features the work of more than 50 international photographers. Colossal readers may recognize images by Joseph McGlennon, Søren Solkær, Tim Flach, Leila Jeffreys, and many more, all of whom approach their subjects with an eye for atmosphere and individual personalities.

Christine Ward’s “Connection,” for example, is an eminently relatable moment between two ravens. In Jeffreys’ portrait of an owl, we can imagine being given the side-eye, as if it knows more than it’s letting on, and the dangling songbird in Kimberly Witham’s “Still Life with Goldfinch, Bleeding Heart and Tulip” evokes a distinct sense of humor.

More than simply a catalogue of different species, the volume highlights vibrant and artistic portraits, landscapes, and candid moments that glimpse “our complex relationship with birds, questioning how we observe them and respond to their presence—and vice versa,” the publisher says.

Find your copy in the Colossal Shop.

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Dogs, they’re just like us! Perpetually anxious pizza lovers.

The pups taking center stage in Alison Friend’s beloved paintings sport a range of personalities that feel all too familiar: several hungrily snack on pastries, sip cocktails, and even present their self-portraits on everyone’s favorite toy, the Etch A Sketch.

Friend is known for her witty pieces that portray our domestic pals in the style of the Old Masters, lending a sense of reverence to her furry subjects. The artist’s first monograph, Dog Only Knows, is available this month from Artisan and collects 125 of her canine works, a small fraction of which are shown here.

Pre-order your copy in the Colossal Shop, and find more from Friend on Instagram.

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Whether portraying families at play, people walking along urban streets, or portraits of individuals, Derrick Adams celebrates Black identity and experience. His collage-like compositions evoke West African masks, reliquary figures, and other carved sculptures, highlighting contemporary, everyday scenes and leisure activities of Black Americans.

A new monograph from Monacelli surveys more than two decades of Adams’ geometric paintings, made in his signature multihued, faceted style. Derrick Adams is the first monograph to survey the artist’s entire career, tracing his stylistic evolution and the themes that recur throughout his paintings. His paintings capture “moments of joy, resilience, and celebration,” says a statement from the publisher.

Organized into three sections—Channeling, Signaling, and Mirroring—the book highlights the artist’s explorations of representation, identity, and the media. We also trace the evolution of his visual language, which he describes as “seriocomic imagery,” along with his “desire to see Black American experiences mirrored in art, in part rectifying the dearth of such imagery in art history,” the publisher says. “At its core, Adams’s project is a reinvigoration of the Black figure in art, an intention seen throughout the works in the book.”

The release of Derrick Adams sets the stage for a mid-career survey of the artist’s work at the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston. Titled View Finder, the show opens on April 16 and will present 150 works.

Derrick Adams is slated for release on October 22. Pre-order your copy from the Colossal Shop, and explore more on Adams’ website and Instagram.

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“Street photography is a way of life,” Jamel Shabazz says, a sentiment he’s embodied and shared with the public for the past half century. The legendary photographer is best known for documenting the style, culture, and political landscape of his native Brooklyn from the 1980s onward, part of which is now collected in a new book published by Prestel.

Prospect Park: Photographs of a Brooklyn Oasis, 1980 to 2025 contains 120 color and black-and-white images captured within the urban enclave. At 585 acres, the public park offers a vast area for gathering, exercising, and engaging with nature, and for Shabazz, it’s always been a refuge from life’s realities.

He began taking the photos in this collection after returning to New York following a 36-month service in the U.S. Army and while he worked for the Department of Corrections at the notorious Riker’s Island facility. For Shabazz, Prospect Park became a site of joy and community and a small escape from these everyday horrors.

Included in the monograph are several portraits that show what a fixture the photographer has been in the park. Warm, easy smiles and confident poses abound, and while the popular fashions and technology may change, so much of life depicted stays the same. The images glimpse how vital the outdoor space has remained over the years, as several generations climb trees, gather to look out over one of the lakes, or simply find joy in each other’s company.

Find more of Shabazz’s archive on Instagram, and pick up a copy of Prospect Park on Bookshop.

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article For 45 Years, Jamel Shabazz Photographed the Joyful Refuge of Prospect Park appeared first on Colossal.

