Art on Paper
I went to Art on Paper in September, my first big art fair since having the baby, and it felt quietly exciting. After months of having my focus elsewhere, it was refreshing to be surrounded by art again. I had never been to this fair before, but I was curious because it focuses on paper as a medium. It promised to be more tactile, more about process, and less about the scene, and it was.
Held at Pier 36 during Armory Week, Art on Paper sits somewhere between intimate and expansive. The fair brings together galleries from around the world to explore what artists can do with a single material. People were talking about technique and texture, not just names or prices. Paper was not treated as fragile. It was sculptural, experimental, and strong.
Was the show really all about paper? Technically yes, but the artists stretched that idea in every direction. Some works were cut, stitched, or collaged, while others were built into reliefs and installations that blurred the line between surface and structure. It was not about subject matter, it was about medium. That focus gave the fair a sense of clarity and depth, a kind of material curiosity that felt rare in a city full of image-driven fairs.
A few works stood out. Andrea Bergen’s Fun Between Buns at Cindy Lisica Gallery, a pair of monkeys sharing a cheeseburger, was funny, strange, and obsessively precise. Rebecca Messier’s stitched abstractions at Fringe Gallery felt quieter but just as intricate, thread running through the paper like breath. In the Projects section, Yuko Nishikawa’s Memory Tourist floated above visitors like a cloud of folded light, while Shanthi Chandrasekar’s Entropy: Macrostates & Microstates turned physics into pattern.
What struck me most was the mood. Viewers leaned in close, tracing details and whispering about materials. It reminded me of what art fairs used to feel like before they became more about social media than seeing. In recent years, many New York shows have turned into scenes that are loud, crowded, and easy to scroll past. Art on Paper felt like the opposite: slower, humbler, and more attentive.
Maybe that’s why it stayed with me. After some time away, I’ve found myself drawn to work that feels patient and intentional. Paper is such a simple material, but in the right hands it holds a quiet kind of complexity. The fair felt like a nice reset, a reminder that smaller, slower work still has its place.
Some glimpses from Art on Paper below.
