Study for Algorithmic Field Painting 22
2025, oil pastel and watercolor on paper, 11½ x 4 in.
The pastel study I made on Hart Island for the 22nd painting in this series. Since the only way I could visit the island was on a Parks Department tour awarded by lottery, painting in situ would have been impossible. For more information about this site, I recommend visiting my original post about the painting.
Floating clouds over meserole
2025, oil on cotton paper with c-prints, 12 x 16 in.
An experiment in combining painting and photography. The methodology is different than in other Screen Memories works; rather than juxtaposition, nothing additional is revealed, it is simply more image. Cutting round-edged mat windows required a bit of technical innovation and took several seasons for me to wrap my head around
RE: intelligence
2025, oil on cotton paper, 12 x 9 in.
Or, maybe I’m too online for my own good, sometimes.
Pictures that contrive their own insular
referential semiology, sound familiar?
Difficult to avoid, now that they’re raised to
geopolitical significance.
Did you know
they’re making a regular ass cat
live in the zoo?
Richter cover
2025, oil on canvas paper, 12 x 9 in.
An experiment in painting a purely abstract subject as if it were a representational picture. Or taking Richter’s irreducibly procedural technique and warping it to my own style, after a detail I took at the last Zwirner show.
In transit II
2025, oil on canvas paper, 12 x 9 in.
One of my aims with this series is to take painting from photographs, which has become so normalized by studio practices, into a format that is self-aware about the process, in order to keep painting about what our ever-changing relationship to an image is. Some sort of transformation has to occur to make painting worthwhile, which is why I paint from unremarkable photos I’ve taken almost thoughtlessly, out of an earnest desire to discover something in the process. Some people paint from beautiful photographs, but I think that makes painting redundant. When I juxtapose two images, it is to counteract the mental compartmentalizing we do when we encounter a steady flow of images on our phones, not by creating meaning or narrative through the juxtaposition, but by resolving them simultaneously—something that is uniquely possible in painting.
Mixed behavior
2025, oil on canvas paper, 12 x 9 in.
New work on paper from my ongoing “Screen Memories” series, reclaiming photos from my phone, and in the process finding a connection between media, recollection, and painting. This picture (titled after an Anri Sala lift) is about unusual light and crowds, two experiences ephemeral to painting on site. It depicts a concert (inside or outside is unclear) where the performer is effaced, with onstage screens and a ray of light that seems to stretch to the sky.
Algorithmic Field Painting 27 (40°46’43.1”N 73°53’31.5”W)
2025, oil on canvas, 38 x 28 in.
In Ditmars Steinway, near the Laguardia long-term parking lot, there are some beautiful municipal buildings bearing WPA-era exterior reliefs and glass block windows. The supervisors at the sewage treatment plant radioed each other to check out my painting-in-progress and were keen to know how much my paintings were worth. When I told them, one replied, “you mean for a picture of this dump? That’s GREAT!”
Algorithmic Field Painting 26 (40°40’55.3”N 73°44’05.8”W)
2025, oil on canvas, 28 x 9 in.
I was confronted by the neighborhood watch while setting up this painting and ended up having to retreat around the corner where the residents were kinder to my conspicuous presence. While I can sympathize with a close community’s mistrust of outsiders, I very rarely meet folks who view my painting with hostility. There is something about suburbia that frightens me more than any inner city
Algorithmic Field Painting 22 (40°51’32.0”N 73°46’13.0”W)
2025, oil on canvas, 23 x 8 in.
A painting that might appear simple, even incomplete, but in reality took 4 months to make. When I found out that Hart Island, the remote burial ground for the city’s indigent and unclaimed dead, had begun to accept visitors after transfer from Corrections to the Parks Department, I knew I had to get there. After 3 months of trying, I made it into the lottery to visit. On the tour, I only had a few minutes to complete a pastel study of the enormous peace monument built by Rikers inmates near where a Nike missile launcher once stood during the Cold War. This is the only painting in the series not completed on site, as it would otherwise be impossible.
Pleased to announce my participation with @katherinestasaph in a virtual pavilion of @thewrongbiennale by @unrequitedleisure open through March 31, 2026. Visit through the portal link in my bio.
about not by, for not from
Jump into a landscape where artists probe the cultural gravity of algorithms without surrendering authorship to them. Here, works surface as signals, glitches, and offerings—crafted for imagined robot audiences, optimized for invisible crawlers, or resisting the very frameworks that parse them. The exhibition expands the conversation around AI, not through its creations, but through human gestures that orbit, unsettle, and reframe its reach.
Artists: @plathhack@whatliat Rob Duarte @klayjamesenos@katherinestasaph@mcfahnestock@amyhoskinscc Hey There Kapplow, Linda Loh, Jessye McDowell @ken.rinaldo Amber Ruth @travisleroysouthworth@pwhittenberger@lorainewibleart Tyler Worthington & Joshua Yates
Curated by @chaletcomellas and Clint Sleeper