Across a range of genres, from portraits to landscapes to wildlife, the work of 40 contemporary photographers features in a brand new book. Exposure: Contemporary Photographers in Australia and New Zealand, authored by Amber Creswell Bell, highlights an array of practices that explore fashion, Indigenous culture, nature, and more.

Published by Thames & Hudson Australia, Exposure “captures the essence of modern photography, showcasing bold perspectives, striking landscapes, and intimate portraits that reflect the region’s cultural richness and natural beauty,” says a statement.

Photography that may be familiar to Colossal readers include the bird portraits of Leila Jeffreys and Joseph McGlennon, along with the artistic self-portraits of Atong Atem.

The title is currently out in Australia and New Zealand and is slated for release in the U.S. in mid-January. Pre-order your copy on Bookshop.

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In 2022, twenty-one-year-old Tanya choked back tears as she held her boyfriend’s hand for what could be the last time. Crouching down to reach her, the military fatigue-clad Volodimir stands on a train headed for the city of Kramatorsk in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine. He’s on his way to the battlefield to fight Russia’s invasion.

Taken by Ilvy Nijokiktijen, the photo capturing this heartwrenching moment is one of nearly 200 included in a book and large-scale exhibition at Fenix, a new art museum in Rotterdam that focuses entirely on migration. The Family of Migrants takes a broad look at human movement from 1905 to the present day, citing a wide array of reasons someone might relocate from war and economic crises to exile and internment to a search for opportunities abroad.

Spanning documentary, portraits, and photojournalism, the included images emerge from 136 photographers in 55 countries across 120 years. Providing such an expansive perspective of movement connects myriad experiences—from a Ukrainian soldier off to war to a young Afghan refugee to a poverty-stricken mother and her children—and is an attempt to broaden how we think of migration.

“In every era, there has been movement of people, be it out of free will, out of necessity, or under pressure. Migration shapes the world, separating and connecting people, but when we talk about migration, the focus all too quickly shifts to figures or politics,” curator Hanneke Mantel says.

The title references the 1955 Museum of Modern Art exhibition, The Family of Man. Curated by Edward Steichen, the bold exhibition included hundreds of photos that presented a narrative of global solidarity after World War II. Steichan wanted to depict “the gamut of life from birth to death,” a task Mantel seems to take on at Fenix by sharing a fuller story of migration today.

The Family of Migrants, published by Hannibal Books, includes photos by icons like Dorothea Lange and Ernest Cole, along with those working today like Alejandro Cegarra. Find your copy on Bookshop.

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article Spanning 120 Years and 55 Countries, ‘The Family of Migrants’ Portrays a Broad Story of Human Movement appeared first on Colossal.

This conversation is an exclusive excerpt from NINA CHANEL ABNEY © 2025. Reproduced by permission from The Monacelli Press. All rights reserved. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Jeffrey Deitch: Nina, I’ve always been inspired by your expansive vision of what an artist can do. Your achievement in painting and works on paper is really outstanding—as is your NFT startup; your interest in multiples—but I’m very curious about your interest in public art murals. We did several of them together; so Iʼd like to ask you to start [by speaking] about this expansive vision you have about being an artist and reaching a broad public.

Nina Chanel Abney: I think it first comes out of my natural inclination to work in many different mediums. Growing up and looking at [the work of] Henri Matisse and Andy Warhol, my understanding of a masterful artist was an artist who evolved their practice through experimentation with different mediums. When I knew I wanted to be an artist, I aspired to have a career in which each body of work propels my practice forward.

Deitch: I remember a discussion we had some years ago about proposing a balloon for the Macyʼs Thanksgiving Day Parade. They didn’t understand how great you were, but I was very impressed then—and that was some years ago—very impressed by your ambition to reach people with your art.

Abney: I have always appreciated graffiti artists and their ability to reach a broad audience. The idea that anyone could access art just by walking by it and the idea of being able to share my work with a larger public has become more interesting for me, showing people how you can discover art in the everyday—whether thatʼs a sneaker or a billboard. I am always looking to find new ways to do that.

