According to Anthony Elms, the Whitney Biennial occupies a unique space, neither fully comprehensive nor narrowly focused: too extensive for a concise thesis yet not broad enough to capture the full spectrum of the U.S. art scene. Elms, who curated a section in 2014, notes that previous editions like 2024’s ‘Even Better Than the Real Thing’ and 2022’s ‘Quiet as It’s Kept’ were theme-driven. However, the current exhibition, curated by Drew Sawyer and Marcela Guerrero, returns to a more traditional method of gauging the art world’s pulse.
Upon its preview, critics have repeatedly labeled this year’s show as ‘Weird,’ a fitting term in today’s context. The world feels surreal with developments in AI, looming environmental threats, and geopolitical tensions. While the artworks themselves are often beautiful and clever, they do not necessarily embody this weirdness.
The biennial features 56 artists and collectives, with Guerrero and Sawyer intentionally including voices from regions historically impacted by U.S. military actions, such as Afghanistan, Iraq, and the Philippines. This approach offers a lens on America’s interventionist history, providing context in light of recent global events.
Though lacking a strong overarching thesis, the exhibition maintains a clear curatorial coherence. Concepts like relationality and infrastructure are prevalent, subtly guiding the presentation without overshadowing the art. The sixth floor, which explores infrastructure, opens with Michelle Lopez’s ‘Pandemonium’ (2025), a compelling piece that sets the tone for this thematic exploration.
Art as infrastructure is a recurring motif, with works like Anna Tsouhlarakis’s reimagining of the ‘End of the Trail’ and Kamrooz Aram’s critique of Western modernism. These pieces challenge and reconsider conventional art narratives, adding depth to the exhibition’s thematic undercurrents.
On the fifth floor, relationality is further examined through exhibits such as Andrea Fraser’s family-themed installation and Young Joon Kwak’s ‘Divine Dance of Soft Revolt,’ showcasing the interconnectedness of personal bonds. The exhibition also includes reflections on non-human relationships, like Emilie Louise Gossiaux’s tribute to their guide dog, highlighting our ties to the natural world.
In contrast, a select few works truly embody the ‘weird,’ such as Isabelle Frances McGuire’s ‘Satan in America’ series and Nile Harris’s provocative ‘Dark Brown Birkin Bag.’ Despite the political undertones of every piece, the exhibition’s approach is more art-focused rather than directly addressing political issues, which might not satisfy those seeking explicit solutions to today’s crises.
Ultimately, the Whitney Biennial 2026 is a well-installed exhibition, with thoughtful curation and clear labeling. It mirrors the complexity of our current era—filled with beauty and joy amidst ongoing challenges—encouraging visitors to navigate forward despite uncertainties.
