Updated posts 2026
I have been following Joel Shapiro‘s work ever since it first appeared in the early 1970s in the pages of Artforum Magazine, where a very memorable essay by the art critic and poet Carter Ratcliff was published. To my mind, the evolution of his work begins with objects reduced in scale—small objects, miniatures, if you will, placed on the floor.
This was followed by a series of house-like structures made of wood or cast in bronze and iron, which were then displayed on shelves or low pedestals. Eventually, Shapiro simplified his approach to the figure, akin to a stick figure, and then moved on to small cube-shaped houses on shelves and low pedestals, as well as figurative forms.
Shapiro’s figurative works have been shown and commissioned all over the world—in Houston, Tampa, Paris, Rome, and even in my nearby Albany, NY. Recently, Shapiro has presented new cast bronze works in an extraordinary exhibition space in Mexico. Puerto Escondido is the location of this open-air staging, conceived by Tatsuro Miki and Axel Vervoordt of the Kasmin Gallery, which hosts this exhibition. As explained in their press release, Meridiano aims to expand the possibilities of the traditional gallery model by offering an open framework for long-form, site-specific, and experimental exhibitions of new work by artists working internationally and across disciplines.
Opened in the winter of 2023, this newly built complex will present such avant-garde installations over a six-month period. The structure housing the sculptures appears to resemble ancient architecture, including an open ceiling to the sky. Natural light becomes part of the display as shadows move across the floor, mimicking Shapiro’s forms, and bright daylight adds to the dramatic effect of the dark bronze against light walls. This is brilliant staging, as we have all become tired of the conventional white-walled, empty-box space; new ideas for presenting contemporary art abound. I’ve always wanted to organize installations such as this in the rooms of the Cloisters in uptown Manhattan.
The white cube the writer is reacting against was itself a deliberate invention rather than a default. Galleries and museums adopted the neutral, windowless room through the middle of the twentieth century on the argument that stripping away context let a work be seen on its own terms, a position Brian O’Doherty dismantled in a well-known series of essays in the 1970s by pointing out that neutrality is itself a strong frame with its own effects. Putting sculpture back under open sky returns a variable the white cube was built to eliminate — light that changes through the day, and shadows that become part of the work.
Elegant and graceful like Matisse’s bronze odalisques, yet Shapiro is undoubtedly inspired by Cubism. His abstract compositions and figures are built on rectangular elements: arms, legs, and the torso all share the same formality, yet the varying lengths of the rectangle can suggest an arm, leg, or even a head. Shapiro’s figures aren’t static; they are usually depicted in action—walking, dancing, twisting, bending, gliding, turning at extreme angles. Whether a model, dancer, or acrobat, the viewer is left to decide the theme. Nonetheless, for works of minimal style, they are highly expressive and energetic, suggesting joy, delight, and even freedom. Having visited his studio in Long Island City over the years, it is most notable for the amount of work being made, explored, and tested, akin to a real workshop. Paint and color sometimes become part of the process, in painted wood or patinated bronze.
What has always drawn me to Shapiro’s work is its highly intelligent character and its emotional impact. His sculptures remain on the verge, never fully claiming to belong to just one category; one might ponder whether they are abstract or figurative, or perhaps both. They dynamically linger in the balance of both. Unlike the late Carl Andre, a founder of the Minimal school in American art, Shapiro imbues his minimalism with content, ultimately questioning how we perceive geometry in relation to ourselves and the world.
On the invitation, Shapiro responded: “I was immediately struck by the sensitivity of Meridiano’s architecture to the site and surrounding landscape, as well as the raw, natural beauty of both. It is deeply gratifying to be able to install my sculptures in a place where they will be in dialogue not only with the sublime architecture but also with the natural environment.”
