We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Rick Conkey (founder of Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center with the motto, “Activating the Power of the Arts for the Benefit of the Community”) a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Rick, we’re thrilled to have you on our platform and we think there is so much folks can learn from you and your story. Something that matters deeply to us is living a life and leading a career filled with purpose and so let’s start by chatting about how you found your purpose.

Looking back, I think my purpose found me long before I recognized it.

My grandmother used to tell people that when I was a little boy, if someone gave me something beautiful that I really loved, I would immediately want to give it away so someone else could enjoy it too. It didn’t matter whether it was a toy, an experience, or something I treasured. If it brought me joy, my instinct was to share it.

I still do that today.

Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to discover incredible artists, musicians, filmmakers, athletes, and community leaders. What excites me most isn’t keeping those experiences to myself. It’s finding ways to share them with others.

For a long time, I thought purpose might be found in achievement, success, or recognition. Like many people, I made my share of mistakes and took plenty of wrong turns. Eventually, I realized that the moments that brought me the deepest fulfillment were always the moments when I was helping connect people to something meaningful, inspiring, or beautiful.

Focus on Filmmaking

That’s what eventually led me to the arts.

At its core, life is about learning. Teaching and learning are among the most important things we do as human beings. What makes the arts so powerful is that they have a unique ability to teach. A great film, a song, a painting, a story, or a performance can reach people in ways that facts and arguments often cannot.

The arts have a remarkable way of bypassing our defenses, fears, assumptions, and triggers. They can deliver truths that deep down we already know, but may not be ready to hear directly. A great artist can open a door. A great filmmaker can help us see through someone else’s eyes. A great musician can help us feel something we’ve forgotten. The arts create understanding where confrontation often fails.

When we look back at great civilizations, one of the first things we examine is their art, music, stories, architecture, and culture. The arts become part of the lasting record of who people were, what they valued, and what they hoped to pass on to future generations.

In that sense, teaching through the arts is one of the deepest forms of giving. Artists give us their perspective, their struggles, their wisdom, and their imagination. They help us learn from experiences we may never have had ourselves. The gift is not merely entertainment. The gift is understanding, connection, compassion, and growth

Over time, I’ve come to believe that giving is one of the most powerful things we can do as human beings. What took me years to understand is that giving isn’t really about sacrifice. It’s about connection.

Make Earth Cool Film Festival 2026

When we share knowledge, inspiration, encouragement, beauty, or opportunity, we receive something in return that is difficult to describe. We see someone inspired. We watch a door open for another person. We feel part of something larger than ourselves. The connection that comes from helping others grow, learn, or experience something meaningful is one of life’s greatest rewards.

In a way, that’s been one of the biggest lessons of my life. The more I’ve focused on sharing rather than accumulating, the more fulfilled I’ve become. There is a reason so many of the world’s great teachers and traditions point toward service, generosity, and contribution. It’s not simply because they help others. It’s because they help us become more fully human.

Beauty plays an important role in that process. Whether it’s found in art, music, storytelling, nature, sports, or acts of kindness, beauty reminds us of what is possible. It lifts us beyond our fears, distractions, and limitations. It invites us to reach for something higher.

I’ve learned that the goal isn’t perfection. The goal is to keep reaching. To aim for the most meaningful and idealistic vision you can imagine and keep moving toward it, even when you stumble. Whether in tennis, art, business, or life, everyone falls down. What matters is getting back up, learning from the experience, and continuing the journey.

My purpose today is simple: to create opportunities for people to experience those moments of connection, learning, inspiration, and beauty. Through the Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center, Laguna Beach TV, and the many artists and storytellers we work with, I get to do what I’ve always loved doing: sharing something beautiful with others.

In many ways, I’m still that little boy. I’ve just found a larger audience to share it with.

Women’s History Month 2026

Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?

I am the founder of the Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center, a nonprofit organization dedicated to activating the power of the arts for the benefit of the community. Through concerts, films, exhibitions, educational programs, and community gatherings, we strive to create meaningful opportunities for people to connect, learn, and be inspired.

What excites me most is helping artists and storytellers share their gifts with others. The arts have a unique ability to bring people together, foster understanding, and remind us of our shared humanity. They can communicate truths and experiences in ways that often reach beyond our defenses, fears, and assumptions.

One of our newest initiatives is Laguna Beach TV, an emerging cultural storytelling and archival project designed to preserve and share the creative legacy of Laguna Beach. While still in its early stages, the vision is to create a lasting collection of filmed conversations, performances, documentaries, and personal stories that capture the people, ideas, and creative spirit that have shaped our community.

We are currently working with Visit Laguna Beach on the Centennial project, “100 Stories for 100 Years,” which seeks to document and celebrate the individuals, events, and cultural forces that have helped define Laguna Beach over the past century. Projects like this reinforce our belief that preserving stories is just as important as creating new ones.

When we look back at great communities and civilizations, we often understand them through their stories, art, music, and culture. My hope is that the work we’re doing today will help preserve those stories for future generations while inspiring people in the present.

At the end of the day, everything we do is rooted in the belief that teaching, learning, and sharing are among the most important things human beings can do. The arts are one of the most powerful ways to accomplish all three.

Juneteenth 2026

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

My advice to anyone early in their journey is simple: stay curious, keep showing up, and look for ways to help others along the way. Skills can be learned. Markets change. Technology changes. But people who remain curious, persistent, generous, and willing to reach for something bigger than themselves will always find opportunities to grow and make a positive impact.

And perhaps most importantly, don’t be afraid to pursue the most idealistic vision you can imagine.

I’ve learned that some of life’s most profound lessons are found at the edge. Not over the edge, but right at the edge of what you think is possible.

In yoga, they sometimes refer to this place as “the teacher.” It’s the point where you’re stretching, growing, and fully engaged. You’re not comfortable, but you’re not overwhelmed either. You’re present. You’re paying attention. You’re learning.

Too often, people play it safe and never discover what they’re capable of. But when you reach for something meaningful, something difficult, something idealistic, you begin to grow. That’s where some of life’s greatest lessons are waiting.

Reach for the most idealistic target you can imagine.

Go for it.

When you step back and think about Earth’s history, humanity is just a tiny fraction of that story, and each of our lives is only a brief moment within it. Yet somehow, against incredible odds, we’re all here together at this moment in history.

That’s a miracle in itself.

So why not reach for the stars?

Dream big.

Keep learning.

Keep growing.

Keep helping others.

Let’s go for it and have a little fun.

Alright, so before we do we want to ask you to take a moment to reflect and share what you think you would do if you somehow knew you only had a decade of life left?

If I only had a decade of life left, I would spend it doing exactly what I’m doing now, perhaps with even greater urgency and appreciation.

It took me a long time to learn this, and I made plenty of mistakes along the way, but one of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that the key to a meaningful life is aligning your beliefs with your actions.

For years, like many people, I chased different definitions of success. Some worked, some didn’t. What I eventually discovered is that fulfillment comes from identifying the things you care about most deeply and then organizing your life around them. Find your true north. Figure out what matters most to you, and then align your time, energy, and actions with those values.

When your beliefs and your actions are aligned, something remarkable happens. Even the hard work becomes rewarding. Even the setbacks feel worthwhile because you’re moving in a direction that is consistent with who you are and what you care about.

For me, that means helping people connect through the arts, preserving stories, building community, and creating opportunities for learning and inspiration. Whether through the Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center, Laguna Beach TV, or simply bringing people together around meaningful experiences, I feel fortunate to spend my time doing work that reflects my values.

The interesting thing is that once your life becomes aligned with your purpose, success starts to look different. It’s no longer just about money, titles, or recognition. Those things can be useful, but they aren’t the destination. The real reward is waking up each day excited about what you’re doing and knowing that your efforts are contributing to something you believe in.

Earth is billions of years old, and each of us is only here for a brief moment. Yet somehow, against incredible odds, we all get to share this golden moment together.

To me, that’s a miracle.

So if I only had ten years left, I wouldn’t spend them chasing something else. I’d spend them doing exactly what I’m doing now: learning, creating, sharing, helping others, and trying to leave things a little better than I found them.

We’re all sharing this golden moment together.

Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center
Activating the Power of the Arts for the Benefit of the Community

Robert Colescott, George Washington Carver Crossing the Delaware: Page from an American History Textbook , 1975, acrylic on canvas, 78 1/2 x 98 1/4 in.

On July 4th, the Trump administration ordered signs to be placed outside of the Smithsonian National Museum of American History to disparage the institution and the exhibitions within it. The signs proclaim that the museum presents “inaccurate information” according to an Executive Order titled “Restoring Truth and Sanity of American History.” The Order is anything but truthful or sane. Its only authority is personal to this president.

As dismayed as I am about this turn of events, especially regarding a museum of unique caliber and significance that I have personally enjoyed for many years, I am gratified by the local presence of the soon-to-open Lucas Museum of Narrative Art, on September 22, 2026. The museum will welcome idealistic, inclusive and diverse approaches to the art it shows and the curation behind it. The museum, in fact, may be heralding a new age of creativity, perhaps a kind of renaissance — as a reaction against our administration’s vilification of artistic expression and rejection of our forward-thinking narratives.

N. C. Wyeth, “‘Allons!’ said De Bernis. ‘It is time to make an end. So!’ He parried. ‘So,’” illustration for “The Duel on the Beach,” illustration for Ladies’ Home Journal, 1926, oil on canvas, 48 x 60 in.

The imminent opening of the Lucas Museum is the result of nearly a decade of planning, not to mention the change of its eventual location — from Chicago to San Francisco, and finally to L.A.’s Exposition Park. Along the way, the museum’s co-founders, filmmaker George Lucas (“Star Wars,” 1977) and his wife/partner Melody Hobson have solidified the venue’s mission as one presenting approachable art conceived for our common humanity.

Filmmaker George Lucas has been exploring the worldwide presence of myths and stories—often referred to as Jungian archetypes—since his college days. These similar narratives, appearing across dissimilar cultures, are told by people who have never met each other. Lucas applied this model to his movie “Star Wars” (1977) with its tales of good and evil, and with the concept of The Force. It became one of the most celebrated films of all time.

Judith F. Baca, final coloration for The Birth of Rock and Roll , from The Great Wall of Los Angeles 1950 , mural in Los Angeles, California, 1983, colored pencil and pastel on print, 19 1/8 x 43 1/8 in.

The success of “Star Wars” with its universal storytelling theme has influenced Lucas’s filmmaking ever since. Archetypal stories are also present in his Lucas Museum of Narrative Art, of which his wife and partner Mellody Hobson is co-founder. The 300,000-square-foot museum is set in a futuristic styled building in Los Angeles’ Exposition Park. The exhibitions will not only embrace narrative art, depicting episodes of everyday life through images. The shows will recount stories about our society’s evolution, going back millennia.

The museum’s mission is to examine the universal stories that connect all of us, while depicting the human experience through prints, illustrations, paintings, sculptures and more. Lucas—who has been collecting narrative art for more than 50 years—explains, “Stories are mythology, and when illustrated, they help humans understand the mysteries of life.” Hobson adds, “This is a museum of the people’s art. The images are illustrations of beliefs we live with every day. Our hope is that as people move through the galleries, they will see themselves, and their humanity, reflected back.” While these concepts are personal to the founders, their deeper purpose is to liberate the viewers’ perspectives while visiting the museum.

Ernie Barnes, The Critic’s Corner , 2007, acrylic on canvas, 28 1/2 x 40 3/8 x 2 1/2 in.

Lucas Museum exhibitions will trace the evolution of human culture. Displays will include photos of cave paintings, ancient sculptures of gods and goddesses, Renaissance paintings, illustrations of mythical characters, depression-era photos, comic book illustrations, “Star Wars” images, and 20th and 21st century visuals about life in the United States. Other exhibitions address art genres such as photography, architecture, cinema, stories of the American West, children’s stories, comics and graphic novels. Important subsections, with displays on love, family, Motherhood, community, sports and adventure help to define the human experience.

Among 18 thematic exhibitions, six are devoted to the work of individual American artists: regionalist painter Thomas Hart Benton; fantasy artist Frank Frazetta; painter/illustrator of dreamy visions Maxfield Parrish; Norman Rockwell who depicted the essence of American culture; Jessie Willcox Smith who illustrated fairy tales and childhood scenes; and early 20^th century book illustrations by N.C. Wyeth.

Frank Frazetta, cover for A Princess of Mars, 1970, oil on canvas board, 19 1/2 x 15 1/2 in., private collection.

The Lucas collection also contains notable work by modern and contemporary artists, including Judith F. Baca, Robert Colescott, Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. Here also are renowned twentieth century photos by Dorothea Lange, Robert Capa and Gordon Parks. Reflecting the museum’s dedication to storytelling in many mediums, extensive film archives, including the complete Lucas Archives (1971–2012) will be available to viewers.

The mission and perspective of the Lucas Museum aspire to connect humankind while eschewing a fixed orthodoxy. The institution is positioned to portend a new, more beatific era of creativity — one that will help to overwhelm and overcome the actions of our dystopian administration.

Ralph McQuarrie, Artoo and Threepio Leave the Pod in the Desert, production art for Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope , 1975, gouache on board, 13 1/4 x 20 in. Lucasfilm Ltd. All rights reserved.

Aaron Kramer in his shop, courtesy of Oceanside Museum

Three-dimensional assemblage art of found materials by artists including the late George Herms and Betye Saar has been delighting art lovers for more than a century. It has been central to Aaron Kramer’s art practice from childhood, when he began scavenging junk from garbage bins as source material. This early passion continues to the present, with much of his assemblage work having become kinetic, expressing the concept of automata, or moving sculptures designed to imitate life.