Deitch: Our first project together was your great mural at Coney Island. Somehow, I had the instinct that we had to position you right at the center, give you the great entrance wall, and your work was phenomenal.

Abney: Thank you very much.

Deitch: Was that one of the first public murals you did?

Abney: Yes, it was one of the first. The very first one I did was in Newark, New Jersey, off of McCarter Highway with Project for Empty Space. They did a program where they worked with about eighteen different artists through a long span of the highway, and each artist got a section of the wall. When given the opportunity, I said, “Of course I’ll do it.”

Most everyone involved was a full-time graffiti artist. I completely underestimated what the project would entail. We were working crazy hours to avoid traffic, basically midnight to 5:00 a.m. It was about 1:00 a.m. and I went there with spray paint in hand, arrogantly thinking I could just start working directly on the wall. I realized, “Oh my God this is… an entire other way of working, a talent I don’t have.” I was on the verge of tears, panicking at 3:00 in the morning on the side of the highway, thinking, “I don’t even know how to do this.” It was a learning curve.

In that moment, I had to figure out how to translate my work into a large-scale mural. Thatʼs when I began using tape and creating stencils to adapt my imagery to a larger scale. That was the very first mural. After I conquered the first mural, I did one in Detroit with Library Street Collective and Coney Island came after. Fortunately, every opportunity led to another, allowing me to improve my technique along the way. I might still do a balloon [for the Macyʼs parade]. I found a loophole, I think.

Deitch: That would be very exciting. I love how you think. By the time you did your third mural at Coney Island, you had totally perfected it. It was incredible and so impressive to see you and your team. We more recently did this project in Miami with two gigantic multi-story walls and a tunnel, and that was phenomenal. It was amazing to see how you had put together this team that allows you to create massive works of public art.

Abney: At first, I was doing the murals with one studio assistant, which was labor intensive because I work intuitively. It truly felt like doing an extremely large painting in a very condensed timeline, sometimes less than a week. It didn’t seem sustainable. Also, I realized that maybe I’m a little afraid of heights. Thatʼs when I came up with a different strategy.

My friend JJ, who helps me manage my mural projects, introduced me to an amazing team of women painters who are capable of working on the side of skyscrapers with no fear. Theyʼre badass and have been helping me paint murals ever since. There’s great synergy.

Deitch: Oh, thatʼs fascinating. Iʼd like to talk about how you approach the work. I read in a previous interview that you do not do preparatory sketches. Is that correct? It seemed with the complexity your work, one would think that there are numerous preparatory sketches.

Abney: There are not. If I sketched the piece beforehand, Iʼd lose interest and wouldn’t want to paint it. The excitement for me comes from the unknown—the spontaneity and problem-solving in the moment to create a cohesive composition.

Deitch: Thatʼs extraordinary. It’s very rare that an artist can create these large-scale complex works without numerous preparatory drawings. I’ve seen that with Keith Haring, who would be able to start a large painting or mural in the upper left corner and move across, but thatʼs amazing that this is all internalized. It’s almost like a jazz improvisation that you do.

Abney: Each painting becomes a puzzle for me to solve.

Deitch: Something that I admire immensely in your work is the inherent rhythm of the composition: in classic critical art terms, one talks about the color, the edge, things that you associate with painting. Rhythm does not generally come up, but thatʼs something thatʼs so inherent in your work. Looking at a large painting of yours, I can see it move. I can feel the rhythm. Iʼd like to ask you about that aspect of your work, because thatʼs quite unique.

Abney: The work is rhythmic because I aim to create movement across the canvas so that the viewer’s gaze is never stagnant. To achieve this, I have created systems and techniques that utilize color, shape, repetition, and text. I want the work to keep your attention.

Deitch: Do you have a background as an athlete or a dancer? The rhythm is so physical.

Abney: I played tennis. I still play tennis. I played soccer, basketball… I was always very athletic when I was younger, and I play the piano.

Deitch: I didn’t know that. Do you have a classical training or was it more jazz piano?

Abney: Classical, but I have always wanted to learn jazz. I have several cousins who were self-taught jazz [musicians].

Deitch: Your improvisational talent goes into the painting?

Abney: Yes.

