The Whitney Biennial is back, showcasing the diverse and dynamic landscape of American art. This year’s edition, curated by Marcela Guerrero and Drew Sawyer, with Beatriz Cifuentes and Carina Martinez, features the work of 56 artists, duos, and collectives. The themeless exhibition focuses on ideas of “relationality,” touching on concepts such as family, technology, and mythology.
As an editor, I appreciate the approach of this biennial, which feels moody, sensorial, and contemplative without the need for a complex academic discourse. The absence of a strict theme allows the artwork to speak for itself, inviting viewers to engage with it on a personal level.
One of the highlights of the exhibition is the immersive projects that transport viewers into the artist’s world through sound, image, and perspective. Works like Basel Abbas and Ruanne Abou-Rahme’s “Until we became fire and fire us” and Oswaldo Maciá’s “Requiem for the Insects” offer a unique and captivating experience. These projects, along with CFGNY’s “Continuous Fractures Generating New Yields,” command attention and leave a lasting impression.
However, not all aspects of the biennial are as successful. Some critics argue that the exhibition lacks a coherent curatorial vision, resembling more of a gallery stroll than a comprehensive survey of contemporary art. The commercial influence on the art world is evident, with some works feeling derivative and catering to market trends rather than pushing boundaries.
One piece that sparked ambivalence among viewers is Pat Oleszko’s “Blowhard” (1995), which seems out of place in the context of the biennial. The whimsical installation comes across as frivolous in a setting that aims to provoke deeper contemplation and engagement.
On the other hand, there are moments of delight and intrigue scattered throughout the exhibition. Artists like Sula Bermudez-Silverman, Teresa Baker, and CFGNY offer fresh perspectives and innovative approaches to art-making. Their work challenges conventions and invites viewers to reconsider their relationship to the world around them.
Overall, the Whitney Biennial serves as a snapshot of the current state of American art, showcasing the diversity and complexity of artistic practice today. While some aspects may fall short of expectations, the exhibition provides a platform for artists to explore new ideas and engage with pressing issues. As viewers, we are encouraged to reflect on the connections between art, society, and ourselves, sparking important conversations and inspiring new ways of thinking. The 2026 Whitney Biennial has come and gone, leaving behind a trail of mixed reviews and conflicting emotions. As an institution deeply embedded in the art world, the Whitney’s curators attempted to shed light on systems of unseen labor, power structures, and American imperialism. However, their efforts often fell flat, with some exceptions like the poignant work by Andrea Fraser and her mother Carmen de Monteflores. Carmen, who abandoned her painting career six decades ago, showcased a rare glimpse into the sacrifices and struggles of artists behind the scenes.
One notable misstep in the exhibition was the decision to end with Zac Blas’s installation on the first floor. Intended to provoke thoughts on AI domination and our complicity in it, the installation came across as more of a shocking spectacle than a thought-provoking piece of art. Similarly, Michelle Lopez’s “Pandemonium” failed to leave a lasting impact, offering a superficial reflection of the chaotic world we live in without offering any meaningful commentary.
The use of mirrors and cameras in various artworks throughout the exhibition also left much to be desired. While Cooper Jacoby’s work cleverly explored themes of time, mortality, and surveillance, many other pieces relied on these devices as a superficial gimmick rather than a meaningful artistic choice.
On the other hand, the biennial did succeed in creating moments of wonder and awe through works like Young Joon Kwak’s “Divine Dance of Soft Revolt” and Malcolm Peacock’s “Five of them were hers and she carved shelters with windows into the backs of their skulls.” These pieces transported viewers to otherworldly realms, inviting them to engage with the art on a deeply emotional level.
However, not all the works hit the mark, with some artists seemingly trying too hard to impress with convoluted concepts that failed to resonate. Isabelle Frances McGuire’s sculptures, inspired by American myths, felt disconnected from the broader cultural context they were meant to address. Similarly, kekahi wahi and Bradley Capello’s “20-minute workout” left viewers scratching their heads, struggling to make sense of its disjointed narrative.
In the end, the 2026 Whitney Biennial was a mixed bag of highs and lows, offering moments of brilliance alongside missed opportunities. While some works succeeded in sparking deep emotional responses and reflections on the state of the world, others fell short, leaving viewers feeling disconnected and confused. As the art world continues to grapple with pressing social and political issues, exhibitions like the Whitney Biennial serve as important platforms for dialogue and reflection, even if they don’t always get it right.
Exploring Ambivalence: Evoking Emotions Through Art
Within the realm of contemporary art, there exists a delicate balance between evoking emotions and challenging perceptions. The recent exhibition featuring Anna Tsouhlarakis’s “SHE MUST BE A MATRIARCH” (2023) raises questions about the reinterpretation of classical monuments and the potential implications of such artistic endeavors. While the concept is intriguing, it becomes apparent that a deeper understanding of the original work, James Earle Fraser’s “End of the Trail” (1919), is necessary to fully appreciate the nuances of Tsouhlarakis’s piece.
The atmosphere of the exhibition exudes a sense of numbness and weariness, mirroring the surreal disconnect between America’s global influence and the detachment of its citizens from the consequences of their actions. This introspective exploration of societal dynamics is indeed relevant and thought-provoking, aligning with the overarching theme of a biennial showcase. However, the question arises whether this reflection is sufficient or if there is more to be uncovered.
Several artworks within the exhibition advocate for subtle acts of compassion and empathy as a means of navigating through turbulent times. For instance, Kainoa Gruspe’s “welcome to here—doorstops” (2025) transforms fragments from contentious sites in Hawai’i into symbolic doorstops, symbolizing a hopeful path towards reconciliation. Similarly, Jasmin Sian’s delicate creations, crafted from everyday materials with intricate detail, infuse a sense of tenderness into the mundane remnants of our existence.
On one hand, the belief in the transformative power of art and the intimate connection between artist and audience is undeniably idealistic. The notion that emotions conveyed during the creative process can resonate with viewers and contribute to positive change is both inspiring and uncertain. While the sentiment is compelling, there lingers a sense of skepticism regarding its efficacy.
Ultimately, the exhibition prompts viewers to contemplate the complexities of emotion, art, and societal discourse. By delving into the nuances of reinterpretation, introspection, and empathy, the artworks challenge us to confront our ambivalence towards the transformative potential of artistic expression.