Much of the work in “Sense of Wonder” stems from Kramer’s penchant to mine his life experiences, and the results are designed to delight children of all ages, along with adults who are young at heart. He is also an ardent educator at the nonprofit Rediscover Center in L.A., dedicated to empowering children to embrace art as a living process.

Pacific Gyre , 2019, Welded wire, various bits of household trash including a shaving cream lid, toothbrush, roasted chicken container, pasta box, kipper tin, chain, and vintage egg beater

Among the best works is “Pacific Gyre” (2019), it’s title evoking a circular system of ocean currents and the crisis of endless trash in our oceans. Its elements, all neatly arranged within a welded wire frame, include emptied food cans, an egg carton, an empty water bottle, three toothbrushes and a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser, among other throwaway objects. When its handle is turned the various objects converge noisily towards each other, including a mallet beating on a plastic container and chains dragging over cans. This produces what Kramer refers to as ocean noise.

Frankenstein, 2023, Vintage wooden box, laser cut internal and external components, plastic doll parts, vintage Japanese toys from the 50’s, and dollhouse piano

“Frankenstein” (2022) has the appearance of a child’s play toy rather than the expected macabre nod to Mary Shelley’s gothic novel referenced by the title. Five dolls’ heads, a few in a toy cradle, a toy piano and two disembodied hands on a piano, are watched over by an unclothed plastic clown. When the main shaft is turned and the automata rotates, the piece comes to life. The crib rocks, the doll heads open and close their eyes, and the two disembodied hands play the piano. While Kramer’s version of “Frankenstein” is amusing rather than scary, its deeper meaning is about creating life from inanimate objects — the very intention of Shelley’s book, and the defining modus operandi of Kramer’s body of work.

Down on the Farm, 2014, Welded wire, bailing wire chicken and bug, lamp part, snooker ball, horseshoe, and Levolor mechanism

“Down on the Farm” (2012) is not only more conceptual than most of Kramer’s assemblages, its overall design is among the most elegant and harmonious. Affixed to a wooden mahogany base, reclaimed from a London door manufacturer, are various objects indigenous to farming, but that look more like sculptural elements than farm tools. These include horseshoes turned on their sides, a delicate bee made from old washers, a sculptural chicken artfully constructed from bailing wire, and lamp parts. All are composed under a yellow vintage snooker billiard ball, affixed at the top of the piece, that conjures up a sun shining over this ersatz farm.

Pin Spiral Set , 2001, Welded ring rolled steel rod, washers, auto parts, vintage trophies from high scores in bowling leagues, and children’s toy pins

Among the most personal works are “Pin Spiral” and “Pin Spiral Set.” Hearkening back to his childhood in Chicago, the artist fondly recalls going to bowling alleys with his family, including his grandfather, reveling in the sights and sounds of the alleys, of the balls careening down the alley, of the pins being hit, creating cracking noises, and of the crowds reacting excitedly to the strikes.

To pay homage to these memories, Kramer has created several spiral sculptures from ring rolled steel, constructed with bowling pins, children’s pin toys, and with washers breaking up the spaces between the pins. As with most works here, viewers are invited to play with the sculptures, which are made to be gently rocked in place. This action creates the sound of the pins shifting inside, evoking the bowling alleys drawn from the artist’s memory.

The sense of wonder that pervades Kramer’s being translates to his salvaged materials and is a convincing foundation by which his imagination and formal expression result in delight. The exhibition runs through August 23, 2026 at Oceanside Museum, Oceanside, California.

Loki The Trickster

The Trickster represents the primitive, chaotic and unpredictable aspects of the unconscious. It breaks rules, exposes hypocrisy and creates chaos—all of which can lead to growth. The Trickster doesn’t respect authority simply because it is authority. She/he lives outside of moral boundaries.

The Trickster can be funny, clever, childish, selfish, destructive, creative—or all of those characteristics at once. Carl Gustav Jung saw the Trickster as an ancient pattern in the human psyche that exists in every culture.

He believed that the Trickster often appears when a person’s conscious self has become too rigid. A person who believes that she/he is always logical may suddenly act irrationally. A person who thinks that she/he is morally perfect may soon be confronted by one’s own hidden flaws.

And a society that becomes overly serious or imperious toward its citizens is likely to produce comedians or satirists who expose its contradictions.

Coyote The Trickster

The Trickster punctures the ego. It reminds us that we may not be as in control as we may think.

Many cultures have Trickster figures that blur the lines between the hero and the villain.

Loki is the famous cunning trickster god in Norse mythology. He is brilliant and mischievous, and often causes disasters that ultimately reshape the world. Neither fully good nor evil, he often helps the other gods before tricking them.

Coyote is a Trickster figure, often coming from Indigenous cultures across North America. He is clever, creative and foolish, while his humorous antics help to explain the world around us and teach us moral lessons.

Anansi comes to us from Caribbean and African folklore. Taking the form of a spider, he is profoundly egotistical but is not truly evil.

Anansi The Trickster

Hermes is a character from ancient Greek mythology, specifically from the Homeric Hymn to Hermes. He is a thief (often in a good way), a boundary crosser, mischievous and an inventor.

Artist Pablo Picasso, who was certainly a Trickster, and perhaps a Hermes archetype, said, “Good artists copy, great artists steal,” meaning that great creators look at existing ideas and images, deeply ponder their meanings, and transform them into completely new images. His 1907 painting, “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon,” presented five prostitutes wearing African, Iberian and tribal-inspired masks, which he was familiar with. And its fractured spaces were initially confusing to viewers.

Today, the Trickster archetype can also appear in society as: the comedian who says what others are afraid to say; the hacker who exposes weaknesses; the prankster; the disruptive entrepreneur; the whistleblower; the child who innocently points out to us uncomfortable truths.

Jung believed that the Trickster is a metaphor for an early stage of psychological development. The Trickster represents parts of ourselves that are: impulsive, instinctive, and highly creative.

As people mature psychologically, they don’t eliminate the Trickster. They become conscious of it. Instead of unconsciously sabotaging themselves, they can use the Trickster’s energy for innovation, humor, flexibility and problem-solving.

Hermes The Trickster

Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Ph.D. wrote in “Women Who Run With the Wolves” © 1992, describing the Wild Woman Archetype, “Women find that as they vanquish the predator, taking from it what is useful and leaving the rest, they are filled with intensity, vitality and drive. They have rendered from the predator what has been stolen from them, vigor and substance.

“To render the predator’s energy and turn it into something else can be understood in these ways: The predator’s rage can be rendered into a soul-fire for accomplishing a great task in the world. The predator’s craftiness can be used to inspect and understand things from a distance. The predator’s killing nature can be used to kill off that which must properly die in a woman’s life, or what she must die to in her outer life, these being different things at different times.”

The Trickster overlaps with what Jung referred to as the Shadow. But they are not identical. The Shadow contains everything that we reject or deny about ourselves. The Trickster however is a specific archetypal pattern that often emerges from the Shadow to upset certainty, expose blind spots and force change. You can regard the Shadow as the hidden basement of the psyche; while the Trickster comes upstairs and rearranges the furniture.

Jung considered encounters with the Trickster to be potentially unsettling, but psychologically valuable. If recognized, the Trickster can loosen rigid thinking, reveal uncomfortable truths and make personal growth possible.

The Trickster

Born in New Orleans in 1942, Birch draws on his diverse family background for inspiration. Relatives are activists, community leaders, teachers, and preachers. Birch studied art in disparate parts of our country and the world, living in New Orleans, New York, Baltimore and Amsterdam, to achieve an abundance of perspectives. In many pieces, the artist, who has also worked as a community organizer, is informed by his African ancestry, the civil rights movement, jazz, Egyptian numerology, and American folk art.

Birch’s oeuvre emphasizes accessibility, humanity and spirituality. Exhibition curator Russell Lord, chief of curatorial affairs at the Norman Rockwell Museum, sees a body of work rooted deeply in empathy and a holistic approach.

Willie Birch, Uptown Memories (A Day in the Life of the Magnolia Project), 1995, painted papier-mâché and mixed media, 82 × 62 × 60”. New Orleans Museum of Art

“Uptown Memories (A Day in the Life of the Magnolia Project)” (1995), composed from painted papier-mâché and mixed media, depicts a young Black man contemplating what his life might be like as an artist. The deftly crafted sculpture presents the subject absorbed in reading a book while perched on a city stoop. The stoop displays images of the city around him, and a small portable radio is placed next to him.

While no other figures occupy this piece, there is a powerful sense of humanity gathered around the young man, as evidenced by other nearby sculptures. These include a family traveling, another family walking through town, a young man catching birds, and several of schoolchildren on whose backs are written phrases such as “Those who ignore the past will be forced to relive it,” “Why do we say Columbus discovered America?”

Willie Birch, Street Musician with Guitar, 1999, acrylic and charcoal on paper, 60 × 48”. Courtesy of Pettit Art Partners

The implied sounds of music are key elements that rise above the silence of Birch’s imagery. The acrylic and charcoal “Street Musician with Guitar” (1999) focuses on a man who Birch often sees in his neighborhood. The intense subject, depicted in a social realist style, stares out at us, establishing an immediate connection. He appears to be harboring stories about a life spent as a Black man in the south, which he is bursting to share with his listeners.

“Two Faces of a Nation” (1968) is an assemblage of found objects representing a besmirched American flag. The caveat of the piece is expressed through the presence of a dustpan, broom, hammer, gloves and heavily worn shoes. These objects indicate that our country is no picture-perfect land of patriotic songs and storybooks, but a muddied continent, built on the back-breaking labor of marginalized citizens. The flag appears to be made of cloth that has been pulled over the tools of labor, rendering the stars and stripes folded and torn by the objects beneath them. The work expresses the then-young artist’s dark perspective on life during the 1960s.

Willie Birch, Two Faces of a Nation, 1968, wood, paint, and found materials, 35 ½ × 60 ¾ × 7 ½” Courtesy of Willie Birch Studio

The artist’s reflections of that tumultuous decade have continued in the years since. “Memories of the ‘60s” (1992), a deftly crafted papier-mâché, canvas and mixed media sculpture, depicts an African American woman working on a blood-red quilt. It illustrates through pictures and text episodes of racial violence that Birch witnessed. Sewn into the quilt are pictures of protestors linking arms, members of the Ku Klux Klan, Martin Luther King, a clenched fist, a flag and statements such as, “The price of freedom is death.” “Freedom is not free,” and, “I don’t see an American dream. I see an American nightmare.”

Willie Birch, Memories of the ‘60s, 1992, painted papier-mâché, canvas, and mixed media, figure: 52 × 25 × 30”, quilt: 94 1/2 × 81 ½”. Courtesy of Willie Birch Studio

Beyond these highlighted works are spiritually-inspired installations portraying passages through life, along with deftly executed wood carvings and semi-abstract paintings. Also featured are colorful works from the 1980s of people who Birch encountered in New York City, including those in a barbershop, a multi-racial neighborhood dinner, and hanging out at home. “Keeping Up With the Iran-Contra Hearings” (1987) centers on a Black woman, her head scarf signifying that she is a maid, in a well-appointed home that is clearly not hers, becoming mesmerized by a news image on TV.

The final section of this exhibition is composed of several large-scale charcoal and acrylic works on paper from the artist’s “Seventh Ward” series. Birch began these pictures after 1994, upon returning to his hometown of New Orleans. He deftly captures street scenes, people and architecture from one of the city’s most historically vibrant neighborhoods. It was arguably the birthplace of jazz, home of the Mardi Gras Indians, and the marching ground of the annual Black Men of Labor Second Line Parade. While the scenes are local, the stories are universal. Images of horses, boys loaded into the back of a pickup truck, young men playing dominoes, people cleaning a street following a local shooting, and a 1977 Chevy all immerse us in the ward. Especially affecting is the spiritual drawing, “Evoking the Spirits of the Ancestors” (2002), of three hooded and robed men walking solemnly through town.

Willie Birch, Evoking the Spirits of the Ancestors, 2002, acrylic and charcoal on paper, 72 ¼ × 79 1/8’. Courtesy of Willie Birch Studio

The expansive aesthetic of “Stories to Tell” befits an artist who has imbued his body, mind and spirit into the many vicissitudes of Black life in America. The stories are compelling, and as numerous as they are, we come away understanding that there are still many stories yet untold.

Willie Birch, “Stories to Tell” runs through October 21, 2026 at the California African American Museum, Los Angeles.

Nicola Salvi, Trevi Fountain, 1762, marble, Rome, Italy (image from Pageant of the Masters)

This summer’s Pageant of the Masters, with its theme, the “Greatest of All Time,” celebrates six centuries of art masterpieces, presenting work from many different eras and styles. The theatrical spectacle features 40-plus renowned paintings and sculptures, most with real people inhabiting their artistic counterparts, on the stage.

The Pageant evolved organically in the art colony of Laguna Beach, which attracted artists from all over the country and beyond. Artists moved there in the late 19th and early 20th centuries for the magnificent weather, coastal scenery, landscapes as subjects of their artwork, and especially for the camaraderie with like-minded creatives. As the town evolved, performances became important occurrences at get-togethers and gallery openings, leading to the Pageant of the Masters.

Performed for two months every summer, the Pageant combines fine art with intricate theatrical engineering, and with volunteers who pose as characters in classic, modern and contemporary paintings and sculptures. The models inhabiting the living pictures or “tableaux vivants” wear elaborate make-up, wigs, headpieces and cleverly constructed clothing to facilitate their art personas.

Supporting these volunteers are detailed background scenes from the original paintings, created by professional artists. With models posing in front of these scenes, re-creations of well-known works of art, framed, with stage lighting, are produced. When viewed from the Pageant’s expansive Irvine Bowl amphitheater, the audience beholds astonishing larger-than-life pictures that overflow with vibrancy. This aspect is also true of the sculptural pieces. Completing the complex production is a large construction crew, a live orchestra, and narration detailing the stories behind the art pieces.

