The Whitney is ground zero for promoting and preserving the legacy of this iconic genius. Its holdings comprise 3,100 works and represent 10 percent of the entire collection. The first painting purchased was Early Sunday Morning (1930). It is a study in isolated storefronts, a horizontal view where a barber pole and a fire hydrant seem to be stand-ins for an absent populace. It’s as good a place as any to begin our journey to understand Hopper’s obsession with the city.

There are set pieces to stumble upon, with Danish armchairs and plastic ashtrays placed in front of a black-and-white TV playing The Munsters, that evil family of witches that look pretty benign by today’s standards. Life magazine covers and poetry journals celebrating the likes of Frank O’Hara and Ed Sanders proliferate and wallpaper kitschy enough to put a smile on even the most erudite in the crowd. 

Dressing for Carnival,(1877) features a Black man being sewn into his Harlequin costume by family members for a traditional African celebration. Is this a promise of better times for these former slaves, which the wall notes suggest? Perhaps. A helpful hint to visitors would be to let the magnitude of the art speak for itself first, then use the history lesson as needed. A good example is The Cotton Pickers (1876).  A pair of hardy muscle-bound women fills the canvas. Their dark forms cut into the foreground, contrasted by the clusters of snowy cotton in their shoulder bags. The image needs no explanation.

Recognition for some is like being in the center of a floodlight, instantaneous and often too bright to withstand for long. For others, fame can feel like a lucky penny, found in the sidewalk crack after a long rest. For artist Faith Ringgold, there was no rest. If she was under the radar for many, she kept creating, drawing from personal autobiography and collective histories to both document her life and to illustrate the struggles for social justice and equity. 

Dancy has received numerous significant honors and awards, including: a John Simon Guggenheim Foundation Fellowship, New England Foundation for the Arts/NEA Individual Artist Grant, Nexus Press Artist Book Project Award, Visual Studies Artist Book Project Residency Grant, The American Antiquarian Society’s William Randolph Hearst Fellowship, a YADDO Fellow, Women’s Studio Workshop Residency Grant, Connecticut Commission of the Arts Artist Grant, as well as a Connecticut Book Award Illustration Nominee.

Death as a theme has a place in the artist’s obsessions. Later paintings depict skeletons as part of the imagery with a lightheartedness that makes one think the artist at 91 has come to terms with the issue of mortality. One work places the skeleton over an original silhouette of the artist from his own shadow. Another earlier and more somber image is based on a 1965 war photograph by Larry Burrows with Marine corporal James Farley crumpled in grief over the death of a comrade. 

The title of the exhibit, Put It To The Fire, references centuries-old healing rituals practiced across the globe, where fire is used as a metaphorical cleanser, releasing unwanted energies, mindsets, and attachments in order to create space for new intentions to grow and thrive. The exhibit intends to address multiple aspects of the mental health journey: from pain to healing, and suffering to hope.   

Jane Lee, aka Messy Desk, creates pieces that are full of joy, with her characters, animals, and happy faces interwoven between buildings. The pieces are carefully crafted, stroke after stroke, and the result is high-density landscapes with an explosion of color. Frantic as it might be at first glance, after close inspection, Messy Desk’s art is full of emotional stories, like treasures hidden in plain sight, waiting to be discovered. 

Alice Neel's long overdue retrospective, People Come First, is currently drawing hordes of visitors at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It’s no surprise, considering she based her entire life and career around the intimates and strangers that surrounded her. Every class, race, and gender came under her razor-sharp gaze.  And no human being encountering her subjects comes away unscathed. 

For those who can’t make it to the “City of Brotherly Love,” Laurel Garber, the Park Family Assistant Curator of Prints and Drawings, has assembled an online collection of Gág’s drawings on sandpaper—a gritty and sparkling medium that suits her objects.  These were inspired by a move from New York City to rural New Jersey where she purchased her beloved farmhouse, Tumble Timbers.  It is the exterior of this home that first assails the viewer’s eye.