Visual Arts

by Mary Holiman

First published March 24, 2026 in DC Trending substack here.

Making Their Mark: Works from the Shah Garg Collection at the National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA) is a kaleidoscope of textiles, paintings, sculptures, and mixed-media works that celebrate our humanity and imperfections. Drawn from the personal collection of Komal Shah and her husband, Gaurav Garg, co-founder and managing partner of Wing Venture Capital in Silicon Valley, the exhibition centers on abstract art and explores themes of representation, identity, and power through women’s eyes.

Abstract art emerged in the 20th century as a movement with various styles, relying on shapes, colors, forms, and gestural marks rather than depicting reality. Featured in the exhibit, artists use everyday materials such as women’s pantyhose and leftover paper from a hole puncher to push the limits of abstraction, all while reclaiming their autonomy, embracing their bodies, and defying negative beliefs about women aging. Contributors such as Kay WalkingStick, Joan Semmel, and Samia Halaby are in their eighties and nineties. Despite decades of obscurity and a lack of institutional recognition, the exhibit is a testament to women’s craft, creativity, and resilience, affirming that through it all, women continue to create with conviction and confidence, telling our own stories on a canvas.

“Many of the artists who moved me most were women of my generation who were actively reinventing abstraction. – Komal Shah”

This statement draws attention to what seems like a deliberate choice — bringing the exhibition to the nation’s capital at a moment when funding for diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives, safe spaces, and the organizations that support them is being stripped away. The National Museum of Women in the Arts (NMWA) holds a singular distinction: it is the first and largest museum in the world solely dedicated to women, housing over 6000 pieces from more than 1,500 artists – among them Indigenous, African, and Palestinian voices.

In a 1989 study of the Metropolitan Museum of Art by the Guerrilla Girls, it was found that women produced fewer than 5% of the works featured in Modern Art galleries, while a staggering 85% of the nudes were female. Since then, although these figures have changed, the disparity remains.

So, in many ways, the NMWA stands as a direct rebuke to these institutions. It’s that kind of gender inequality seen in the art world, as well as in her own career in a male-dominated field, that first inspired tech-aficionado-turned-art-collector Komal Shah.

Komal Shah, born and raised in Ahmedabad, India, initially found her bearings in the technology industry after discovering computer programming at a young age. It’s a career she held for nearly 20 years after completing her master’s degree from Stanford University in computer science/engineering, and an MBA from the Haas School of Business at UC Berkeley, which led to jobs at Oracle, Netscape, and Yahoo! before she set her sights on philanthropy and the transformative power of art. Building her collection deliberately after stepping away from the world of computers and engineering, her passion has accumulated into nearly 400 and counting pieces of art from the likes of Elizabeth Murray, Trude Guermonprez, Rina Banerjee, Jennifer Bartlett, Laura Owens, Carol Bove, Carrie Moyer, Phyllida Barlow, Jaune Quick-to-See Smith, and Cecily Brown, establishing her as one of the most influential collectors in California. She also currently serves on the Board of Trustees of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and previously served on the Board of Trustees of the Asian Art Museum. She also serves on the acquisitions committees of the Hammer Museum, the Studio Museum in Harlem, and MoMA, underscoring her reach and influence well beyond the Bay Area. It is through this same spirit of advocacy that Shah co-founded the Making Their Mark Foundation, which highlights women artists through scholarship, support, and public engagement.

The Making Their Mark: Works from the Shah Garg Collection will be on display at the National Museum of Women in the Arts from February 27th to July 26th. Admission is $16 for adults, and $13 for D.C. residents, visitors 65+, students, educators, active-duty military, veterans, and those with a Native/Tribal affiliation. For visitors 21 and under, with disabilities, and/or SNAP/EBT holders, admission is free. The museum is also free to all guests and visitors on the first Sunday and second Wednesday of each month.

by Mary Holiman

This article was first published in DC Trending substack December 14, 2025, here.

For many, when we think of art fairs and galleries, the likes of Miami’s Art Basel or the Armory Show in New York come to mind.

You see, although art has long been a critical part of various cultures- from cave drawings to paintings and sculptures, there’s a common criticism that art, the making, creating, and even the buying, is for the elite, the upper echelon of society. And in the era of AI, it’s more imperative now than ever that we remember art’s organic origins, and color outside the lines, all over again.

In comes The Superfair, formerly known as the Superfine Art Fair, a leading platform for independent, contemporary artists and creatives since 2018, with its start right here at DC’s own Union Market. The Superfair held this year at Gallery Place (November 7th – 9th) isn’t just any art festival, but a movement, one that redefines how art is experienced by empowering independent artists, elevating the collector’s experience, and encouraging authentic relationships between the artist and the ones who support them. If you’re interested, the next Superfair will be taking a trip to the Lone Star state in Austin, Texas from February 20-22nd, 2026, with other stops in the San Francisco Bay and the city that never sleeps – New York City!