Pierre-August Renoir, Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881, oil on canvas, The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C.

These two-hour performances are derived from amateur theatricals performed during the Victorian era. These events featured party-goers posing as their favorite art characters within large picture frames. In the original 1932 Pageant, titled “Spirit of the Masters Pageant,” volunteers posed as “Mona Lisa,” “Whistler’s Mother,” and other well-known subjects. The volunteers walked down Laguna Beach streets, holding large frames around themselves, leading onlookers to the newly formed Festival of Arts. The Pageant evolved to become a complex production, presenting works by Vermeer, Rembrandt, Bruegel, da Vinci, Botticelli, Manet, and modern and contemporary paintings.

The “Greatest of All Time” Pageant theme hearkens back to its roots, featuring world-famous art pieces. The show begins with sculptures by Michelangelo and paintings by Johannes Vermeer (“The Music Lesson,” 1665, and “Art of Painting,” 1668). Marble masterpieces, including a stage-wide re-creation of the majestic “Trevi Fountain,” 1762, in Rome. The sculpture by Nicola Salvia is accompanied by music by Ottorino Respighi: “Pines of Rome,” 1924.

These are followed by masterful Impressionist artworks: “Le Déjeuner sur L’herbe” by Claude Monet, 1866; “The Dance Foyer at the Opera,” 1872, by Edgar Degas, with live models holding complex dance poses; and “Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881,” by Pierre-August Renoir. When the latter painting is displayed, a French accented voice, representing the artist, says “To me, a painting should be something pleasant and pretty, yes pretty.” The work, on view at the Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C., is a colorful, sunlight-infused work of a party on the Seine River, embodying the quintessential Impressionist style, and lifestyle during the Belle Époque.

Vincent van Gogh, Morning, Peasant Couple Going to Work, 1890, oil on canvas, The State Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg, Russia (image from Pageant of the Masters)

Vincent van Gogh’s “Morning, Peasant Couple Going to Work,” 1890, is an expression of the artist’s reverence for rural laborers. One of his most luminous paintings, “The Starry Night,” 1889, depicting the view of the sky and stars from his asylum room during a sunrise, with the addition of an imaginary village, is featured. A magnificent replication of the work is displayed across the Pageant’s entire screen.

Pablo Picasso, one of the most prolific painters who ever lived, according to long-time narrator Richard Doyle, appears on the Pageant stage by an actor playing him, with voice-over by a Spanish-accented man. He talks about his celebrated paintings and about his several wives and lovers. When discussing his tumultuous relationship with his wife, Russian ballet dancer, Olga Khokhlova, an elaborately dressed woman, personifying her, dances vibrantly onto the stage.

Pablo Picasso, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907, oil on canvas, The Museum of Modern Art

Special attention is given to Picasso’s 1907 “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon,” in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art. Presenting five sex workers, with African, Iberian and tribal-inspired masks, in a red-light district of Barcelona, it was one of the artist’s first paintings to employ fractured spaces. As one of Picasso’s most famous works, its cubist style influenced artists for many decades.

Picasso’s iconic 1937 painting “Guernica” is then thrillingly displayed across the show’s entire screen. Representing the fascist bombing and obliteration of an ancient Basque town during the 1937 Spanish Civil War, the anti-war painting conveys fractured versions of injured bodies, abstract horrified faces, bulls, horses, and birds. The bombing of Guernica was carried out by Nazi German and Fascist Italian forces, supporting General Francisco Franco’s Nationalist forces.

Pablo Picasso, Guernica, 1937, oil on canvas, Museuo Reina Sofia, Madrid

The Pageant’s second act begins with an actor playing the world-renowned 20th century artist Norman Rockwell in his art studio. As he talks about his inspiration from common people for his art, four of his Saturday Evening Post” covers, 1917-21, are depicted. With the titles, “Boy in the Mirror,” “Champ,” “Necessary Height,” and “Rivals,” they artfully present the insecurities of pre-adolescent and adolescent boys.

His “Picasso vs. Sargent,” 1966, in his finely wrought realistic style, illustrates the contrast of 1960s female styles and tastes. One woman in a black coat and heels is perusing a traditional painting by John Singer Sargent. Alongside her, a younger woman in jeans and boots is admiring a more contemporary Picasso painting.

Norman Rockwell, Glen Canyon Dam, 1969, oil on canvas, Commission and © U.S. Department of the Interior

Rockwell’s “Glen Canyon Dam,” 1970, illustrates the Arizona dam that severely damaged the Colorado River’s ecosystem, altering the Indigenous Navaho landscape, its farming and herding capabilities. The artist included in this Western-style painting a Native American family observing the project’s detrimental impact on their people. President Ronald Reagan is quoted as saying, “Norman Rockwell painted the people and events of six decades of American life with compassion and humor.”

Other art pieces in the second act include a stage-wide rendition of the “Lincoln Memorial,” 1922, designed by Daniel Chester French; Winslow Homer’s “Snap the Whip,” 1872, of nine young boys playing in a field; and David Hockney’s “Portrait of an Artist,” 1972, of Hockney staring at a man in a pool. Frida Kahlo’s “The Love Embrace of the Universe, The Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl,” 1949, is deeply symbolic and surreal, as it conveys many layers of entwining embraces. The Earth (Mexico) is holding Frida Kahlo, who is compassionately holding a nude Diego Rivera who is sleeping blissfully in her arms.

Frida Kahlo, The Love Embrace of the Universe, The Earth (Mexico), Myself, Diego, and Señor Xolotl, 1949, oil on Masonite, Mexico City

The Pageant’s concluding art piece, “The Last Supper,” 1495-1498, by Leonardo da Vinci, is a continuation of a decades-long tradition of presenting it at the Pageant. But an aged da Vinci first appears on the stage, questioning if the painting is worth showing. Then Andy Warhol, who silk-screened “60 Last Suppers” 1986, appears on the stage, encouraging him to exhibit it. This dialogue by two art superstars, who lived millennia apart, connects Renaissance devotional art to modern art and celebrity culture—a feature epitomizing this production’s expansive theme.

The curtains open to reveal a magnificent living rendition of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper,” with heavily made-up actors, set to the music “Meditation,” about a spiritual awakening, from the opera “Thaïs” by Jules Massenet. As the audience leaves the Irvine Bowl, they are reveling in the glory of having seen and heard about the details of some of history’s greatest artworks. Many people I spoke to were also captivated by the production’s unique pageantry of marrying art history with theatrical illusion.

Matthew Rolston, Da Vinci, The Last Supper (Saint Philip The Curious), 2016, photograph of model in the scene

The Pageant of the Masters Director is Diane Challis Davy. Dan Duling is the scriptwriter. Richard “Butch” Hill is the Technical Director. The show runs nightly until September 4, 2026.

This article originally appeared in Roborant Review on July 20, 2026.

Norman Rockwell, Audubon Observing the Passenger Pigeon, 1971, oil on canvas

STOCKBRIDGE, MASS. — A dramatic painting in “American Stories: From Rockwell to Revolution” is “The Great Falls” (2013) by Stephen Hannock. The 20-foot-wide cinematic-styled landscape evokes the Nineteenth Century Hudson River School of painting. Through many layers of paint, meticulously applied to the canvas, the work expresses the vistas, gushing water and luminous atmosphere of Niagara Falls in the late afternoon. As a significant artwork in this semiquincentennial exhibition, it is one of 250 items on view at the Norman Rockwell Museum through October 26. Included are textiles, ceramics, paintings, prints, drawings, books and digital media.

Stephen Hannock, The Great Falls, 2013, polished mixed media on canvas

The art and artifacts displayed explore the history, sweep and scope of Americana while illuminating “a bold vision to create a nation governed of, by and for the people, seeking human rights and freedom for all,” said Laurie Norton Moffatt, Norman Rockwell Museum director and CEO. The curators explain that the exhibition focuses on “the power of the image to express our aspirations, argue for social change, educate and entertain the populace and bring light to dark moments.” The artworks are from the museum’s extensive holdings of Rockwell paintings and other fine art pieces and objects, along with loans from major institutions and private collections nationwide.

Norman Rockwell, The Peace Corps (JFK’s Bold Legacy), 1966,oil on canvas

“American Stories” fills up the museum’s entire main floor, affording visitors the opportunity to view its legendary art as soon as they enter the front doors. Its nine galleries, also referred to as chapters, address our country’s history, challenges and victories. They inform us of how imagery has been used to assert identity, deal with power and call attention to marginalized people. The historic and contemporary works reflect the curators’ convictions that familiar symbols such as our flag, the bald eagle and the Statue of Liberty convey our country’s ideals of freedom, unity and democracy. Archival objects on the museum’s lower level include Rockwell’s sketches of presidents, documents lauding his work and his 1977 Presidential Medal of Freedom. “This is the first time in quite a while that we’ve had an exhibition take up the entire museum,” explained Russell Lord, the museum’s chief of curatorial affairs, who curated the show.

He added that while art over the centuries contains political social and racial perspectives, “American Stories” explores how artists have been relating the evolving story of our country for more than 200 years.

Norman Rockwell, Freedom of Speech, 1943, offset color lithograph on paper

The exhibition details major themes in our diversified nation. One gallery explores our country’s origins. Another highlights collective memories of places we have lived in and visited. Other sections look at immigration, industry and innovation, our relationship with the environment, social justice and equal rights. A popular gallery displays wartime posters. The show’s overall outlook is based on the spirit of Rockwell’s renowned 1943 “The Four Freedoms” series: Freedom of Speech, of Worship, from Want and from Fear, Lord explained.

Amos Doolittle, A view of the town of Concord, 1775, engraving

The “Representing Origins” gallery, displaying artwork created during the American Revolution, includes detailed engravings of Colonial scenes. An example is “The Boston Massacre, 1770, (or, The Bloody Massacre perpetrated in King Street, Boston, on March 5, 1770 by a party of the 29th Regiment)” by Paul Revere. Another is “A view of the town of Concord” (1775) by Amos Doolittle.

The gallery also presents a variety of Statue of Liberty images. “By altering her posture, expression or surroundings, artists recast her as weary, defiant or contemplative, reflecting public sentiment in moments of crisis and change,” the labels explain. “Her raised torch symbolizes both enlightenment and a standard by which justice is measured.”

Tim O’Brien, Go Back Where You Came From, c. 2019

William Steig’s 1978 “Lady Liberty,” a compelling New Yorker drawing, observes Independence Day with a woman dressed as Liberty, holding an American flag, surrounded by a barn and grazing cows. Tim O’Brien’s contrasting “Go Back Where You Came From” (2019) illustrates the statue from the rear, her flowing robes in the New York Harbor, waving goodbye to immigrants. With Liberty separated from her Island and from Emma Lazarus’ 1883 poem “The New Colossus,” which is engraved on her pedestal, offering refuge to the “huddled masses,” she is a symbol of our country during difficult times.

Norman Rockwell, Liberty Bell, 1976, oil on canvas

“Liberty Bell” (1976), a self-portrait by Rockwell, pictures the artist placing a “Happy Birthday” banner onto the bell, honoring our country’s bicentennial. He created the painting to commemorate the birthday of the country he had drawn and painted throughout his life.

The “Sense of Place” gallery contains several works paying tribute to Niagara Falls. These include early illustrations of its Indigenous ownership, those celebrating its natural grandeur and the Falls as a source of hydroelectric power. Stephen Hannock’s “The Great Falls,” described above, captures its spirit while extolling our majestic American landscape.

The “Coming to America” didactics explain that our country “has been shaped by successive and overlapping waves of migration: European settlement in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries; the forced migration and enslavement of Africans through the transatlantic slave trade; and later arrivals from Ireland, Germany and Southern and Eastern Europe.”

Norman Rockwell, Golden Rule, 1961, oil on canvas

A dramatic painting in the “Social Justice and Equal Rights” gallery is Rockwell’s “Golden Rule” (1961). Featuring a tightly knit group of people representing different religions, races and ethnicities standing harmoniously together, it contains the words, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

A different perspective is conveyed in Jerry Pinkney’s “Again, She Lit Another” (1999), an illustration for The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Anderson. The original story is set in Europe, yet this painting — about a homeless girl who dies during a freezing night — occurs in the slums of New York. The heart-rending artwork reveals how desperate lives can be when social justice is ignored.

The “Service and Sacrifice” section includes several wartime posters. James Montgomery Flagg’s “I Want You for U.S. Army” (1917), featuring Uncle Sam pointing his finger at us, was reproduced more than four million times during World War I.

J. Howard Miller, We Can Do It, 1942, photo lithograph on paper

J. Howard Miller’s 1942 poster “We Can Do It!,” of a determined woman flexing her muscles, was originally created for Westinghouse Electric Company to inspire female workers during World War II. The image became well-known during the 1980s when it was appropriated by feminist movements, as it conveys the empowerment of women in the workforce and beyond.

Several other works by Rockwell in his finely wrought realistic style express his compassion and reverence for democracy, service and integrity. His Saturday Evening Post cover “Thanksgiving” (1943) features a young homeless woman wearing an Army coat in war-torn Italy, warming up food in the chilly outdoors, as she folds her hands in thanks over her meager meal. The drawing expresses the angst created by poverty.

Norman Rockwell, Glen Canyon Dam, 1969, oil on canvas

In the “Down to Earth” gallery, Rockwell’s 1969 “Glen Canyon Dam” illustrates the Arizona dam that damaged the Colorado River’s ecosystem, altering the Navajo landscape as well as its farming and herding capabilities. In this Western-style painting, the artist included an Indigenous family observing the project’s deleterious impact on their people.

