Today’s Paper (with flies) depicts a self-portrait of the artist seated in front of their NYC studio, reading a newspaper, as presented in a digital TV format. The paper’s image within is updated with the latest edition daily; continuously reflecting the passing of time and the news of the moment. Over the course of a 24-hour cycle, algorithmically animated flies appear within the tableau with increasing frequency. Utilizing automated algorithms, Versteeg’s works manipulate and distort digital content and present them in newer contexts, gently teasing with elements of space and time.

Java Jones (Selma, AL) is an anti-disciplinary artist, curator, and scholar based in New York City. Regarding image-making, Jones engages with a diverse range of processes that respond to evolving advancements in camera technologies, from darkroom and traditional photographic processes to AI and subtractive manufacturing. The artist’s practice emphasizes the tactile, sculptural performance of images, examining how multi-sensory engagement can deepen our relationship with photography beyond visual perception.

Java Jones (Selma, AL) is an anti-disciplinary artist, curator, and scholar based in New York City. Regarding image-making, Jones engages with a diverse range of processes that respond to evolving advancements in camera technologies, from darkroom and traditional photographic processes to AI and subtractive manufacturing. The artist’s practice emphasizes the tactile, sculptural performance of images, examining how multi-sensory engagement can deepen our relationship with photography beyond visual perception.

In his Crayola crayon drawings, Atticus Bergman constructs systems of evocative ambiguity. These compositions often explore the crisis of meaning that exists at the edge of human culture, where the language of human self-understanding denatures and aesthetic indeterminacy is encouraged to bloom.

In other words, his images thrive in the space where familiar distinctions begin to collapse: e.g. the absurd and the profound, the mortal and the divine, the human and the animal. As such, they remain especially attentive to the inscrutable countenance of creatures and babies, as well as to the historical legacy of artworks that have emerged from moments of violent theological debate, such as Byzantine icons, Lutheran altarpieces, and Fayum mummy portraits.

In his Crayola crayon drawings, Atticus Bergman constructs systems of evocative ambiguity. These compositions often explore the crisis of meaning that exists at the edge of human culture, where the language of human self-understanding denatures and aesthetic indeterminacy is encouraged to bloom.

In other words, his images thrive in the space where familiar distinctions begin to collapse: e.g. the absurd and the profound, the mortal and the divine, the human and the animal. As such, they remain especially attentive to the inscrutable countenance of creatures and babies, as well as to the historical legacy of artworks that have emerged from moments of violent theological debate, such as Byzantine icons, Lutheran altarpieces, and Fayum mummy portraits.

In his Crayola crayon drawings, Atticus Bergman constructs systems of evocative ambiguity. These compositions often explore the crisis of meaning that exists at the edge of human culture, where the language of human self-understanding denatures and aesthetic indeterminacy is encouraged to bloom.

In other words, his images thrive in the space where familiar distinctions begin to collapse: e.g. the absurd and the profound, the mortal and the divine, the human and the animal. As such, they remain especially attentive to the inscrutable countenance of creatures and babies, as well as to the historical legacy of artworks that have emerged from moments of violent theological debate, such as Byzantine icons, Lutheran altarpieces, and Fayum mummy portraits.

In his Crayola crayon drawings, Atticus Bergman constructs systems of evocative ambiguity. These compositions often explore the crisis of meaning that exists at the edge of human culture, where the language of human self-understanding denatures and aesthetic indeterminacy is encouraged to bloom.

In other words, his images thrive in the space where familiar distinctions begin to collapse: e.g. the absurd and the profound, the mortal and the divine, the human and the animal. As such, they remain especially attentive to the inscrutable countenance of creatures and babies, as well as to the historical legacy of artworks that have emerged from moments of violent theological debate, such as Byzantine icons, Lutheran altarpieces, and Fayum mummy portraits.

An oversized sneaker, with an ankle substituted by lumber, kept cozy by a sock. Shoes are vessels for the tips of our lower extremities and consumable symbols of status. An art dealer once told me that, when someone enters their gallery, the first thing they look at is their shoes.

This painting was created around 2008-2009. I was an avid cycling fan and was obsessed with the lesser-known 'King of the Mountain' jersey from Le Tour de France, hilariously designed with red polka dots on white. It was a clown suit for the most talented hill climber in the world’s greatest cycling race.

This painting was the final piece in a group of works created for my 2016 show at Susanne Hilberry Gallery. It was compiled from studio detritus over several months while I was simultaneously creating molds of ginger, avocado, and grapefruit. The pile was then molded and cast, with the food castings pinned to its surface.

The works Anthem and Cruise are made using many plaster molds made from found materials, often unconventional packing materials, and other things found in the street. Clay slabs are pressed into the plaster molds and then built into the cubic form. The ceramic is glazed fired, possibly multiple times, and then subject to another set of material processes after the firing processes. The works sag, sit awkwardly, buckle and crack. They meditate on the form of the AC unit or the VCR television, rudimentary technological building blocks, proposing a mysterious set of five visible outside sides, materially treated in a way that is resembling stones.

The works Anthem and Cruise are made using many plaster molds made from found materials, often unconventional packing materials, and other things found in the street. Clay slabs are pressed into the plaster molds and then built into the cubic form. The ceramic is glazed fired, possibly multiple times, and then subject to another set of material processes after the firing processes. The works sag, sit awkwardly, buckle and crack. They meditate on the form of the AC unit or the VCR television, rudimentary technological building blocks, proposing a mysterious set of five visible outside sides, materially treated in a way that is resembling stones.

The horse painting was made several years prior, but focuses on similar themes of replacement. Rather than painting something (simply making a representation), I paint into something (an intervention). This intervention – the relationship to the replaced pet, the parent's new relationship, memories that are entangled in a kind of deadness – inserts an ambivalence that threatens to intrude into the process of grieving or moving on. This project is both conceptual and diaristic, exploring emotional contradictions– intimacy, absence, death, and replacement.