Admittedly, when I was first approached with the opportunity to review the event, I was unsure of what to expect. I’d never attended something of this size and caliber before, and truthfully, I never really gave much thought to the idea of collecting art, intimidated by the prestige and the cost.

But, as soon as I stepped in, I was transported to another world – one full of bold colors, traditional African fabric, and pop art, just to name a few. Each piece of artwork tells a story, some a reflection of the past, others in honor and remembrance, and one that combined a teacher’s love for science and art.

Perhaps, it’s this ability to take everyday objects and commonplace things and turn them into elaborate works of art, the embodiment of a picture book from start to finish, that made The Superfair this past weekend so unique, warm, inviting, and in the words of curator and fair manager Sharone Halevy, “immersive.”

But, more than anything, it also felt like an ode to local flavor and a tribute to identity. Because isn’t that what’s makes the capitol city so great, with a diverse list of artists, some near, and others far, some with a professional background, or family lineage?

Yet, despite these differences and traits that made us stand out from each other, and despite the variety in mediums, styles, and techniques, we all ended up at the same place, bonding over shared experiences, lifestyles, or, in my case, even the same name.And maybe, just maybe, that’s the beauty of The Superfair, aside from the awe-inspiring canvases and creativity displayed, bringing people together. Even if it’s only for a little while, and reminding us that in times of crisis, disjointed pieces can still make a pretty picture.

By Rasheeda Campbell

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine here.

Hardworking, creative, and passionate are three words artist Shayn Green (she/her or they/them) uses to describe herself — and rightfully so. As the creator of Big Nose Baddies, Green has built a vibrant, unapologetic art collection that celebrates Black features and redefines traditional beauty standards. Through her bold use of bright colors, diverse textures, organic elements like plants and flowers, and—of course—beautifully rendered big noses, Green’s work glorifies ethnic features often underrepresented in mainstream art. 

Back to the Beginning

It all started in 2021 with Green’s first piece titled, Afropunk. Inspired by a photo of herself taken at the Afropunk Festival in Atlanta, Georgia, she found herself moved by the celebration of Black identity that surrounded her through the festival’s music and culture, and the sheer presence of people who looked like her. “I wanted to create artwork that would resonate with the Black people in my community with similar features and experiences,” she said.

The Inspiration Behind the Work

To Green, Black people and the connection within the Black community has influenced her art the most. Much of her inspiration also comes from her own family, where large noses are a proud and recurring trait. “Facial features like this that are passed down not only connect us to each other but to our origins, and in some cases can be one of the most ancestral connections we can make,” she said.

Representation in Art

“Representation in the art world has become more accessible than in the past and it’s easier to connect with artists of diverse backgrounds … [but] in the future I’d like to see even more representation and diversity in large galleries, art shows and residency programs for BIPOC and LGBTQ+ creatives,” said Green. Growing up around Black art, music, and entertainment at home helped her find inspiration early. But outside of home is where she quickly noticed the lack of wider representation. “A large portion of the representation we did receive was mostly centered around Black hardship [and] although there should be space held for those stories, it is only a fraction of what we are,” she noted. As a Black and queer woman, Green puts her identity into her art hoping to reach the person who was teased for their natural hair or was told their nose and lips were too big. Her bright and bold pieces are her way to show the world that Black features are beautiful and deserve to be seen.

Overcoming Challenges and Looking Ahead

Despite facing challenges like limited time, financial strain, and burnout, Green has learned to give herself grace and let her creative process unfold naturally. Recently, she completed a Big Nose Baddies Spring Collection featuring flowers, fruits, and clouds. Her upcoming Summer Collection will celebrate LGBTQ+ pride and the fun elements of summer she loved as a child. Her advice to emerging artists is to try different mediums, explore what speaks to you, and “…don’t compare yourself … or feel discouraged when starting out because everyone’s journey is different and you will find your rhythm in time.”

By Teniola Ayoola

This article was originally published in the DC Line here.

Did William Gropper leap into the future, or have we been pulled back into the past? Are we truly progressing as a society, or merely cycling through the same struggles in new forms? Seeing William Gropper: Artist of the People, a recently opened exhibition at The Phillips Collection, in the wake of the tumultuous 2024 presidential election feels less like a journey through history and more like staring into a mirror that reflects our own fractured reality. The content of Gropper’s provocative body of work — spanning painting, political cartoons and printmaking — remains strikingly relevant today. This 20th-century artist never softened his message to appease sensibilities or prioritize aesthetics. Instead, his art is deliberately unsettling, challenging viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about power, inequality, and the moral decay that perpetuates them.