In the “American Myths, The Image as Story” section, Rockwell’s illustrations of “Tom Sawyer” (1936), for the book of the same name, and “Ichabod Crane” (1937), for Washington Irving’s 1820 classic, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, are included. Graphics by Munroe Leaf, Rockwell Kent and other artists are also included in this section.

Shonto Begay, Navajo Blue Highway, 2018, acrylic on canvas

Other artworks in this exhibition deserve special mention. Shonto Begay’s “Navajo Blue Highway” (2018) focuses on a pickup truck carrying five Native American men and a dog, likely commuting from fields that could be in Gallup, Phoenix or Albuquerque, N.M., back to their homes after a long day of working on the land. The painting’s thick impasto brushwork, evoking the look of Vincent van Gogh’s nighttime paintings, conveys the intensity and determination of the Navajo people to survive and thrive.

Navajo artist Susan Hudson’s semi-abstract quilt titled, “The Tree of Many Colors” (2020) expresses the diversity of her Native ancestors and contemporaries. The award-winning artist learned quilting from her mother, who was forcibly taught the craft in a government-funded Indian boarding school in the early Twentieth Century. Hudson symbolically sews into the quilt the hardships and strengths of her ancestors.

As we celebrate our nation’s 250th birthday, “American Stories” presents an expansive, thought-provoking perspective on the American experience and our democracy, with works selected to stimulate, educate and inspire us.

This article originally appeared in Antiques and the Arts on Jun 23, 2026.

Those circumstances resulted in tensions between the workers and the film studios, and ultimately in strikes, including the 1945 Hollywood Bloody Friday, by artists who resented the poor working conditions and inequities in wages and recognition. Conditions improved somewhat over the years, as they continued devoting their talents to the industry.

Bill Anderson, Gordon Butcher, John Gary Coakley, John Harold Coakley, Emil J. Kosa, Jr., and Arthur Grover Rider, Backdrop for The Sound of Music, 1965, Dry color and gelatin
binder on cotton muslin.

A magnificent example of the artists’ contributions is the painting of an Austrian town, “Backdrop for The Sound of Music” (1965). This 18-by-25-foot scene is displayed along a gallery wall in “Staging California.” The backdrop contains several majestic buildings and churches, nestled among the mountains, along with translucent materials inserted into the building windows, allowing light to shine through. Yet only Los Angeles artist Emil J. Kosa Jr. was credited for this work, even though five other artists had worked around the clock to create the scene.

Paul Grimm, Untitled, after 1932. Oil on canvas, 36 x 46 in. UC Irvine
Langson Orange County Museum of Art

The contributions of these talented artists, who were trained in the techniques of French and California Impressionism, became essential aspects of filmmaking during Hollywood’s Golden era. Indeed, this exhibition contains several movie clips featuring scenes painted by artists. These include “The Wizard of Oz,” 1939, with Dorothy dancing along the Yellow Brick Road, surrounded by the magical painted Land of Oz; and Hitchcock’s “North by Northwest,” 1959, with Cary Grant viewing the hyper-realistic Mount Rushmore. As the National Park Service would not allow the filming of actors climbing Mount Rushmore, the scene was so deftly constructed at MGM Studios in Culver City that many viewers believed they were seeing the actual monument.

Local artists also transported moviegoers, via painted backdrops, to locations as diverse as the Swiss Alps, Siberia, the South Sea Islands, the Sahara Desert and the New England Coast. Many artists were well acquainted with foreign landscapes thanks to their immigrant backgrounds, international travels, or art education in Europe.

Dong Kingman, Along the China Coast, 1965, Watercolor on paper, 39 x 28 in. The Buck
Collection at UC Irvine Langson Orange County Museum of Art

Most studio painters had been fine artists before they worked on films. But unable to make decent livings with their art, they obtained studio employment for financial stability. They continued to work on their own paintings in their spare time, exhibit them and even win awards.

The acquisition of many magnificent paintings in this exhibition occurred last September when the UC Irvine Jack and Shanaz Langson Institute and Museum of California Art merged with the Orange County Museum of Art (OCMA). Events preceding the merger began in 2017 when the celebrated Gerald E. Buck Collection of 3,200 19th and 20th century California artworks were donated to UC Irvine. Dr. Stephen Barker, formerly dean of UC Irvine’s Claire Trevor School of the Arts, proclaimed back then that the Buck Collection, with art by Larry Bell, Tony DeLap, Lorser Feitelson, Gilbert Lujan, Helen Lundeberg, Agnes Pelton, Peter Voulkos and many others is, “The greatest collection of California art that nobody has seen.”

Arthur Grover Rider, Untitled (Taos, New Mexico), after 1918, Oil on canvas, 22 x 24 in. The Buck Collection at UC Irvine Langson Orange County Museum of Art

The University soon resolved that the Buck Collection, along with the Irvine Museum’s collection of California Impressionism (that had also been gifted to them), would become the genesis of a UCI museum, with a building to be erected on its campus, to be called the Institute and Museum of California Art.

In spite of valiant efforts, a museum structure to house those valuable works did not materialize, and the UCI collection was displayed for several years in a 6,000 square foot gallery in Irvine. Then last June, to the surprise of many in the art world, a proposed merger of Langson IMCA and OCMA was announced, with the expectation that the new entity would be located in the OCMA building in Costa Mesa. After months of plans and negotiations, the merger went through, and “Staging California” is the new venue’s first exhibition containing many pieces from the Buck Collection. Of the 50 art pieces on display, there are also works from the former Irvine Museum collection, from OCMA’s permanent collection and from loans.

Emil J. Kosa, Jr., How Marvelous Thy Works, after 1928, Oil on canvas, 26 7/8 x 37 ¾ in. The Buck Collection at UC Irvine Langson Orange County Museum of Art

The exhibition reveals the talent and technical expertise of artists who made their livings at film studios. “Untitled,” after 1932, by Paul Grimm (who painted virtuosic versions of clouds and overcast skies for films) is in this show. The painting illustrates sunlight and shadows illuminating a mountainous landscape. It contains detailed brushwork of the dessert foliage leading to the mountains, and the ridges and striations of the mountains, which are visually echoed by the sky and clouds above. Its luminous atmosphere captures the spirit of classic California Impressionism.

Dong Kingman’s background—he was born in Oakland, CA, raised in Hong Kong, and lived in both countries—and his work painting scenery for films including “Flower Drum Song,” 1961, influenced his personal artwork. While his paintings often contained cultural influences from the U.S. and China, his watercolor, “Along the China Coast,” 1965, is located in his beloved Hong Kong. As a major piece from the Buck Collection, it contains boats and people nestled among bushes and trees, with a village in the background, and a luminous body of water. The painting reflects the type of detailed graphic artwork that Kingman engaged in for the film industry.

Arthur Grover Rider’s “Untitled (Taos New Mexico),” after 1918, also from the Buck Collection, expresses magical Southland light, which is endemic to California Impressionism. Yet the painting captures a classic Taos scene with its scorched earth, low-slung adobe buildings and hillsides. Two other paintings in this show, expressing the grandeur of California’s purple-appearing mountains, are Warren Newcombe’s “Winter Ploughing California, Calabasas,” 1931, and Emil J. Kosa Jr’s “How Marvelous Thy Works,” after 1928.

George Gibson, Marche de Fleurs, Nice, between 1943 and 1945, Watercolor on handwove
paper, 15 1/2 x 22 5/8 in. The Buck Collection at UC Irvine Langson Orange
County Museum of Art

A surprising piece in this show is George Gibson’s “Marche de Fleurs, Nice,” 1943-45, likely painted during a trip abroad. This depiction of a village in Southern France, with people, homes, shops and potted flowers, is closer in technique and subject matter to classic French Impressionist paintings.

“Staging California” is a diverse and delightful exhibition, presenting an amalgam of film clips and paintings from a highly creative period in Southern California. It reveals how early Hollywood’s compelling and popular films depended in part on fine artists’ work shaping the viewers’ perceptions of our world. The show has further importance, as many paintings from the Buck Collection, now on display, have been in storage for years, with art lovers yearning to see them. The exhibition at UC Irvine Langson Orange County Museum of Art runs until October 4, 2026.

This article originally appeared in Roborant Review on July 6, 2026.

John Falter, Family Portrait on the Fourth, 1952. Cover illustration for the Saturday Evening Post

This year, as we commemorate our country’s 250th anniversary, our reputed President attempted to co-opt this momentous holiday with a barbaric UFC fight on the White House lawn, a failed attempt to paint the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool an “American flag blue,” and a highly partisan Trump rally on the National Mall after seeing most of the entertainment talent flee his sparsely attended Great American State Fair. David Frum wrote in “The Atlantic” that, “Trump has made a pitiful shambles of what should have been a glorious moment.”

Conversely, President Obama said at the opening of the Obama Presidential Center in Chicago, “It is our greatest inheritance, the story of America at its best, because it reflects a basic faith in the decency of our fellow citizens, and the possibility that, despite all of our differences, we can see each other and understand one another and make common cause together.”

“American Mosaic” celebrates the 250th anniversary of the United States. Created by composer Peter Boyer and photographer Joe Sohm

Regardless of what activities our current president engages in to make a hash of our semiquincentennial, I am celebrating my own memories of the sights and sounds of our country, accumulated over a lifetime, with the belief that we have arrived at a pivotal moment, and that we will overcome the nation’s current travails.

Having grown up in three of the original 13 colonies, I lived in and visited homes with architecture inspired by the old world Europe. I passed by homes with signs reading, “Washington Slept Here.” I visited Colonial Williamsburg, the reconstructed 18th century Virginia town with costumed actors portraying historical figures, and hiked the Appalachian Trail, which extends through 14 Eastern states. I visited a replica of the Mayflower near Cape Cod, and the nearby re-creation of the original Plymouth Colony. I walked to the top of the Pilgrim Monument in Provincetown, MA, with its displays commemorating the establishment of many New England towns.

Norman Rockwell, Freedom of Speech, 1943, offset color lithograph on paper, 48 x 35 ½ in., Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of Holly and Nick Ruffin

I have lived with the sounds of Americana, including but well beyond the patriotic marches of John Philip Sousa. These include music extolling America’s grandeur by composers like George Gershwin (“Porgy and Bess”), Charles Ives (“Three Places in New England”), Aaron Copland (“Appalachian Spring”), and Leonard Bernstein (“On the Town”). In Junior High, I learned the words of Emma Lazarus’s sonnet, “The New Colossus” (famously inscribed on the base of the Statue of Liberty) by singing the poem’s final stanza, “Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor,” set to the music of Irving Berlin’s 1949 musical, “Miss Liberty.”

At a recent concert by the Pacific Symphony in Orange County, CA, I was treated to a performance of a new addition to that compendium, “American Mosaic,” a collaboration by composer Peter Boyer with images by photographer of Americana Joe Sohm. The multimedia experience blends orchestral music, live narration, quotations from the Founders, and iconic images embracing people of all ages, races and ethnicities. The composition’s movements are evocatively titled “The New World,” “Rivers, Rails and Roads,” “Cities Arising,” “The North Star,” “The American Spirit” and “In Defense of Freedom.”

Jesse Wilcox Smith, Have YOU a Red Cross Service Flag?, 1918, Print, 32 x 25 in. Norman Rockwell Museum Collection

Images of America seared into my consciousness include those depicting our ambitions and struggles to establish, uphold and expand our democratic rights. A personal favorite is a copy of the July 4, 1776 “Declaration of Independence,” included among 250 artifacts in the exhibition “In Pursuit of Life, Liberty & Happiness” at the National Museum of American History.

Norman Rockwell’s 1943 series of paintings, “The Four Freedoms” — freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want and freedom from fear — are based on FDR’s 1941 State of the Union address. These familiar images continue to inspire me. Rockwell’s “Freedom of Speech” illustrates a working-class man speaking courageously to an attentive crowd. It serves as an antidote to today’s dysfunctional political climate and honors the many fearless citizens who refuse to accept the current regime’s efforts to destroy so many constitutional rights.

Tim O’Brien, Vote!, 2020, Oil on board, 19 ¼ x 12 ¾ in. Norman Rockwell Museum Collection

Other images that memorably express American liberty include Jessie Willcox Smith’s “Have YOU a Red Cross Service Flag?” (1918), created during World War I, and Tim O’Brien’s dramatic “Vote” (2020), from a time of attempted voter repression, especially for people of color. There is also John Falter’s “Family Portrait on the Fourth” (1952), which served as a cover illustration for the “Saturday Evening Post.”

The sights, sounds and images of our country not only help to illustrate and reflect the ideals of America’s evolving story; they strengthen the values that we celebrate. As Michelle Obama remarked at the Obama Center opening, “… you all have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that when we truly see each other, when we strive to bring out the best in ourselves and one another, oh, there is no limit to how high we can go.”

Installation view of Dear America (2002) by Tom Jones (Ho-Chunk Nation) in Dear America

By combining the images with the well-known lyrics, the artist explores his perspective on patriotic imagery, land ownership and representation. As a significant artwork in this semiquincentennial exhibition, it is one of 100-plus items. Included also are prints, photos and drawings, exploring our country’s landscape, its people and concepts of freedom, most from the National Gallery’s extensive collection of American art.

The exhibition is divided into sections. The “Community” section includes the Tom Jones’ series. Looking at the images, reading the song lyrics written on them, then reading the artist’s handwritten inscriptions reveal conditions that Indigenous people have endured over centuries. These include settler colonization, land seizure, forced removal from their homes, federal policies and broken treaties, all undermining tribal sovereignty.