Deitch: Thatʼs so fascinating, because your paintings do have a sound, in a way.

Abney: I would love to learn jazz. I recently bought some books and a piano to try to teach myself.

Deitch: Did you get to the point where you were a performer also or was it more just your own study?

Abney: With classical, I performed in recitals as a kid with my stepsister, who was, at the time, learning opera. It’s so wild when I think about it. We would do some recitals together, I would play and she would sing. Outside of that, after a certain point, I didn’t really take it up. I feel like I quit after I realized I needed glasses or something. That was in the ’80s, early childhood, but I kept with it. I can still play now.

Deitch: Let’s talk about your trajectory. There’s an unusual year where you worked in a Ford factory, one of the only contemporary artists I know who actually had that kind of experience. It seems that and other aspects of your background had given you a sympathy for the working class. Your art addresses everyday people in the city, not only the art elite.

Abney: I am everyday people, I come from everyday people. My mom worked for almost forty years at the unemployment agency, my stepfather delivered Pepsi®. I come from humble beginnings, so being catapulted into this elite art world has been interesting. I still feel like an outsider sometimes, though I am a part of this “art world.”

Deitch: A lot of your work has a strong social-political message. Iʼd like to ask you about how you integrate messaging with the formal aspects of the work.

Abney: My whole way of working, from color, humor, and seducing the viewer into challenging topics in a way in which they want to stay, comes from my own experience with artwork. I noticed that with works that are overly didactic, people tend not to spend much time with them since they feel like they already have the work figured out. I want to create work that can be visually engaging: it can make you think, but also, provoke self-interrogation.

Deitch: It’s also fascinating the way you invite entry into the work by your use of humor.

Abney: When I was younger, I wanted to be a cartoonist. I love the most sarcastic animations. I was a big fan of Hanna-Barbera. Thatʼs where I got my sense of humor. With animation, you can walk the line of inappropriateness. I’m interested in that play, too.

Deitch: Do you have some plans for an animated film?

Abney: I actually wrote a cartoon with my partner, Jet Toomer, and our friend, Zoe Lister-Jones. We wrote a cartoon based off me and my younger sister’s relationship, but we threw a wrench in. We have turned the family structure thatʼs usually depicted in animation on its head.

Deitch: It sounds brilliant. Maybe I can help you to make that happen.

Abney: Maybe. I’m even thinking maybe a short film, centered around the same concept, and would love to do it at the Sundance Film Festival because they have an animation program. The film industry, from what I’ve learned, is so different, even in the approach to ownership and intellectual property. I feel like I’m more independent-minded when it comes to that, where Iʼd rather take the time and do it myself.

Deitch: Well, thatʼs one of the greatest things about being an artist: You do not have a boss. Nobody’s telling you what you can do.

Abney: I don’t want to have to compromise my vision to make things more mainstream. When you’re not conforming, people might see it as risky, but there are communities that are rarely considered in film and television and thatʼs who I would like to prioritize.

Deitch: Fascinating. I anticipate you will be able to realize this.

Abney: I hope so.

Deitch: In your approach to your art, there’s a lot of references from the vernacular—you mentioned strip clubs and sororities—but you also have so many deep art historical references. I imagine you’ve deeply studied Pablo Picasso, Romare Bearden, Stuart Davis… I want to ask you about these art historical references that you build on, that are inside your work, that you must have studied.

Abney: Actually, funny story, Stuart Davis… I hadn’t even heard of him until I was working on a show called I DREAD TO THINK [October 18 – November 24, 2012, at Kravets Wehby Gallery, in collaboration with Anna Kustera Gallery, New York, NY]. When I was working on that show, Lowery Stokes Sims came to my studio and brought up Stuart Davis, assuming I was aware of his work. Immediately after that, I was obsessed. I didn’t know much about contemporary art until I came to New York for graduate school at Parsons School of Design.

The first show I went to was a Marina Abramović performance at the Guggenheim and my mind was blown. Parsons was an intense education because I was playing catch up to the contemporary art history while trying to become a contemporary artist, myself.