Gropper (1897–1977) was born in New York City to Jewish immigrants. Though he distanced himself from religious Judaism as an adult, he used his art to confront antisemitism and speak out against the Nazi regime and the Holocaust. The death of his aunt in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of 1911 sparked his lifelong advocacy for workers’ rights. His bold paintings, prints and cartoons tackled themes of racism, labor exploitation and the rise of fascism. A radical nonconformist even during his art education, Gropper’s dedication to using his craft as a tool for social change earned him the title “Artist of the People.”

Gropper’s approach in his political cartoons is vivid and direct — a kind of accountability rare in any era and increasingly rare today. Rather than resorting to “subs” or subliminal critiques, Gropper would “@” his targets directly if he were around now. His work speaks to our age of social media and polarized politics. Take Travel Companions (1936), where he positions U.S. Rep. William Lemke of North Dakota alongside Adolf Hitler and the antisemitic radio personality Father Coughlin. This is Gropper at his most confrontational, exposing alliances that he saw as challenging the very fabric of democracy. In Lincoln Observing Corrupt Politicians, Silver Shirts, and the KKK (1940), he places President Abraham Lincoln as a silent witness to fascist sympathizers like Coughlin and U.S. Rep. Martin Dies of Texas, his presence a reminder of what’s at stake when power is abused. By the time we reach We’re Just Crazy About Fascism (circa 1940), Gropper strips away all pretense, showing figures like Charles Lindbergh and William Randolph Hearst as unashamed proponents of fascism. The pieces don’t just critique — each one documents the moral battles of his time, giving viewers an unvarnished look at who held power and how they wielded it.

The moral battles of Gropper’s era echo seamlessly into ours, a point the exhibition underscores with insight: “Over half a century since their creation, Gropper’s work exposes universal human concerns, including the fragility of our democracy, which continue to persist,” Phillips Collection director and CEO Jonathan P. Binstock explains in a press release on the exhibition. Yet while strongly conveying Gropper’s timeless themes, the curators miss an opportunity to deepen this relevance. Making clear the contemporary parallels — perhaps by juxtaposing Gropper’s art with recent political cartoons or commentary on today’s authoritarian trends — would make the exhibition even more resonant. It is not enough to just display Gropper’s work. By linking specific works to our current socio-political climate, curators could emphasize the cyclical nature of the issues Gropper confronted, inviting viewers to consider his legacy as an urgent call to action.

One of the exhibition’s standout works, Congressional Declaration (1947), hits at the core of American hypocrisy. The post-World War II cartoon shows two politicians editing the Declaration of Independence, lifting a brush to add exclusions to the tenet of “all men are created equal” — except for “negroes,” “Jews,” “women” and other groups. Published in the magazine New Masses during the Red Scare, this work takes aim at America’s shaky relationship with its founding ideals, exposing how racism, sexism, antisemitism and anti-labor sentiments erode our democratic foundation. As the 2024 election cycle has shown, democracy demands vigilance, and Gropper’s message — that equality and justice are neither self-fulfilling nor self-perpetuating — could not feel more relevant.

Visually, Gropper’s use of black and white heightens his critique, creating images that strike harder than color could. Admittedly driven in many cases by the practicalities of mass printing, the stark contrast in his work reflects a binary Gropper saw between justice and injustice, power and the powerless. The lack of color doesn’t feel like a limitation but a strategic choice, amplifying each line and shadow. In Capriccios (1953–57), a series of 50 lithographs, the absence of color serves as an aesthetic and moral weight, forcing viewers to grapple with his subjects’ grotesque expressions, exaggerated gestures and the shadows that loom large, like the ideologies he opposes. It’s a message for today’s cartoonists: Sometimes, what’s left out speaks louder than what’s included.

The exhibition’s design is equally impactful. Separating Gropper’s monochromatic works from his few color pieces creates a powerful contrast that accentuates the scope of his vision. After immersing ourselves in the severity of black and white, we encounter Construction of the Dam (1938), in which Gropper uses color sparingly yet purposefully. A study for a mural at the U.S. Department of the Interior headquarters, it portrays Black and white workers laboring together on a Works Progress Administration project, an image of unity that stood against the norms of segregation. Here, color doesn’t distract from — it amplifies — Gropper’s vision of inclusion and equality. His rare use of color underscores his critique of an exclusionary society, showing that even mundane choices can carry political weight.

Ultimately, William Gropper: Artist of the People offers more than an art exhibition; it’s a rallying cry that resonates with the urgency of our current political moment. While Oscar Wilde’s essay The Critic as Artist may argue for critique that beautifies, Gropper transforms critique into a demand for justice. His works compel us not only to recognize society’s flaws but to address them — a call that feels especially relevant as we face the divisive climate in the aftermath of the 2024 election. With its unfiltered lines and relentless satire, Gropper’s art wields a lance against complacency, daring us to confront societal failures head-on. This exhibition reminds us: The loudest statements are often made by what’s stripped away.

William Gropper: Artist of the People at The Phillips Collection opened Oct. 17 and continues through Jan. 5. The museum is located at 1600 21st St. NW.