The first panel with the lyrics, “My country ‘tis of thee,” portrays a depressed elderly Native woman, while a smiling angelic white woman stands behind her, overwhelming her, and holding a large American flag. The message is clearly that our country is owned by white settlers and their ancestors.

The second panel, “Sweet Land of Liberty,” is a collage of a 19th Century group portrait of Sioux Indians, with a victorious white hunter in the foreground. By displaying a large raccoon that he has captured, he symbolically indicates the white man’s ownership of the land. Jones wrote onto the image, “The hanging of 38 Sioux and Ho-Chunk took place just south of Mankato, Minnesota Valley Regional Library…[it was] the largest mass execution in North American history the day after Christmas, 1862.”

The third panel, “Of thee I sing,” a more positive version of the Native condition, pictures two proud members of the Lac du Flambeau Band from the Lake Superior Chippewa tribe, relaxing by a lake. The words, “Indians at Lac Du Flambeau Wis,” written by Jones onto the panel, refers to the Natives’ practice of catching fish at night by torchlight centuries ago.

“Land where my fathers died” depicts a distraught-looking elderly Indian man with two young boys, all wearing Native clothing. The desperation of the trio is echoed by the artist’s written words on the image: “The Ho-Chunk people were removed at least seven times by the United States government from their homeland in what is now called Wisconsin.”

“Land of the Pilgrims Pride” is a photo of a dozen young women dressed in traditional Indian regalia with head-dresses and feathers, and their hair in braids. Viewers can decide if the women are Native Americans from decades ago, or contemporary white women dressed for a costume party. The verse, referencing proud pilgrims invokes settler-colonial origin stories that marginalized Indigenous presence, as Native people have lived here for millennia. Regarding the image, 100 years ago, photos of Native people, real or manufactured, were offered as souvenirs to tourists.

The panel, “From Every Mountain Side,” with the words, “A council of the blackfeet Indians at Glacier National Park,” describing an image of Indians meeting harmoniously, is the most dramatic piece in the series. The image is collaged onto a 1910 flyer that says, “Indian Land For Sale, Fine Land in the West.” The artist has created an in-your-face example of white settlers embracing a bureaucratic ideology, transferring Indigenous land to white people. The doctrine is based on the belief that settlers had the God-given right to seize land that Indians had lived on for millennia.

“Let Freedom Ring” illustrates two young cowboys, posing to shoot someone in front of a hand-painted scene that captures the mythologizing of westward expansion. The panel exposes how settler ideas of freedom and property were often built through Indigenous dispossession and anti-Indigenous violence. It also references the entitled sense of freedom and ownership of the land that white people have possessed for centuries.

While there are more illustrative panels with subsequent “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” lyrics, these seven panels convey a powerful message about Native Americans’ centuries long struggles; specifically about their ongoing efforts to assert sovereignty, cultural survival, and self-representation.

“Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake, Denali National Park, Alaska” (1947), by Ansel Adams

Additional sections in “Dear America” include “Land,” honoring the grandeur of the American landscape. Here are paintings of the mist-shrouded “Tower at Tower Falls, Yellowstone” (1872) by Thomas Moran; Winslow Homer’s “Hudson River, Logging” (1891-1892), with two loggers admiring the magnificent scenery; the vibrantly colored “Grand Canyon” (1977), by Clare Romano; and “The Niagara Cascades” (2024), by Kay WalkingStick (Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma). The gelatin silver print, “Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake, Denali National Park, Alaska” (1947), photographed by Ansel Adams was made to advance Alaska’s wilderness as the “most important campaign in which I have participated.”

“Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Six Grandfathers, South Dakota” (2018), by Mitch Epstein

Mitch Epstein’s “Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Six Grandfathers, South Dakota” (2018) was shot with clouds partially obscuring the carved portraits. It references the controversial history of the monument as a symbol of broken treaties, as the Memorial was built on Native land. Mount Rushmore is in the Black Hills/Pahá Sápa land, guaranteed to the Lakota under the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty, but later seized by the United States; “Six Grandfathers” is the Lakota name associated with the mountain before the carving.

Also in the “Community” section, several intense portraits by Sedrick E. Huckaby reveal a unique manner of depicting Black Americans in the 21st century. His textured paint captures the emotions of people historically considered as marginal, aspiring to achieve entry into the middle class.

Embracing modernism, Robert Indiana’s pop art styled “Liberty ’76” (1974–1975) was created to celebrate the Bicentennial 50 years ago, with the message that genuine freedom is fundamental to our democracy.

The final section in “Dear America” addresses the concept of “Freedom,” with depictions of the American Revolution and the Civil War. These are followed by photos by Lewis Hine, “Climbing into America” (1905), a close-up of Italian immigrants arriving at Ellis Island, and Alfred Stieglitz’s, “The Steerage” (1907), an overview of immigrants arriving as part of the mass movement of people fleeing oppression.

“Artists have long helped us see America not just as a place, but as a living idea shaped by many voices,” said Kaywin Feldman, director of the National Gallery of Art. “Through these remarkable works from the National Gallery’s collection, visitors to the nation’s art museum can witness the power of art to illuminate our shared past, illustrate the experiences of our lives, and inspire our collective future.”

“Dear America” runs through September 20, 2026 at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D,C.

This article originally appeared in Roborant Review on June 15, 2026

Our Land (2022), John Pepion

“Creative Continuities,” at the Autrey Museum of the American West, features more than 100 objects selected for their historic, cultural and domestic importance and perspectives. Most date from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, with curation by contemporary Plains Indian artists John Pepion Niitsitapii (Blackfeet/Blackfoot), Brocade Stops Black Eagle (Crow), and Jessa Rae Growing Thunder (Dakota/Nakoda).

While examining the various objects, the three curators have spoken about how they were stimulated to reflect on their relationships with their own tribal communities. They recognized their connections with their ancestors’ blending of individual creativity and tribal cultural traditions, both of which are embedded in the art. They also experienced healing from centuries of mistreatment by working with and writing about the objects.

Curatorial Consultants, Brocade Stops Black Eagle (Crow), John Pepion (Blackfeet), Dr. Jessa Rae Growing Thunder (Dakota/Nakoda)

Most of the works included in “Creative Continuities” are identified by their Indigenous names, which are followed by English translations. The colorful selection of domestic and familiar objects includes clothing, horse regalia, beadwork, drawings, and various items used in daily life. The centerpiece of the show is an elegant life-size sculpture of a horse, colorfully adorned with beads, feathers and other materials.

The most recent work, Pepion’s “Our Land” (2022), is an ink illustration on an antique map of Montana. The image depicts a warrior wearing a split horn headdress with white ermine tails, alongside a galloping blue horse. The artist explains that his own tribe “often used ermine because the animal is territorial and fierce.” The drawing displays the bold linework and vibrant colors for which Pepion is known. The title and its iconography assert his reason for superimposing the drawing on a map of Montana—that the state has always been Indian land, and that attitude reflects an indigenist perspective shared by many Native Americans today.

Čhantióźuha (Pipe Bag), 1890, buckskin and glass beads

Other objects are more traditional and less provocative than Pepion’s painting. A Lakota (Sioux) “Čhantióźuha,” or pipe bag, circa 1890, selected by Jessa Rae Growing Thunder is a good example. Describing the scene depicted on the bag, Growing Thunder notes that the robe a woman is wearing around her waist decorated with striped beadwork is “a courting hide.” She faces a man, wearing a similar hide around his shoulders, who is holding a sword with a long feather trailer. A line of German silver discs run from his hair down his back. Growing Thunder further explains that the scene on the bag conveys intimacy.

Wínyaᶇ háᶇpakšupi (Shoes), 1920s, Hamilton-Brown Shoe Company high heels, leather, sinew, and glass beads

Growing Thunder was also enamored with a pair of Lakota (Sioux) “Wínyaᶇ háᶇpakšupi,” or Shoes (ca. 1920s). At the time the shoes were created more than a century ago, there was a resurgence of beading on heels and boots that frequently employed traditional Native symbols and designs. What holds our attention is the meticulous beadwork that decorates every surface of the shoes, including the heels, without impeding the ability to walk in them comfortably. The shoe creator’s ability to get the beads to lie flat along every curve, to have no glaring spots or gaps, and to have the beads “sit next to each other to accentuate the curves” is brilliant.

The “Napiᶇkpa,” or Gauntlets (1880), by a Dakota (Eastern Sioux) artist are more lavishly adorned than one might expect for so-called protective armored gloves. Created with synthetic rather than natural dyes, the gloves are decorated using quillwork techniques. They are adorned with birds, floral elements, eagles and stars, representing the stars on the U.S. flag. The latter two decorations referencing the United States are unusual additions for a Native American artist/craftsperson.

Dúusshile (Elk Tooth Dress), 1880s, trade cloth, elk teeth, bone, glass beads, and leather

Among Brocade Stops Black Eagle’s selections is a “Dúusshile,” or Elk tooth dress (1880s) made by an Apsáalooke artist. The dress is elaborately decorated with many elk teeth sewn individually onto it from the waist to the neckline, including the sleeves. The dress, artistically sewn with trade cloth, bone, glass beads and leather, is typical of Crow culture. It informs Native women that a family member of the dressmaker was a skilled hunter and a great provider for his family, as each elk has only two ivories, or canine teeth. Viewers might wonder what kind of strength and determination does it take to kill so many of these large animals?

These and many other objects in this show display the exceptional craftsmanship and creativity that Native artists have engaged in for generations. The artworks also serve as inspiration for their contemporary descendants, three of whom provide us with both engaging visual objects and insight into the rich cultural heritage from which they came.

Creative Continuities is at the Autry Museum of the American West, Los Angeles, through June 27, 2027.

Clare Romano, Grand Canyon, 1977, color collagraph on wove paper sheet

Eschewing that directive, museums across our country are displaying historically accurate exhibitions celebrating our nation’s 250th anniversary or semiquincentennial. Two of these museums are mounting shows that authentically address America’s history and victories, its social changes, immigration as a major force in our culture, issues with indigenous people and those of color, struggles to achieve the freedoms that are at risk today, and much more. These historically oriented museums include the National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C., exhibiting “Dear America,” and the Norman Rockwell Museum, Stockbridge, Massachusetts, presenting “American Stories: From Revolution to Rockwell.”

“Dear America” (running through September 10, 2026) brings together more than 100 artworks, including prints, photos and drawings, exploring our country’s landscape, its people and concepts of freedom, most from the National Gallery’s extensive collection of American art.

Lewis Hine, Climbing into America, 1905, printed 1930s gelatin silver print

The exhibition’s first section, “Land,” is devoted to the grandeur of the American landscape, referred to as sites of wonder, belonging, survival, and memory. The paintings include the mist-shrouded “Tower at Tower Falls, Yellowstone” (1872) by Thomas Moran; Winslow Homer’s “Hudson River, Logging” (1891-1892), in which two loggers admire the magnificent scenery; the vibrantly colored nine-segment gridded “Grand Canyon” (1977), by Clare Romano; and “The Niagara Cascades” (2024), by Kay WalkingStick (Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma).

The paintings are accompanied by the gelatin silver print, “Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake, Denali National Park, Alaska” (1947), photographed by Ansel Adams to advance Alaska’s wilderness as the “most important campaign in which I have participated.” Mitch Epstein’s “Mount Rushmore National Memorial, Six Grandfathers, South Dakota” (2018) was shot with clouds partially obscuring the carved portraits, referencing the controversial history of the monument, as both an example and a symbol of broken treaties, given that the Memorial was built on Native American land.

Robert Indiana, Liberty ‘76, 1974–1975, color screenprint on Lenox 100% rag wove paper

In the second section, “Community,” Tom Jones’ (Ho-Chunk Nation) painting “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” (2002) portrays an elderly Native American woman overwhelmed by a smiling angelic woman (a stand-in for the influx of white Americans) holding a large American flag over her. Several intense portraits by Sedrick E. Huckaby reveal the emergence of new ways of depicting Black Americans in the 21st century. His textured paint handling viscerally captures the emotions of people historically considered marginal, now aspiring to and often achieving entry into the middle class. Included also in this section is “The Family” (1976) series by Richard Avedon. Among his photos of politicians, media moguls and financiers are the more familiar images of Ralph Nader, Andrew Young, and President Jimmy Carter.

The final section in “Dear America” addresses the concept of “Freedom,” starting with depictions of the American Revolution and the Civil War. These are followed by photos by Lewis Hine, “Climbing into America” (1905), a close-up of Italian immigrants arriving at Ellis Island, and Alfred Stieglitz’s “The Steerage” (1907), an overview of immigrants arriving as part of the mass movement of people, “fleeing oppression and seeking new opportunities,” over the four decades leading up to World War I and the 1924 Immigration Act. Jumping several more decades ahead, Pop Art contextualized Robert Indiana’s “Liberty ’76” (1974–1975), created to celebrate the Bicentennial with the message that freedom is fundamental to our democracy.

James Montgomery Flagg, I Want You for U.S. Army, 1917, chromolithograph on paper

“American Stories: From Revolution to Rockwell” (running June 6 to October 26, 2026) will present the history, sweep and scope of Americana from the Revolution to today. The exhibition explores how artists have illustrated our nation’s ideals and its evolution, creating legendary imagery in the process.

Containing more than 250 works, including textiles, ceramics, paintings, prints, drawings and books, “American Stories” focuses on “the power of the image to express our aspirations, argue for social change, educate and entertain the populace, and bring light to dark moments.” The exhibition explains that America as an idea “is shaped, reflected, and honed” through many of these images.

Galleries display historic and contemporary art works, chosen to inspire us to ponder the importance of illustrations contributing to our national narrative. “A Sense of Place” includes a series of works that relate the history of Niagara Falls, from early illustrations of its Indigenous ownership, to paintings celebrating its natural grandeur, to images advertising its tourism industry, and finally to the Falls as a source of hydroelectric power.