My references came from what was available to me when I was younger. I mean, everyone knows Picasso. I had field trips to the Art Institute of Chicago, where I learned about Chuck Close and Georges Seurat. I had some exposure to Black artists through The Cosby Show.

Deitch: Really? From the TV show? Thatʼs fascinating. It must be thrilling for you to see your work influencing artists who are of the younger generation.

Abney: It’s surreal to know that my work is being studied in classes. I still can’t believe it. Because I have become an influence to others, I feel a responsibility to keep pushing the boundaries of my own practice, exploring new mediums and delving into industries in which people who look like me aren’t represented. It’s crazy to think that I could be a part of art history. If you named the period of art we’re in now, what would it be? I don’t know…

Deitch: Well, you’re one of the people defining it. Fascinating to know that you studied both computer science and art, because most artists, if you ask, “What did you study?” they’ll probably say poetry and art. I think maybe part of the rigor thatʼs in your work comes from this study of computer science. Could you elaborate a little bit about that, about the dual mind that you bring to your artwork?

Abney: I intended on being a computer programmer because I couldn’t fathom having a career as an artist. I didn’t know how artists made money and I needed a sustainable job, but I didn’t like going to work. When I started the major, however, I quickly thought, “This isn’t for me.” It was hours of trying to figure out a program that may simply not work because of a missing semicolon.

Everything happens for a reason. My grades were horrible. I was barely holding onto my computer science major. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I was helping a friend with his homework and he accidentally turned in a copy of my homework as his. When I get my assignment back from the professor, I have a big F written in red marker. I look at my friend like, “What happened?” The professor had circled my name on his paper—he also had an F. It was a major assignment, and she would not change my grade. That class was so vital, it put my major in jeopardy, so I dropped computer science and focused on art.

I also wanted to be a graphic designer. I was learning how to design websites during my summers off. I thought, “Graphic design, thatʼs how I’ll get paid as an artist,” but when I got out of undergrad, I got pretty much rejected from every graphic design program I applied to. I worked for a little bit and thatʼs when I said, “Maybe I’ll try painting.” Thatʼs how that all came about.

I still have a definite interest in graphic design… I feel like most people don’t realize that we were all teaching ourselves HTML code to create cool pages on Black Planet. We were learning HTML to play music play or feature graphics on our social media pages. I was fascinated by it.

Deitch: Prior to our talk, I was looking through the catalog of your exhibition at the Nasher Museum of Art. It’s very interesting to see how your work has evolved. The figures were much looser, Iʼd say a little less rhythmic in the composition, and progressively become more abstracted, the rhythms more complex. Iʼd like to ask you about the evolution of your work over this period.

Abney: My work was always critiqued for being too flat, so I had a specific preconceived notion of what a “good” painting was, and that was one that was rendered realistically. The earlier work is a by-product of this mentality. Over the last twenty years, I have been moving away from this way of thinking and towards abstraction, which I feel is more freeing.

Deitch: You’ve evolved a completely unique style thatʼs only you, that is instantly recognizable, which is quite an achievement.

Abney: Thank you. It’s been a long journey to block out the noise and be in tune with my own voice.

Deitch: You have your own artistic vocabulary thatʼs yours. It’s remarkable. Very few artists can achieve that.

Abney: Thanks. I’m still trying to unlearn a few things that have been restrictive to my practice, but I feel like I’m now at 80 percent of my true artist voice. There’s still work to be done.

Deitch: It’s good that you still have another 20 percent to achieve. Something that fascinates me is that you’ve been able to put together a narrative, where some of your work tells a story with an abstract set of images. Thatʼs quite rare to be able to be narrative, bold, and abstract at the same time. I think thatʼs quite an achievement.

Abney: When approaching my work that is representational, I aim to figure out the least amount of information needed. Thatʼs how I approach the imagery in my work now. For example, what’s the least amount of information needed for one to register a figure? How do I break this down to the simplest form? I try to remove unnecessary information to create a language that becomes universal.

Deitch: Another characteristic of your work is the integration of text. You’re using text almost as an abstraction, but it also becomes an essential part of the narrative.

Abney: I started using text because there are certain things I felt I just couldn’t paint. Some things just need to be said plainly. I also see letters and numbers as forms and shapes. I’m also interested in the use of text in advertisements.

