Caitlyn Liu
October 26, 2025
Alhena Katsof
Practicing Curating
Experiencing to ignite our skin felt like observing the body in modes of transformation: decay, regeneration, and resilience. The exposed brick walls, steel beams, and towering ceiling of the space crafted an atmosphere, both industrial and organic. The building's architecture was brought to the forefront, actively participating in the exhibition itself. Curator Jovanna Venegas utilized the existing architecture as an entity that had experienced its own processes of wear, repair, and renewal.
The exhibition developed through sentiments surrounding tension and suspension. The sculptures, seized between collapse and rise, bear the marks of use and decay. Patricia Ayres’s 2-12-1-14-4-9-14-1, 2025, a soft and swollen form, took a central positioning, with stitched fabric bulging under its own weight. It felt human and nonhuman all at once, akin to a mutated body formed under pressure. Across from it, Elaine Cameron-Weir’s series of metallic ejection seats sat in a linear position, remnants of flight technology that suggested both escape and abandonment. Their stripped metal and harnesses mirrored the building’s steel framework, reinforcing the show’s focus on fragility disguised as endurance.
The works in the show occupied a wide range of materials. Textiles, bronze, organic matter, and steel appeared side by side, creating visual friction rather than harmony. The gallery guide described the exhibition as exploring “shedding as a condition of the contemporary body,” and that felt visible everywhere. The sculptures looked as if they were participating in the ever-evolving process of transformation rather than demonstrating ideas of completion. Similarly, the lighting of the space followed this notion. The skylight’s filtered daylight hit surfaces unevenly, creating a shifting mood as the day progressed. The show felt alive to its own temporality.
What stood out was how the space encouraged movement. The arrangement of the works required walking around, crouching down, and looking upward. The floor mainly remained open, allowing the eye to travel across different heights and materials. Venegas’s decision to avoid tight clusters of work permitted each piece to breathe, while simultaneously letting negative space become part of the story. The exhibition did not feel crowded or hierarchical, and instead, it felt like a network of relationships.
The exchange between decay and regeneration extended through smaller gestures. In one corner, delicate bronze leaves rested along a steel ledge. Their stillness contrasted with the suspended sculptures above, suggesting a quieter form of transformation. Underneath, Umico Niwa’s 10 Metropolis Series: Loving the Vagabond, 2025, a grid of bamboo and twigs loose and brittle, mirrored fragile architectural scaffolding that could collapse at any moment. The decision to include these fragile works alongside heavy industrial materials enhanced the show’s sense of balance.
Social and political layers emerged subtly through material histories rather than explicit statements. The use of military elastic, salvaged airplane seats, and organic residue suggests connections to systems of labor and violence without deliberately illustrating them. Venegas’s curatorial voice seemed less focused on deliberately delivering clear answers and rather letting material hold contradictions. The works revealed how the human body, like the museum's architectural body, carries traces of survival and history.
The exhibition text described metamorphosis as both seductive and dangerous, an idea that heavily permeated the space. Moving through the show, I found myself returning to the idea of “shedding”. Is it about escape, or does it signify returning to something more raw and exposed? The show resisted a final conclusion, inviting viewers to linger in ambiguity.
to ignite our skin was like a slow unraveling. Venegas’s curatorial choices emphasized material vulnerability, spatial dialogue, and a refusal of resolution. The result was not a sterile display of objects but a living, breathing environment, where materiality absorbed time, light, and air. By allowing the building, the works, and the viewers to coexist in tension, the exhibition asked us to see transformation not as progress, but as persistence.
October 26, 2025
Alhena Katsof
Practicing Curating
to ignite our skin: Exhibition Response
Experiencing to ignite our skin felt like observing the body in modes of transformation: decay, regeneration, and resilience. The exposed brick walls, steel beams, and towering ceiling of the space crafted an atmosphere, both industrial and organic. The building's architecture was brought to the forefront, actively participating in the exhibition itself. Curator Jovanna Venegas utilized the existing architecture as an entity that had experienced its own processes of wear, repair, and renewal.
The exhibition developed through sentiments surrounding tension and suspension. The sculptures, seized between collapse and rise, bear the marks of use and decay. Patricia Ayres’s 2-12-1-14-4-9-14-1, 2025, a soft and swollen form, took a central positioning, with stitched fabric bulging under its own weight. It felt human and nonhuman all at once, akin to a mutated body formed under pressure. Across from it, Elaine Cameron-Weir’s series of metallic ejection seats sat in a linear position, remnants of flight technology that suggested both escape and abandonment. Their stripped metal and harnesses mirrored the building’s steel framework, reinforcing the show’s focus on fragility disguised as endurance.
The works in the show occupied a wide range of materials. Textiles, bronze, organic matter, and steel appeared side by side, creating visual friction rather than harmony. The gallery guide described the exhibition as exploring “shedding as a condition of the contemporary body,” and that felt visible everywhere. The sculptures looked as if they were participating in the ever-evolving process of transformation rather than demonstrating ideas of completion. Similarly, the lighting of the space followed this notion. The skylight’s filtered daylight hit surfaces unevenly, creating a shifting mood as the day progressed. The show felt alive to its own temporality.
What stood out was how the space encouraged movement. The arrangement of the works required walking around, crouching down, and looking upward. The floor mainly remained open, allowing the eye to travel across different heights and materials. Venegas’s decision to avoid tight clusters of work permitted each piece to breathe, while simultaneously letting negative space become part of the story. The exhibition did not feel crowded or hierarchical, and instead, it felt like a network of relationships.
The exchange between decay and regeneration extended through smaller gestures. In one corner, delicate bronze leaves rested along a steel ledge. Their stillness contrasted with the suspended sculptures above, suggesting a quieter form of transformation. Underneath, Umico Niwa’s 10 Metropolis Series: Loving the Vagabond, 2025, a grid of bamboo and twigs loose and brittle, mirrored fragile architectural scaffolding that could collapse at any moment. The decision to include these fragile works alongside heavy industrial materials enhanced the show’s sense of balance.
Social and political layers emerged subtly through material histories rather than explicit statements. The use of military elastic, salvaged airplane seats, and organic residue suggests connections to systems of labor and violence without deliberately illustrating them. Venegas’s curatorial voice seemed less focused on deliberately delivering clear answers and rather letting material hold contradictions. The works revealed how the human body, like the museum's architectural body, carries traces of survival and history.
The exhibition text described metamorphosis as both seductive and dangerous, an idea that heavily permeated the space. Moving through the show, I found myself returning to the idea of “shedding”. Is it about escape, or does it signify returning to something more raw and exposed? The show resisted a final conclusion, inviting viewers to linger in ambiguity.
to ignite our skin was like a slow unraveling. Venegas’s curatorial choices emphasized material vulnerability, spatial dialogue, and a refusal of resolution. The result was not a sterile display of objects but a living, breathing environment, where materiality absorbed time, light, and air. By allowing the building, the works, and the viewers to coexist in tension, the exhibition asked us to see transformation not as progress, but as persistence.