Norman Rockwell, Liberty Bell (Celebration) 1976, oil on canvas

Images from the World Wars include the familiar James Montgomery Flagg’s “Uncle Sam Wants You for the U.S. Army” (1917), and J. Howard Miller’s “We Can Do It!” (1942). More politically oriented images by Tim O’Brien include “Go Back Where Your Came From” (2019), of the Statue of Liberty illustrated from the rear as she waves goodbye to immigrants, and his “Vote” (2020), of a young Black woman encouraging all of us to vote.

Several compassionate paintings by Norman Rockwell, in his typically finely wrought realistic style, express political and social values such as democracy, service and integrity. These include 1943’s “Thanksgiving.” of a young homeless woman warming up food in the chilly outdoors. In “Golden Rule” (1961), a tightly knit group of people representing different religions, races and ethnicities stand harmoniously together, above the words, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Rockwell created his final painting, “Liberty Bell (Celebration)” (1976) a few years before he died, “to commemorate the birthday of the nation he had spent his whole life depicting.”

Shonto Begay, Navajo Blue Highway, 2018, acrylic on canvas

Other topics in this vast exhibition are the natural world, innovation, the equal rights movements, and issues of Indigenous people. Shonto Begay’s painting “Navajo Blue Highway” (2018) focuses on a pickup truck carrying five Native American men and a dog, likely commuting from fields that could be in Gallup, Phoenix or Albuquerque back to their homes after a long day of working on the land. Its thick impasto brushwork, evoking the look of Vincent van Gogh’s nighttime paintings, conveys the intensity and determination of the Navajo people to survive and thrive.

“Dear America” and “American Stories” demonstrate that curators and museum directors can still mount historically accurate displays that stimulate, educate and inspire us, in spite of potential restrictions by our current administration. These courageous exhibitions support our ongoing freedoms and democratic ideals at a time when these values are being challenged.

Installation view of the inaugural presentation in the David Geffen Galleries, April 2026, photo © Museum Associates/LACMA

The recently opened David Geffen Galleries at LACMA offers a delightful new paradigm in museum construction and art presentation. Elevated 30 feet above the street, with 110,000 square feet of space, the galleries’ design and exhibitions within defy the traditional museum model of square white galleries with primarily chronological displays. The exhibits, organized around four major bodies of water—the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans and the Mediterranean Sea—are enchanting with their mix of several time periods within individual displays.

The extensive galleries, which took 20 years to construct, from conception to completion, for $724 million, are built largely of concrete, which provides solidity and warmth as a backdrop to the art. The venue contains floor-to-ceiling windows throughout, casting extensive, soothing light into the space, and sometimes glare onto the art, along with fabulous outdoor views. Stretching 900 feet from the original LACMA campus across Wilshire Boulevard, the Geffen’s dramatic shape, which resembles an amoeba, not only challenges traditional museum design. The wildly creative layout, with its expansive windows, welcomes the city of Los Angeles below and the Hollywood Hills beyond.

Diego Rivera, “Flower Day,” 1925, photo © Museum Associates/LACMA

This global museum, with 2,000 works on display, doesn’t compete with the more comprehensive museums in this country, including the Met and the Art Institute of Chicago. While cherishing its objects from many different countries, cultures and time periods, its curators have arranged the works from a fluid, non-hierarchical perspective, reflecting the nature of Los Angeles today, with its rich cultural heritage and diverse population. “We live in modern Los Angeles, where migration and interconnectedness are so essential to our daily life,” Museum Director Michael Govan remarked at the museum press opening on April 15. LACMA museum directors and curators would like visitors to “wander” freely within the venue’s open-ended and individual spaces, to not feel limited in their perceptions of art movements.

“Dog,” Mexico, Colima, 200 BCE-500 CE, photo © Museum Associates/LACMA

The six distinct art pieces described below are displayed throughout the museum, with one outside of it. Diego Rivera’s classic “Flower Day (Día de flores),” 1925, featuring magnificent calla lilies, is inspired by indigenous culture and by his study of European art. The painting, with its modern art influences, welcomes visitors to an exhibition of Spanish American art, while reflecting the multicultural city with its strong Latino heritage. Nearby, the elegant ceramic sculpture, “Dog,” 200 BC–500 CE, from Colima, Mexico, illustrates the Xoloitzcuintle, a hairless dog that was reported to have accompanied the dead on their journey to the afterlife.

George Bellows, “Cliff Dwellers,” 1913, photo © Museum Associates/LACMA

George Bellows’ “Cliff Dwellers,” 1913, is part of the Ashcan School of painting. Depicting the hustle and bustle of lower-class urban life with young women conversing, children playing, laundry hanging on lines, and buildings crowded together, the painting expresses the joy of togetherness, along with the gritty congestion of life in New York City’s Lower East Side more than 100 years ago.

Francis Bacon, “Three Studies of Lucian Freud,” 1969, photo by Prudence Cuming Associates Ltd.

A newly-acquired series is Francis Bacon’s triptych, “Three Studies of Lucian Freud,” 1969. The Irish-born artist, known for his raw, unsettling imagery, was a good friend and artistic rival of Lucian Freud. He celebrated their relationship by creating three nearly life-size, semi-abstract depictions of his friend. The series, with its first LACMA showing now at the Geffen Galleries, is hung where the museum crosses Wilshire Boulevard, affording visitors a magnificent view of the city.

Raymond Loewy, “Avanti,” 1961, photo © Museum Associates/LACMA by Yosi Pozeilov, LACMA Conservation Center

Raymond Loewy’s Studebaker “Avanti,” 1961, was created by one of the few industrial designers to be featured on the cover of “Time” magazine. The car on display was owned by Loewy who kept it at his Palm Springs home. After being acquired by LACMA, it was restored to its original splendor and shown there several times. It is prominently shown in this Geffen Galleries’ exhibition about car culture affecting California art and design.

Alexander Calder, “Three Quintains (Hello Girls),” 1964, photo © Fredrik Nielsen Studio

Alexander Calder’s monumental “Three Quintains (Hello Girls),” 1964, outside of the museum, was originally commissioned for LACMA in 1965 when the venue opened in its current incarnation. (Before then, it was part of the Los Angeles Museum of History, Science and Art.) The art piece is now reinstalled on the Geffen’s northeast corner, alongside the museum’s Erewhon cafe. Four water jets propel the colorful, graceful sculpture.

These are just a few of the many artworks on display at the David Geffen Galleries at LACMA, which also include pieces by Vincent van Gogh, Henri Matisse, Dorothea Lange, Carlos Almaraz, June Wayne and Betye Saar. Wandering throughout the museum spaces feels like a joyous art-filled adventure, propelled by curiosity and the love of art.

LACMA is the largest art museum in the western United States, with 155,000 objects, representing 6,000 years of artistic expression. The David Geffen Galleries will be open for member previews through May 3, and will be open to the public on May 4, 2026.

This article originally appeared in Roborant Review on April 28, 2026.

Mark Chamberlain and Liz Goldner at a Laguna Beach Festival of Arts Opening

Mark Phineas Chamberlain, 75, a long-time Laguna Beach resident, possessed an adventurous spirit that animated his life. That spirit morphed into an unquenchable desire to protect Laguna Beach and the larger world through photographic, environmental and installation art and through his curation of numerous exhibitions in his Laguna gallery, BC Space.

Born in Dubuque, Iowa, to parents Donald and Elizabeth Chamberlain, he grew up with older sisters Sarah and Belle, and younger sister Mary Beth. From an early age, he explored the hills and bluffs bordering the upper Mississippi River, and rode a variety of boats through its streams and channels. The athletically gifted youngster also delighted in climbing the town’s trees, and riding his bike up and down its hills.

His father, an insurance agency owner and descendent of Peregrine White—who was born on the Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor—demanded that Mark develop an expansive understanding of the world. Donald tutored his son, often sending him to the home’s unabridged dictionary to look up words. This ritual became the genesis of Chamberlain’s impressive abilities as a wordsmith, and helped him succeed in a variety of cerebral endeavors throughout his life.

Chamberlain became an avid reader, enjoying stories of boyhood adventures, particularly those by Mark Twain. He took on the moniker McHuck, reflecting his love of the river. At age 9, he contracted polio and remained home for nearly a year, while his mother helped cure him through the Sister Elizabeth Kenny approach to muscle rehabilitation. His mother’s devotion became the basis of his belief in women’s rights.

With his interest in world affairs, he received a bachelor and master’s degrees in political science and operations research, respectively, from the University of Iowa.

In February 1967, two days after receiving his master’s, he was drafted into the Army. Narrowly avoiding jungle duty in Viet Nam, he served a one-year tour in South Korea. He viewed that military experience as a turning point. While not engaged in active combat, he spent time with soldiers transitioning back from Viet Nam, regarding them as “broken people whose lives were changed forever.”

In Korea, “I picked up a camera primarily to keep my sanity and provide an outlet beyond the more common practices of drinking, whoring, and gambling,” Chamberlain often explained. “I also took classes in the Korean language and history and found a photography instructor in the military crafts program. Mr. Chae became a real mentor, teaching me darkroom techniques and forcing me to examine deeper meanings in my photographs.” He also roamed the cities and countryside, conversing with the local people while photographing their lifestyles.

“Returning home, I could not find the threads of my previous path,” he said, “yet I had a growing desire to find an outlet for this newfound passion of photography.” In 1969, he packed up his MG Midget and headed to Los Angeles, aspiring to open a photographic art gallery. When those plans fell through, he relocated to Laguna Beach in 1970, “a community that reminded me of the Midwest.” Along with photography, he supported himself as a housepainter, carpenter and electrician, developing skills he later employed constructing BC Space.

With art partner Jerry Burchfield, Chamberlain opened BC Photography and Custom Lab Services on April 1, 1973. In that 1,000-square-foot space, Chamberlain and Burchfield shot and processed film for commercial clients, galleries, museums and artists. They also presented photography exhibitions, displaying a wide range of work, many infused with political, social and environmental messages.

Their Laguna Canyon Project became a photographic documentation of Laguna Canyon Road. “We wanted to document changes of the canyon over time to create a broader awareness of regional and global environmental issues,” Chamberlain said. In 1988, he wrote in Journal of Orange County Studies, “Local residents see the canyon as a greenbelt buffer, while others view it as virgin territory ripe for development. We used photography, video, sculpture, performance, installations, and collaborative events to address these concerns.”

Local artist Pat Sparkuhl explains, “The numerous phases of the Laguna Canyon Project demonstrate how Mark has not pursued ventures to gain an immediate response, but rather with the concern of his ongoing career as an artist, showing his ability to understand and see the significance of ongoing environmental issues and transitions.”

The project’s largest and most dramatic phase was “The Tell” photomural. This giant work of “artivism,” as Chamberlain described it, was constructed in 1989, seven miles into the canyon, across from the Irvine Company’s proposed Laguna Laurel housing project. “The Tell” was built as a small mountain, composed of thousands of photographs, reflective of the people who donated their images. It grew to 636 feet long and a height of 36 feet high before dwindling to the ground.

“The Tell” became the site of numerous demonstrations, and received coverage in national and local media. “On Nov. 11, 1989, we coordinated with environmental groups to host a walk and demonstration to the mural, attended by several thousand people,” Chamberlain explained. “As a consequence, the canyon land was released for public acquisition and is now a key part of the Laguna Coast Wilderness Park.”

After Chamberlain assumed sole ownership of BC Space in 1987, he expanded exhibitions to other visual and performance media. “Ideas and issues expressed through art became more important to me than just one medium,” he explained. He explored controversial issues, including art as an expression of our deepest yearnings; the shamelessness of healthy sexuality; societal evolution; politics and economics; the defamation of indigenous peoples; the hell and hypocrisy of war; and environmental concerns.

Burchfield and Chamberlain’s documentation of Laguna Canyon led naturally to their creation of “The Legacy Project,” which documented the evolution of the Orange County Great Park. In July 2006, Legacy Project members converted a jet maintenance hangar into a camera obscura. With this device, they created “The Great Picture,” a 3,375-square-foot photo, portraying the control tower structures and tarmac of the former air base. The Guinness Book of Records certified the project’s camera obscura as the largest ever recorded.

Chamberlain continued to curate shows and photograph the artwork of others in BC Space, until sickened by lung cancer in January 2018. Yet, looking back, when he was alone, shooting and printing images, BC Space was his sanctuary, where he graciously welcomed clients, artists, and friends who stopped in.

“Mark is the rare embodiment of the renaissance artist/gallerist/activist, able to roam in different realms of art, with varied media, make it, show it, support others who show it, and not lose aesthetic focus,” said artist Janice Tieken, whose work was exhibited in several BC shows. “His gallery is that rare bright spot for the exchange of exciting ideas without the interference of the need for commercialism.”

Chamberlain’s final oeuvre was writing “The Laguna Canyon Project: Refining Artivism,” with seven contributors. Completed in December 2017 and published this year, it describes in words and photographs the creation and evolution of the Laguna Canyon Project. http://lagunawildernesspress.com/product/the-laguna-canyon-project/

Chamberlain died early on April 23, 2018 (the day after Earth Day), after a weekend filled with visits from friends and relatives at his bedside in an Irvine hospital.

Desert Mountain Range stone, James L. Greaves, Desert Homestead, Milford Zornes

Viewing stones, also known as “found objects,” are regarded by many collectors as pieces of art, with many stones evoking landscapes and other natural settings.

Richard Turner soon joined stone-collecting clubs, learning that stones have been collected and displayed for centuries in the Far East, particularly in China and Japan, while reflecting these countries’ aesthetics. He joined the stone clubs’ collecting expeditions, searching for these treasures in deserts, streams and mountain settings throughout California.