Deitch: I look at your work as taking Pop art into the present.

Abney: I love Pop art, so thatʼs what I would hope to be achieving right now with my current work.

Deitch: You’re expanding into other media—some ambitious sculpture is coming. Iʼd like to ask you about your sculpture in relationship to the painting.

Abney: I’ve always wanted to work in sculpture, but I was waiting until the right moment. I could not figure how I could organically translate my paintings to sculpture. I had no idea what my sculpture was going to look like. It took so much time to figure it out and now it’s finally here.
I took the first step by making a vinyl toy, which allowed me to see how my work could look three-dimensionally. That was the start and things have been quickly evolving. In the past year alone, I’ve made over ten sculptural works. Eventually, I want to do large public sculpture that can be interactive. I’m not necessarily interested in creating monuments, but works that people can sit on, sculpture that is functional.

Deitch: I read some exciting news this week about your being selected as one of the artists commissioned for New York’s new John F. Kennedy International Airport terminal. It seemed that you were thinking of doing a sculpture.

Abney: I am. I’m working with a material I’ve never worked with before, stained glass, inspired by New York City iconography.

Deitch: That will be brilliant. Now, we’re here at Pace Prints in New York City for this conversation, and you’ve really reinvented how to make a print, how to make collage. I’m fascinated by how you’ve taken this well-traveled medium of all the artists who have made prints or works on paper and you’ve done it in a fresh way.

Abney: I held out for years when it came to doing prints. Many printmakers or print shops would approach me and say, “You know, your work would translate so well to print-making,” and I would turn them down in hopes of working specifically with Pace Prints. Also, my understanding of prints was limited. When I thought of an edition, I only thought of an image of an existing work. So for the longest time, I was not interested in doing this.

I got a C in my printmaking class. I didn’t have enough patience for the process. I did an etching, and it was the most tedious thing, so I never thought I would end up loving printmaking. Fortunately, I was introduced to [President of Pace Prints] Jacob Lewis and the printmakers of Pace Prints. I was blown away by the work that they were doing.

We started working together, and it’s such a collaborative process. We challenge each other to think beyond traditional printmaking and create unique works that explore collage and expand the conversation around paper as a medium.

Deitch: Well, your prints have the impact of complex paintings.

Abney: Thatʼs what we hope to achieve.

Deitch: Of all the important contemporary artists I follow, your work is sexier than almost anyone else’s, but it’s never vulgar. Iʼd like to ask you about how you insert the sexuality and the sexual power in the work in this strong way thatʼs elegant and impactful, but never vulgar.

Abney: It comes from a sincere place of wanting to destigmatize the idea that sexuality is vulgar… and thatʼs one of the reasons I moved to New York—it’s forward-thinking energy fosters self-expression and challenges outdated norms.

I’ve always wanted to tell you that when I first came [to New York] to go to graduate school, your gallery was one of the first that I went to. You had a show with Kehinde Wiley with a band that performed on Wooster Street and that blew my mind. It was a very impactful experience that expanded what I thought of art as an expression and as a career.

Deitch: That was our goal, to inspire people. I really, really love hearing that it had such an impact on you.

Abney: I have always wanted to work with you because your exhibitions are ambitious, fun, smart, and not so uptight. With our February 2025 show [Winging It], it’s a full circle moment.

Deitch: Let’s close by talking about what you hope to realize in the next few years, expanding your work, both pushing the painting practice and also expanding into more popular areas.

Abney: I want to prioritize sculpture and public work in the coming years. Right now, I’m very interested in installation. I’ve been thinking about Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirror Rooms—something more experiential that can travel. Also, animation production, and I can do something new in that space that hasn’t been done before. I’m also very much interested in creating more products, specifically, sneakers.

Deitch: A lot to look forward to.

Pick up a copy of Nina Chanel Abney, which will be released on October 23, in the Colossal Shop. Limited signed copies are available from Phaidon. Find more from the artist on her website and Instagram.

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $7 per month. The article Nina Chanel Abney and Jeffrey Deitch On Finding the True Artist’s Voice [Exclusive] appeared first on Colossal.