The New Resistance: Studying the Rise of Independent Art Groups and Collectives

by Christopher Fernald

How does the manner in which art practitioners pursue their creative endeavors—in the very practical application and execution of their grand ideas support or refute traditional understandings of rebellion and independence? How is independence possible when we imagine the playing field in the Euro-American art world has folded in on itself, hierarchies have toppled, and an unprecedented number of voices, perspectives, and methodologies with varying points of access to and involvement in modes of power constantly compete, cross-fertilize, and merge together?  Most importantly, can our imagination of resistance accommodate a power system that celebrates and commodifies rebellion?

The answer, I’d argue, is yes. I crafted a survey to get a better sense of how artists working independently in the New York City region experience the art world and its discourses of community, independence, and rebellion.  My findings are specific to the workings of the New York art world and its actors, though I imagine a similar understanding of the operations within art worlds in other major first world metropolitan centers may be gleaned in certain instances.  I’ve concluded that effective resistance requires a new understanding of how power operates and a reimaging of what the point of intersection between it and powers of resistance actually looks like.

The rhetoric of independence and rebellion within the realm of art is hardly new—the legacy of imaging the artist as rebel colors the history of art, from Bernini’s Ecstasy of St. Theresa to Duchamp’s Fountain.  This representation has cycled through mass media manipulations and artists’ own self-representation in some form or another and to greatly varying extents since.  On the one hand, it’s a constant in the formation of artist identity throughout European and American modernity, the perfect companion to the new kid on the early 20th century’s block—originality.  On the other hand, the use of the vocabulary of independence and rebellion in today’s art topography is very different from its use in earlier forms.

What arguably have changed are the relations to which the idea of rebellion refers. . The relationship between the independent artist and the institutional art world in previous eras predicated itself upon a certain idea of power/resistance dynamic that may very well no longer exist, rendering our historically counter-cultural (i.e. calling for violence, protest, abstinence, and alternative models) understandings of this rhetoric no longer suitable signifiers of independent art operations today.

Equally important in our discussion is our ability to chart the extent to which practicing artists are capable of imagining themselves as independent producers within and without different art systems. he plurality of opinions in the art world makes operating in a purely independent—or oppositional—state often challenging. With so many people engaged in the art experience and so many different agendas at play, finding a universally upheld bloc against which to position oneself, while simultaneously fighting against the quicksand of relativity, can prove to be a great burden.

Nevertheless, the game has changed.  A great variety of different phenomena have taken hold of our world that make visible a different operation of power both within and outside of the art sphere—and along with it a new manner of working for and against it.  Identifying oneself as “independent,” creating a willful categorical distinction between oneself and the influence or practices of another entity, simply means something different today and the artists who engage most progressively with the hierarchies and power structures that exist within the American and European art world do so within a new imagination of power reflective of the wide and varied nature of today’s artistic milieu.

Declarations of Dependence

I suppose it’s important to first define what the common denominators of independence have generally been considered to be. How should we quantify independence or rebellion in the independent artist/curator/designer/collective? Does independence mean an active work practice outside of commercial galleries and museums?  And why do we make this distinction at all?

First we must understand that the hundreds of artists and art collectives in the New York metropolitan area differ not only in the philosophies dictating their structural formation and the manner in which they pursue their chosen art projects, but that they also vary in the degree to which they are engaged in independent practice. Independent artists, as all artists do, define themselves both as in support of something or someone and, perhaps more importantly, as against something as well.  In other words, the creation or simple identification of an “other,” a construct that represents a quality either opposite or oppositional to the ideas the artist stands for, is crucial to self-identification in this fashion.   Independent artists may establish difference not only between themselves and the ideas of their fellow artists but also the popular ideologies that the art society at large holds or expects an artist to share— just as, say, pop and minimalist artists used the abstract expressionist artists (a grouping of debatable artistic unity) as an institutionalized standard against which they could define their practices.