Turner, an artist and educator, has been admiring the mid 20th-century California scene paintings displayed at the 10-year-old Hilbert Museum of California Art, near his home in Orange. Five years ago, he began considering curating an exhibition that would pair viewing stones with paintings from the Hilbert Museum.

Paintings of the California coastline with shore and island stones

After the museum director Mary Platt approved of his proposal, Turner met with his stone collecting friends and borrowed 13 viewing stones to include in the show, with each stone reflecting different aspects of nature scenes, including deserts, mountains, streams and lightning. He added seven of his own stones to the collection. He also thoroughly perused the Hilbert Museum’s permanent collection of scene paintings, picking out 28 works to pair with the stones. The resulting “Stone and Scene” exhibition presents the beauty, symmetry and elements evoking nature in the stones and the paintings. The show also examines how landscape paintings reflect our natural surroundings.

The premise of this exhibition is based on the Japanese tokonoma, which is an alcove in a home displaying a scroll, along with ikebana arrangements, bonsai trees, viewing stones and other contemplative pieces. Both the stones on display and the paired paintings are, “miniaturizations of the landscape,” according to Turner.

Stone and Scene, Installation view

A stunning example of the pairings is the display of the painting, “Lightning Storm,” 1948, by Ruth Lotan, alongside the stone, “Lightning Strike.” The painting illustrates a farmhouse in a field, besieged by an overwhelming lightning storm. The dark stone on a pedestal has dramatic striations appearing like lightning, perhaps created by wind or sand, or both. Julie Polousky’s oil on canvas “Gnarled Tree (Methuselah),” 1940s is a detailed painting of an ancient bristlecone pine tree, alongside the equally ageless “Sentinel (Petrified Wood),” which has hardened to stone after several millennia.

A dramatic installation on the gallery’s north wall features paintings that take viewers on a journey of the seashore, the desert and mountain ranges. Noel Quinn’s watercolor “Woods Cove,” 1960s, depicts a favored Laguna Beach coastal spot with numerous bathers and bodysurfers reveling in the sunlit day. “A Stormy Coast,” 1960s, by Ralph Baker, takes viewers back to the ocean, but on a stormy day. Ralph Hulett’s “View of Death Valley,” c. 1950, displays the desert. And Conrad Buff’s undated “Capitol Reef, Utah” brings us to a popular tourist spot with its twisted stones, pillars and arches. Free-form stones on pedestals, enhancing these and other paintings, include “Lingbi Stone (China),” “Yuha Desert Stone” (from California’s Imperial Valley) and the twisted “Mojave Desert Stone.”

Tokonoma with scroll and stone

Two pairings in this show, flanking the doorway, are more cultural than visual. To the left of the doorway, Millard Owen Sheets’ watercolor “West Coast of Japan near Izumi,” 1967, is a meditative, abstract painting, illuminating the shapes and foliage that the artist admired in Japan. Just below the piece is the magnificent “Chrysanthemum Stone” from Japan, a free-form dark stone emblazoned with several lighter-colored chrysanthemum-like designs. To the doorway’s right is Arthur Burnside Dodge’s historic “Chinatown,” 1920s. As the only painting in this exhibition featuring people, it shows merchants and shoppers in Los Angeles’ Chinatown from 100 years ago. Turner joined the painting with his own artful, abstract “Taihu Stone (China).” “The paintings and viewing stones flanking the doorway reference the Asian origins of viewing stone appreciation,” he explains.

A clever pairing includes three semi-abstract watercolors by California native Phil Dike. The paintings, “Rocks of Cambria,” 1970, “Sea Images,” 1970, and “Malibu Set #7,” 1974-80, illustrate the beauty, aura and rugged quality of the rocks and outcroppings nestled near the California coast. Complementing these paintings is the installation “Tidal Shelves” created by artist and stone collector Paul Harris, who modeled it after his rock and plant arrangement in his own front yard. Turner explains, “It evokes an outcrop of coastal rocks crusted with shells and hollowed by boring clams, where perching birds watch over nested eggs. The stones were collected on cobble beaches along the Palos Verdes Peninsula. To the left are two stones on pedestals: one is a ventifact, shaped by wind-blown sand, and the other is a stone from the Eel River, formed by flowing water.”

Tidal Shelves, Paul Harris

As Harris told me a few years ago, these rocks express the geological passage of time, along with our role in preserving our planet.

“Stone and Scene,” the first exhibition that has ever paired viewing stones with paintings from a museum’s collection, according to Turner, will be open at the Hilbert Museum of California Art at Chapman University until October 4, 2026.

This article originally appeared in Roborant Review on April 8, 2026.

Andy Moses

Andy Moses’s work addresses the relationship between abstraction and landscape, and is achieved through broad sweeping brushstrokes, often inspired by the Pacific Ocean near where the artist grew up.

Living by the water, watching the colors and light in the atmosphere had a profound effect on Moses. As a budding artist, he decided to build paintings that feel alive and animated, to have viewers see their colors and tonalities change, while using their imaginations to connect them back to nature.

Beyond The Cirrostratus, 2003, Acrylic on canvas

He employs pearlescent paints, which contain tiny mica flakes that cause the colors to shift slightly or change appearance based on the viewing angle. He also thins the acrylic paint down “to the consistency between milk and a milk shake,” then uses an elaborate technique of tilting the canvasses, causing the paint to flow, creating the feeling of spontaneity in the finished pieces.

The Deep, 2005, Acrylic on canvas over concave wood panel

Often working with concave canvasses, Moses produces works that simulate, “looking out from the water and seeing the curve in the horizon and the light dancing on both the water and sky,” he explains. He also began visiting the California desert two decades ago, observing the horizons and the play of light on both land and sky. “I really think of these paintings as a way of representing this sense of universal horizons, but they are still very much about color and gesture leading back to abstraction.”

The earliest painting here is the tondo “Beyond the Cirrostratus” (2003). As the only all white pearlescent painting in the show, it is a shimmering example of paint attracting and reflecting the light in the room, becoming a spiritual mirror.

Permian Basin, 2010, Acrylic on canvas over concave parabolic wood panel

“Siren Song” and “The Deep” (both 2005), comprised of deep blues and grays with striations of green on concave canvasses, are among Moses’ earlier representations of the atmosphere, looking out toward the ocean. Aesthetically minimalist, they are examples of his early forays into using paint, rather than reflective industrial materials, to capture the spirit of Southern California’s 1960s and 70s Light and Space art movement.

Moses grew up in a SoCal community of Light and Space artists who worked with resin, glass, neon and other materials to reflect in their art the shimmering aspects of the area’s celebrated sunsets and seashore atmosphere. Inspired by this powerful art movement, Moses’s creative practice evolved towards paintings that employed the medium itself with its shifting colors, his technique of pouring the paint, and his shaped canvasses. His body of work creates similar effects to those of the original Light and Space era as it emerged more than 50 years ago.

Boreas, 2011, Acrylic on canvas over concave parabolic wood panel

“Permian Basin” (2010), executed on a concave parabolic wood panel, demonstrates the artist’s evolution in his pouring technique to create spontaneous striations. In various shades of red and blue, the painting evokes a brilliant desert sunset. The similar “Boreas” (2011) emphasizes the artist’s penchant for experimenting with color that simultaneously affects our perception, mood, and imagination.

Geomorphology 1601, 2022, Acrylic on canvas over concave wood panel

“Geomorphology 1601” (2022) features primarily golden hues with secondary shades of light blue and pink. A highlight of the neighboring Frank Cuprien exhibition at Laguna Art Museum, the painting “The Golden Hour, Laguna Beach” (c. 1923), with its depiction of golden waves rippling into the shore at dusk, could have inspired Moses’ work of a century later.

Geodesy 1008, 2024, Acrylic on canvas over circular wood panel

Two recent circular works, “Geodesy 1228” (2022) and “Geodesy 1008” (2024) display Moses’ continuing ability to create deftly designed vortex-like images that draw the eye towards their centers. Their stunning designs demonstrate his penchant to risk optical experimentation, rather than repeat the style of paintings that were already popular.

Altogether the 12 paintings in the show, rounded out with the mountainous “Metamorph 1502” (2017), create a visual chorus of works that metaphorically sing together in harmony.

Metamorph 1502, 2017, Acrylic on polycarbonate mounted on wood panel

“Andy Moses: Into the Light” runs until September 20, 2026.

As the catalog accompanying the exhibition, containing paintings from 2007 to the present, explains, “Their personhood emanates from the intangible mix of body language, facial expression, clothing choices, color, and, most importantly, gaze.” The catalog adds that her portraits prompt reflections on how Black Americans have been misrepresented, and invite new understandings about race in our country.

“Sherald’s portrait, “Trans Forming Liberty,” 2024, is of a beautiful trans woman wearing an elegant blue gown and luxurious red wig, while posing as the Statue of Liberty. With her bold, stately expression, she conveys the artist’s and the model’s (a trans woman) desires that the freedoms described in our Constitution be applied to all people, regardless of race or sexual orientation.

Amy Sherald, Trans Forming Liberty, 2024, Oil on linen

“Trans Forming” is so controversial that the artist cancelled her scheduled 2025-2026 showing of “American Sublime” at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Portrait Gallery, as the museum suggested withdrawing it from the exhibition. In the “New York Times,” Sherald, who brought her show to the Baltimore Museum, stated, “It’s clear that institutional fear shaped by a broader climate of political hostility toward trans lives played a role … When I understood a video would replace the painting, I decided to cancel.” While admiring “Trans Forming Liberty,” a woman near me began talking about her neighbors whose child recently became a trans woman.

Amy Sherald, They Call Me Redbone, 2009, Oil on linen

“They Call Me Redbone, but I’d Rather Be Strawberry Shortcake,” 2009, another compelling portrait, features a charming young woman, dressed in a strawberry patterned pinafore with pigtails fashioned with red polka dotted ties. Sherald’s use of “redbone” is derived from the 18th and 19th century term, used to describe individuals of mixed African, Indigenous, and European descent, and later for light-skinned black people with red or warm undertones. Exhibition labels explain that Sherald, who was often called redbone in her youth, is transforming the disparaging moniker by portraying the self-possessed young woman. The model, with her head tilted to the side and glossy pink lips, manifests the radiant charm of a teenage model in “Seventeen” magazine.

It is significant that Sherald’s Black subjects’ skin tones are painted in grayscale to challenge the concept of color as race. She also positions most subjects against monochromatic backgrounds, providing few if any clues about their locations. Her intention is to create direct encounters between the viewers and her subjects, while focusing on their inner lives—which she skillfully accomplishes.

Sherald composes her completed scenes with great care. After selecting her models, she decides on their outfits and settings, and then photographs them. Working from these photos, referred to as “studies,” she presents versions of Black Americana that transcend racialized tropes. Her subjects are, “simply living lives of richness, rightness, and greatness in their ordinariness,” according to the catalog. Sherald identifies with and has been compared to portrait painter Alice Neel (1900-1984), an artist who manifested passion and dignity in her portrayals of people, and was identified with the social and political movements of her time. In addition, Sherald directs her paintings to hang slightly lower than the usual museum height, so that viewers can connect directly with the subjects.

Amy Sherald, Breonna Taylor, 2020, Oil on linen

One of Sherald’s most important portraits is “Breonna Taylor,” 2020, created soon after the 26-year-old woman was killed by police in her home in Louisville, Kentucky. After the young woman became an almost instant symbol of gun violence, the artist was invited to paint her portrait to appear on the cover of September 2020 “Vanity Fair” magazine.

Planning every detail of the portrait, Sherald met her family and boyfriend, studied her postings on social media, used a Facebook photo for her face, and asked a friend to model for her body. The resulting portrayal conveys the compassionate, forthright woman that Taylor’s friends and co-workers knew and loved. The finishing touch to the painting is the inclusion of an engagement ring, which had not yet been given to her by her boyfriend. Sherald is quoted about the painting: “I knew I had to do it. I knew it was a way to focus not on her death but…on her aliveness and what her life meant.”

Amy Sherald, For Love, and for Country, 2022

“For Love and For Country” (2022) is an unabashed reinterpretation of the renowned Alfred Eisenstaedt 1945 photograph, “V-J Day in Times Square,” of a sailor kissing a woman during the celebration marking the end of World War II. As some criticisms of the photo have addressed the whiteness of the two people, their heterosexuality, and masculine conquest, Sherald appropriates the image to include two Black men in military uniform. The painting also honors the numerous Black soldiers who fought in the war, whose service was unacknowledged, and who experienced prejudice upon returning home.

Amy Sherald, Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama, 2018

The pièce de résistance of this remarkable exhibition is “Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama,” 2018, the official portrait of First Lady Michelle Obama. As her first official commission, Sherald stated, “I wanted to produce something that…alluded to the nuances of who [Obama] really is versus who she has to be.” The artist chose for the portrait a dress by Milly designer Michelle Smith, with its geometric patterns used by the Gee’s Bend quilters in Alabama. She also photographed Obama in an open, unguarded pose. Eschewing the formality that typifies most official portraits, the First Lady is posed in a characteristically thoughtful and gracious state, while revealing her authentic forthright nature.

Amy Sherald describes herself as a “conceptual portraitist,” indicating that her completed figurative paintings delve deeply into the nature of her subjects, while avoiding the more formal aspects of most conventional portraits. The exhibition, which closes on April 5, 2026, is the Baltimore Museum of Art’s most attended exhibition in 25 years. Attendance has exceeded 80,000 visitors.

