The Art We’re Obsessed with in January 2024
“The Art We’re Obsessed With” is a new monthly series paying homage to the artworks Artsy staff members can’t stop thinking about, and why.
From little-known artists our editors stumble across at local shows, to artworks going viral on our platform, these are the artworks we’re obsessed with this month.
Mirela Cabral, Dedham II, 2023
Drinking in the dazzling cool tones of this work by São Paulo–based artist Mirela Cabral, my eyes first register a symphony of abstraction, in joyful, oscillating marks. Zooming in, the lush shapes of a jungle scene emerge from the delightful cacophony of refracting light: the curvaceous outlines of tropical trees, a sky-blue waterway, a triad of canoes, and the suggestion of a bridge, calling to mind Claude Monet’s 1899 masterpiece Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies. I can almost feel the sunshine—a welcome feeling as we navigate the darkest days of winter here in New York City.
—Jordan Huelskamp, Curatorial Lead
Meredith Sellers, A Fly And A Whale, 2019
Meredith Sellers is a Philadelphia-based artist whose work considers ecological and economic violence by colliding art historical references with contemporary, photorealistic imagery. When I saw her painting featured in a group show at Swivel Gallery’s new space in Bushwick, I was drawn in by its juxtapositions. Its gestural, ink-washed background feels at odds with the crisp edges of the images embedded within; it creates visual echoes between silken flower petals and marbled meat, putting natural beauty in conversation with gore. That, and I’m a sucker for memento mori—in this case, the fly perched on Sellers’s gorgeously rendered tulip is a reminder of death, made all the more potent through its pairing with a well-known symbol of capitalist excess.
—Olivia Horn, Associate Managing Editor
Ulala Imai, Oyster, 2020
Japanese artist Ulala Imai evokes quiet contemplation through her depictions of everyday objects. Applying soft brushstrokes, Imai adds expressive contours and subtle textures, creating a blurred effect. This tranquil still-life painting features a close-up view of an oyster against a crisp white plate, while a yellow lemon slice contrasts the muted tones to inject a sense of optimism. There’s something very relatable about the way contemporary artists are reimagining the classic genre of still life—the oyster as a solitary symbol embodies sensuality, suggesting a playful sense of desire. Minimalist compositions become vessels for human emotions, leaving space for viewers to weave their own personal narratives.
—Adeola Gay, Curatorial Manager
Pixy Liao, Golden Mouse, 2014
I find it hard to look away from Pixy Liao’s staged photographs, which portray the artist and her boyfriend in awkward positions, often in the nude. This work, Golden Mouse (2014), on show in Blindspot Gallery’s current show in Hong Kong, is less R-rated than many of her others, but that leaves the viewer to find a subtler eroticism in the intimacy of interlocking fingers and high-shine glamour of the red nail varnish and gold mouse. I love the suggestion of domination in how one hand covers another, enforcing decisions on a screen somewhere out of frame.
—Josie Thaddeus-Johns, Editor
Delcy Morelos, Untitled, 2019
I’m sure I’m in good company among those who’ve visited Dia Chelsea lately and can’t stop thinking about Delcy Morelos. The Colombian artist’s all-consuming installations transform mud into stunning Minimalist sculptures that fill cavernous rooms, drawing on Andean and Amazonian cosmologies, as well as a clear reverence for nature in its humblest forms. These works are salves for the eyes and the mind, yes, but also the fingertips and the nostrils; both works at Dia give off sweet wafts of cinnamon and cloves, and one invites gentle touch. “If you hurt her, you hurt me, you hurt yourself,” Morelos instructs the viewer. This wasn’t my first run-in with the artist’s work—just as enchanting were her creations at the Venice Biennale in 2022 and Marian Goodman’s Paris gallery this past October. This drawing from the latter show channels the energy and sensations of Morelos’s earthworks—their warm, mesmeric Minimalism and peaceful communing with nature.
—Casey Lesser, Editor in Chief & Director of Content
Paula Turmina, Secret Garden, 2023
I find comfort in Paula Turmina’s sun-drenched earth tones. Her strikingly warm paintings of deserts—populated by surreal elongated figures and plant life—convey the vulnerability of memory through the vastness of the empty desert. Her landscapes make me think of the climate crisis and our turbulent relationship with the planet, though they’re often playfully sprinkled with small jokes. In her 2023 painting Secret Garden, behind the wilting plants and under the beating sun, I’m fixated on the human outline formed by ants against the scorched earth.
—Maxwell Rabb, Staff Writer
