Our impressions of Hawai‘i have often been so overtaken by stereotypes—by the simulacra of tiki culture or The White Lotus, as appealing as they are—that its history and native visual culture are regularly obscured.

Contours of a World seeks to correct the paltriness of the art historical record. Both the Tate Modern in 2024 and the Guggenheim in 2021 acknowledged Münter’s centrality in Der Blaue Reiter and as a significant participant in early twentieth-century European modernism, but in the current show, she is presented as an artistic voice in her own right.

A Grand Sweep covers thirty years of Helen Frankenthaler’s career, ranging from the then-twenty-nine-year-old painter’s Jacob’s Ladder (1957) to Toward Dark (1988), finished when she was sixty—from hints of narrative and iconography to a melancholy looming of paint.

UFOs didn’t always look like this: they have their own art history. There are remarkably few flying saucers in Voice of Space: UFOs and Paranormal Phenomena, a show at the Drawing Center curated by Olivia Shao, though they do make some appearances.

I met with Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum over Zoom in early November. It was late afternoon in The Hague, the Dutch city of old masters and international diplomacy she now calls home. We spoke about her newest exhibition of paintings on panel and drawings at Galerie Lelong in New York, Parabellum, and the liminality that adheres to space, time, identity, and growing up.

“I just received this wonderful note: one of the visitors, in the handwriting obviously of a young child, left me a note that said, ‘I love the art, but why are all your images fuzzy?’ I love that.” That was how Ann Hamilton began her answer to me about what she’d learned from the process of developing We Will Sing (2025), a large-scale project installed in Bradford, UK. Hamilton portrays her projects as tapestries, nodding to her beginnings as a textile artist and referring as well to the tightly woven visual and aural communities that result from her interventions and collaborations. Acknowledging the close attention undertaken by her visitors and responding with love is emblematic of Ann Hamilton’s embracing and generous practice.

The opening walls of Tomma Abts’s newest exhibition at David Zwirner are empty, just expanses of gleaming white in front and to the left of our eyes. The three works included in the first gallery hang to our right and behind us—one, Nanko (2025), by itself and the other two, Saske (2024) and Tekes (2022), near each other on the same wall. We could read this as modesty or perhaps as an opportunity for a moment of blankness after leaving the busyness of the street; maybe it’s both.

At Craig Starr this spring, Tom Otterness re-presents The Frieze, for many of us displayed for the first time. Despite originally intended in 1981–83 as an architectural molding, Otterness has installed it now as discrete panels, all cast in 2025. The work depicts a battle of the sexes, with women facing off against men and deposing (and quartering) their king. 

In addition to its focus on artists’ collectives, Electric Dreams establishes the collaborative by displaying art as “‘systems’ to transmit information, with self-regulating and responsive behaviours (feedback loops) in which the viewer or their environment becomes an active component.” 

Run Together and Look Ugly after the First Rain at Casey Kaplan continues Amanda Williams’s exploration of color, questions about black and Blackness, and interest in the built environment while pushing her practice conceptually and materially. 

Galleries have long been exemplars of adaptive reuse, and Jack Shainman is no exception. The School, the gallery’s upstate project in Kinderhook, NY, repurposed a former high school, opening in 2014 with an inaugural show by the artist Nick Cave.

Sixteen years ago, artist Francis Alÿs realized The Gibraltar Projects: Don’t Cross the Bridge before You Get to the River (2008), a performance that called for collaborators to launch boats on each shore, thereby connecting the European and African coasts across the 7.7-mile narrow point of the Strait of Gibraltar.

Curated by Jess Wilcox and Heather Alexis Smith, Shape Shift is a retrospective that does not trade in nostalgia; rather, it is propulsive and purposeful, much like Burton’s intelligent pursuit of architectures that cause us to think, and think again, about art, its forms, and its communities.

This fall, the polymathic artist Robert Longo will see four different solo exhibitions open within a month of each other. Longo and I spoke in his studio in August 2024 before he traveled to Europe, in a conversation that ranged from his current shows to his beginnings as an artist, from how he finds and uses images gleaned from the internet to his desire to make work that is immediate—that “happens every time you see it.”

Once you turn the corner of the corridor that begins Doug Wheeler’s installation DN ND WD 180 EN - NY 24 (2024), you see a light-filled niche at a slight distance off to the left while you confront a glowing magenta panel, so potent that it reflects and hovers in the glossy floor you’ve just walked onto.

In her solo installation at the Wallace in London, painter Flora Yukhnovich responds to the institution’s exemplary collection of Rococo paintings while simultaneously taking direct aim at longstanding concerns about the “feminizing” quality of the Rococo and worries that all-over painting might skew toward the decorative.