January in New York City is often characterized by a sense of ennui, but this year, several art exhibitions across the boroughs offered a thought-provoking exploration of isolation and resilience. Notably, the exhibitions at the Aristotle Psychological Facility in Astoria and various galleries in Manhattan provided a stark reflection of contemporary societal issues through the lens of art.
At the Aristotle Psychological Facility, I attended Jeffrey Joyal’s exhibition titled “my Life Underground.” This show marks a departure from the gallery’s traditional basement space, presenting works in a converted miniature ballroom adorned with a wrought-iron chandelier. The exhibition features eleven reproductions of Tom Otterness’s public art series “Life Underground,” originally created between 1998 and 2001. These small bronze sculptures depict immigrants, commuters, and tycoons, originally installed in the subway station at Fourteenth Street and Eighth Avenue.
Joyal’s reinterpretation involves illegal casts and scans of Otterness’s works, rendered in plaster, rubber, and clay. While the exhibition’s text positions these pieces as a tribute to New York’s overlooked commuters, it also serves as a critique of privatization and theft. Unlike Sherrie Levine’s cast bronze appropriations of Marcel Duchamp’s 1917 Fountain, Joyal’s reproductions remove their original context. In the subway, Otterness’s characters interact with commuters, sharing a moment of recognition. In contrast, Joyal’s pieces, displayed isolated on gallery tables, emphasize their disconnection from the public sphere.
This isolation can be seen as a metaphor for the current socio-political climate, where public resources are increasingly viewed as opportunities for private profit. Joyal heightens this commentary by creating garish reproductions of Otterness’s figures, including a cartoonish money bag and a miser, coated in a cheap chrome finish. These fragile reproductions, unlike their solid bronze counterparts, evoke a sense of decay and impermanence, underscoring the message that the essence of public art lies in its communal experience.
Following this exhibition, I visited Mitchell Kehe’s “Bonded by the Spirit of Doubt” at 15 Orient in TriBeCa. This expansive installation showcased canvases and assemblage sculptures constructed from discarded materials. In works like Untitled 1 (Bonded by the Spirit of Doubt) from 2026, Kehe explores themes of failure and reconstruction. The canvas features an irregular form that oscillates between painted figures and voids, suggesting an unresolved tension.
Another notable piece, Untitled 11 (Bonded by the Spirit of Doubt), displays a dynamic interplay of acrylics and oils that seem to seep into the linen surface. In front of the painting, the sculpture First Layer of Revelation (2026) presents a precarious structure made from boards and found objects, highlighting the fragile balance of reclaimed materials. Kehe’s work invites viewers to consider the instability of their own environments while embracing the charm of imperfection.
In stark contrast, Clémence de La Tour du Pin’s paintings at Derosia delve into themes of permanence and decay. Her eerie, large-scale pieces evoke images of fossils and petrified matter, suggesting a haunting permanence. Her largest work, Untitled (2025), stretches nearly twenty feet wide, resembling a tusk or bone, its surface marred by asphalt that evokes the passage of time.
Meanwhile, in Chinatown, John Duff’s exhibition at Reena Spaulings showcases a retrospective of his sixty-year career in resin, fiberglass, and concrete sculptures. Duff’s work often melds the fragile with the unyielding; his oldest pieces, such as Untitled (1968), resemble fossils crafted from aged fiberglass. In contrast, his more recent sculptures, like Untitled (2025), utilize concrete bound by a metal chain, raising questions about structural integrity and potential collapse under pressure.
As these exhibitions reflect on themes of isolation, decay, and resilience, they offer a compelling narrative for a city grappling with its identity in the new year. The midwinter art scene in New York serves not only as a creative outlet but also as a mirror to the societal pressures experienced by its inhabitants.
In this moment of reflection, the availability of therapeutic resources, such as those at the Aristotle Psychological Facility, provides a much-needed counterbalance to the pressures depicted in the art. As I concluded my tour, it became clear that while artistic expressions may capture moments of stillness and tension, the human spirit continues to seek connection and understanding amid the chaos of urban life.