Amy Sherald, 2024, photo by Olivia Lifungula

“Amy Sherald: American Sublime” premiered at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art on November 16, 2024. It then traveled to the Whitney Museum of American Art, and to the Baltimore Museum of Art. The exhibition was organized by SFMOMA and curated by Sarah Roberts, the museum’s Curator and Head of Painting and Sculpture.

“Amy Sherald: American Sublime” originally appeared in Roborant Review on March 19, 2026.

The foundations of Williams’ style, long termed “lowbrow art,” blend an old master style of figuration combined with dystopian imagery, psychedelia, and popular illustration. Its roots lie in his youthful apprenticeship with car detailing master Ed “Big Daddy” Roth and the underground comics movement of the late 1960s, in particular “Zap Comix.” The nearly 60 works in “Fearless Depictions,” spanning the last 25 years, embrace you with a delirium of mad monsters.

Williams is also a prolific writer in an existential manner. His essays describing his paintings are an integral part of the show, going well past the usual wall labels. His open-ended descriptions leave us free to interpret the paintings’ equally elaborate messages. Here are some of my favorite paintings from the Long Beach Museum of Art exhibition.

Robert Williams, Heralding the Entry of King Infinitus, 2021, Oil on canvas

At the entrance to the show, “Heralding the Entry of King Infinitus” (2021) immediately accosts us with its repetitive interpretation of an unnamed, mad blonde-haired king (who might that allude to?), clad in royal purple, as courtiers and sycophants announce his presence. The magic of this piece is that the king is not a singular figure, but a relentless succession of identical monarchs dominating the canvas well into the distance. Among Williams’ nearly incomprehensible descriptions of the king, he writes, “King Infinitus lives in the Kingdom of Astroperpetuity. But for our purposes, the king exists in an impure space-time setting.”

Robert Williams, Auditory Sadism, 2013, Oil on canvas

“Auditory Sadism” (2013) centers on a young man lying in a field with his hands covering his ears, blocking out the insistent sounds coming from seven open jaws with red, snake-like tongues, all yelling at him. The distraught figure is a stand-in for anyone who feels bombarded by constantly changing media messages, from podcasters and pundits who compete for our attention, and from anyone who launches into seemingly endless verbal onslaughts. Williams writes, “In this picture, the graphic noise is so silently earsplitting that the viewer can hardly see over the incessant tirade.”

Robert Williams, Death by Exasperation, 2010, Oil on canvas

“Death by Exasperation” (2010) is a parody of the Lewis Carroll nonsense poem, “Jabberwocky,” from “Through the Looking Glass.” Williams’ painting features a purple Jabberwock collapsed on the ground and under the care of a modern medical team, as an enormous red “Non Sequitur” dominates the scene. A stern doctor stands calmly before the composite creature, as a nurse attending the fallen Jabberwock glares at him in the midst of the commotion. The artist brings the Victorian-era nonsense poem into a whole new realm of the absurd. The poor Jabberwock is appropriated to become a part of Williams’ own menagerie of fantastic illusionistic creatures.

Robert Williams, Justifiable Concern, 2020, Oil on canvas

“Justifiable Concern” (2020) could be a little league baseball player’s — and his mother’s — worst nightmare. The boy in his baseball outfit and his well-dressed 1950s-style mom are shopping in a sporting goods store, where they are confronted by “a bloated red devil feigning insufferable agony. His swollen, distended belly is erupting in several places, violently expelling its writhing contents,” as Williams writes. The devil is expelling a variety of miserable cartoon characters, including pirates, devils, clowns and an Indian, while the mom covers her son’s anguished face with her hands. The surreal apparition reads as a product of both mom’s and son’s imaginations, as though it reflects a disagreement, one that continues to preoccupy them.

Robert Williams, The Intruder, 2023, Oil on canvas

“The Intruder” (2023) continues the devil in the sporting goods store story, as it explodes the myth of the picture-perfect family preparing to enjoy Thanksgiving dinner together in their well-appointed dining room. The mother, father, son, daughter, grandmother and grandfather are confronted by a cartoonish interloper made of piping and studs with a long nose and tongue. It gleefully comes through the front door even as it lifts the home off of its foundation. If the family appears to be one from out of a storybook, the invading creature exposes its deep secrets and fears.

Throughout the show Williams appeals to our fascination with imaginative details and the blended pleasures of comedy and horror. Sixty years on, so much has changed for this paragon of everything lowbrow who enhances our understanding of the underbelly of our world, which has become as dystopian as it was during the era of the counterculture movement that first brought Williams to public attention.

“Fearless Depictions” continues through May 31, 2026 at the Long Beach Museum of Art

Amy Sherald, Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama, 2018, Oil on linen

Yet one individual among many who have reacted against his DEI proclamations is Amy Sherald. She is known for her portrait of “First Lady Michelle Obama” (2018). Since painting that portrait, her reputation has continued to grow. The San Francisco Museum of Modern Art commissioned the 2024 exhibition, “Amy Sherald: American Sublime,” a suite of her portraits of Black people. The exhibition traveled to the Whitney Museum of American Art soon after, and was scheduled to open at the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery in September 2025.

Amy Sherald, Trans Forming Liberty, 2024, Oil on linen

But Sherald withdrew from the Smithsonian showing when her painting, “Trans Forming Liberty,” featuring a transgender woman holding a torch while posing as the Statue of Liberty, might be pulled from the exhibition. In the New York Times, Sherald stated, “It’s clear that institutional fear shaped by a broader climate of political hostility toward trans lives played a role … When I understood a video would replace the painting, I decided to cancel.” The Times article also quoted Trump attorney Lindsey Halligan: “The ‘Trans Forming Liberty’ painting, which sought to reinterpret one of our nation’s most sacred symbols through a divisive and ideological lens, fundamentally strayed from the mission and spirit of our national museums.”

Baltimore Museum of Art, 2025, photo by Maximilian Franz

Sherald redirected “American Sublime” to the Baltimore Museum of Art, a venue focusing on equity and diversification. Museum Director Dr. Asma Naeem agreed to mount it in just two and a half months. Curated by Naeem, the exhibition opened on November 2 to strong critical acclaim and will continue until April 5. I toured the show on February 12.

Sherald is just one of many artists and art institutions affected by the Trump Administration’s anti-DEI efforts. The whitehouse.gov website, under the banner, “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” accuses the Smithsonian Institution of promoting “divisive, race-centered ideology” that portrays American and Western values as inherently oppressive.

Frontispiece of George Washington Williams, “History of the Negro Race in America,” G.P. Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1883. Courtesy of the Library of Congress.

The web page asserts that America has “witnessed a concerted and widespread effort to rewrite our nation’s history.” With this command, Trump signed an executive order in March 2025 to remove “divisive, race-centered ideology” from the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture (NMAAHC). Artifacts removed include George Washington Williams’ book, “History of the Negro Race in America,” originally published in 1883, and a bible carried by Martin Luther King Jr.

Another executive order, posted under the headline, “Making Federal Architecture Beautiful Again,” also in the whitehouse.gov website, mandated that federal buildings conform to the classical traditions of Greek and Roman antiquity and of the Renaissance. The edict lambasts “Brutalist” and “Deconstructivist” architecture, the style of many federal buildings constructed in the Post World War II era, casting them as aesthetic failures rather than as historical styles.

National Park Employees remove signage related to slavery from the President’s House in Philadelphia’s Independence Historical Park, January, 2026. Courtesy of the Washington Post.

Earlier this year, Trump demanded that the National Park Service remove interpretive panels on slavery at George Washington’s home at Independence National Historical Park in Philadelphia. The panels detailed Washington’s ownership of enslaved people within the broader historical context of slavery. Judge Cynthia M. Rufe ordered the Trump administration to restore the displays, while referencing George Orwell’s “1984,” as an example of the Park Service removal.

Reverberations extend well beyond these exhibitions. The Institute of Museum and Library Services, founded in 1996, has been a major source of federal grants to libraries and museums. In its recent cover letter to institutions seeking grants, the words “inclusive,” “equity” and “diverse” have been deleted. In previous years, the letters pledged to “promote inclusive engagement across diverse audiences.” Organizations, such as the Whitney Plantation in Louisiana, which, “educates the public about the history and legacies of slavery in the United States,” have elected to not apply for IMLS grants this year. Others, such as the New Jersey-based Black Inventors Hall of Fame — not yielding to Trump’s Orwellian efforts — are applying for IMLS grants nonetheless.

Amy Sherald, For Love, and for Country, 2022, Oil on linen

When I visited “Amy Sherald: American Sublime,” I met with Anne Elliott Brown, the museum’s Senior Director of Communications. She told me that the exhibition was their most attended show in 25 years. Attendance is expected to reach 75,000 by the time it closes. Dr. Asma Naeem said in a press statement, “What we’re hearing again and again is how deeply people feel seen, moved, and connected in these galleries This moment reflects not only her enduring impact as an artist with roots in this city, but also the power of art to bring people together and feel kinship and joy.”

In an online statement following Trump’s State of the Union Address, the National Urban League “revealed overwhelming support for equal opportunity principles. More than 70% of voters rate diversity, equity, and inclusion positively, while 89% view equal opportunity favorably.”

On the day I visited “American Sublime,” the galleries were packed with mostly women of all ages and races, nearly all of them exultant at the artistry and joy conveyed by Sherald’s portraits. Viewers spoke quietly with each other, several sharing intimate stories from their own lives. The exhibition expresses art’s capacity to affirm dignity and expand self-recognition, and demonstrates how art can liberate the humanity within us, while transcending ethnic and national boundaries to move us universally.

Sophie Calle at the Musee Picasso, 2024. Photo by Yves Géant

Calle’s projects are seductive, challenging our normal personal boundaries, springing from her intense desire to explore the vicissitudes of human nature. Her body of work, created over the course of five decades, probes humanity’s relationships, emotions and frailty, with the artist serving as a key component of the ventures. Each detailed written description is as essential a feature of her larger oeuvre as her photos.

“The Spy” is a decades-long project in which she assumes roles and spies on others’ personal lives. She has worked as a housekeeper in classy hotels, opening visitors’ drawers and suitcases, looking at their clothes, shoes and underwear, examining the beds they sleep in, the toiletries they leave in the bathrooms, and even the trash the throw out. She obsessively photographs and writes about her findings. By exhibiting the fruits of her discoveries in galleries and museums, she invites us to become co-conspirators in her secretive scenarios.

Sophie Calle, The Sleepers (Gennie Michelet, thirteenth sleeper), 1979, 11 black and white photographs

As part of this project, she surreptitiously follows people on the streets. One of her ”Spy” sketches reads, “Concealing my emotions, I determinedly cross the piazza, circle around the monument, and pretend to study it. I feel his eyes on me. I walk along the hospital’s right wing. There’s an alcove. Finally, I’ll be out of his sight.” This and many other sketches reveal Calle’s relentlessly self-observing nature, which she mines for her unusual text and photo based art.

“The Protagonist” series, begun in the 1980s, is centered on her own life. As she goes about her daily activities into the evening and early morning, visiting the Louvre, a café, talking with strangers on the street, some of whom take her picture, attending a movie, a party, taking a taxi home in the early morning hours, she serves as her own archivist. It is difficult to imagine living an endlessly interesting, glamorous life while writing down nearly every detail, but Calle does just that. The catalog explains that these sketches can be curious, moving, embarrassing, funny, or a combination. An example: “At 2:10 p.m., I move on. I cross the Pont Royal and head for the Louvre. At 2:20, after walking quickly through the museum, I find myself in front of Titian’s ‘Man with a Glove.’”

Sophie Calle, Bad Breath, 1994, gelatin silver print

“The Sleepers,” begun in 1979, is among the most curious of Calle’s series. The artist is seen asking various people, many of whom she has just met, to sleep in her bed. Surprisingly, several people agree to do so — perhaps because this project happened in Paris when mores were looser than they are today. She wrote about one participant: “He goes to bed without changing the sheets. He regrets not having brought his cat, of not finding someone in the bed at his arrival since he likes coincidences and sly looks. He says he was sleepy when he arrived, he yawned when he saw the name of the street. But he doesn’t sleep.” Observing a person, particularly one of the opposite sex inhabiting one’s own bed, and writing about it, invites viewers to superimpose their own fantasies — sexual and allegorical — onto the piece.

“The Razor Blade,” an individual work in her “True Stories” project, relates Calle’s brief gig posing nude for a drawing class. She tells of a male student who drew her for three hours every day for 12 days. At the end of each session, he brandished a razor blade that he used to slash his drawing to pieces, left it on the table as evidence and left the room. Apparently disenchanted by his performance, Calle made the 12th day in class her last one.

Sophie Calle, In Memory of Frank Gehry’s Flowers, 2014, installation: pigment

As her fame and notoriety spread, Calle met architect Frank Gehry in Los Angeles in 1984. He offered to be her impresario and sent her flowers on the opening days of her exhibitions, all of which she photographed. These photos, along with a picture of the dead flowers, are displayed as a memorial to Gehry, who died at age 96 in December.

Sophie Calle, Room with a View, 2003, pigment print mounted on aluminum

There are those who regard Calle as an exhibitionist who transforms her bizarre adventures into amusements for the well-heeled. But by the 2000s she was a celebrity performance artist. For “Room with a View” (2002), from her “Autobiographies” series, she spent a night in a room set up for her at the top of the Eiffel Tower. For eight hours, this free spirit lay in bed up there, welcoming hundreds of strangers, each of whom spent five minutes at her bedside telling her a story. The project concluded at 7:00 a.m. when she returned to earth. She wrote, “As if to confirm that I hadn’t dreamt it all. I asked for the moon and I got it.”

Sophie Calle: “Overshare” is at UC Irvine Langson Orange County Museum of Art, Costa Mesa, California through May 24, 2026