These are the kinds of artists we expect to engage in grassroots fundraising efforts for their work, invest time and money in local New York cultural initiatives, and have a certain disdain for the corporate backing of mainstream artists and gallery initiatives.  However, there is often a large gulf between this definition in its absolute, pure state and as it is actually practiced in the northern art world and its economies today.


As Patrick Meagher, cofounder of New York-based independent art collective Silvershed, helped me to understand one morning, there’s little overt resistance among artists to the power structures of the established art economies—that is, those systems of art commerce and production functioning within mainstream gallery, corporate, and museum spaces.  The rise of not-for-profit art houses, artist-run galleries, and independent art collectives like Silvershed is predicated less upon a resistance to participating in what is often perceived as the exclusive, hierarchical art mainstream and the limits to universal ideals like the artistic progress it engenders. Rather, this trend reflects a hope that an artist or designer may create his or her own economic opportunities without a binding blue-chip gallery contract or corporate backing.  However, some DIY subversion is still in the mix, at least when it comes to exhibition.  Many art groups have founded artist-run exhibition venues, not only in spaces like the late Pocket Utopia in Bushwick or Honey Space in Chelsea but all over the country from Locust Projects in Miami to Swimming Pool Project Space in Chicago.  Jay Henderson, co-founder of the New York-based art group HKJB, put it simply: “artists and art world people [are] getting sick of institutions dictating the terms that art is received on.”[1]

Nevertheless, most artists aren’t completely opposed to participation in mainstream systems of production and exhibition in the future. As Britton Bertran, co-curator of Artists Run Chicago (an exhibition of work produced in the city’s artist-run spaces) suggests, the rise of alternative spaces reflects a shaky economic climate—a climate that demands commercial galleries display work that is like “merchandise that can be bought off the wall.”.[2] In an artist-run space, not only is economic opportunity more viable, but there is also a conviction that the ideas the art produced will retain its ideological and aesthetic significance.

The practice of self-definition plays an important role in generating new dialogues, but many art groups actively work to counter the fault lines that artists of differing practices create between the art worlds that call New York home.  Take Silvershed again as an example, a loose-knit group of artists connected by a common interest in synthesizing art conversations across disciplines and networks—not only in New York but in the global art community.  In September 2010, Silvershed, along with art groups HKJB and The Metric System, organized ABCyz, which in 2010 developed into Collective Show New York,  an exhibition of work from twenty-six different contemporary art collectives with this goal in mind.  Though many of the collectives describe themselves as independent agents, this terminology takes on a much more nuanced meaning when we examine the overarching aspiration of the show to craft art world connections and redefine difference between cultural producers.  The collectives exhibiting in the show embrace and critique art dialogues regardless of origin and their involvement in the show engenders new interdisciplinary conversations—a practice that both reflects and advances a new Euro-American art world paradigm with lower barriers to art world entry and greater access to other artists’ practices: “an interconnected system that valorizes contingent relations, flexibility, and cooperation over singularity.”[3]

The New Power

As I mentioned before, our traditional notions of what constitutes rebellion and self-assertion (or new ways of moving forward in our conversations about art, generally) are no longer quality signifiers of independence.  Modes of oppression have changed, and so too must our understanding of them.  None of this is to say that the countercultural forces of the 60s, the groups that followed their rebellion into violence or extreme asceticism, hit it on the head.  They were working with a conception of a different sort of power.  What we are working with is new, operating within different modes of oppression and resistance.

The book Empire, by Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri offers one way to resist forces of oppression both within art worlds and in the greater political/social/economic/cultural magnet.  The authors contend that power in the postmodern era has morphed into a strange, amoebic entity that is capable of subsuming rebellion when rebellion employs the vocabulary of the dominant forces or works within its structure.  All forms of rebellion are therefore capable of being identified with this other, and thus rebellion has no place from which to act.  Further disabling substantial resistance is the fact that power today does not operate by exploiting concrete resources; rather, “the object of exploitation and domination tend not to be specific productive activities but the universal capacity to produce, that is, abstract social activity and its comprehensive power.”[4] The authors do, however, present a solution, broad in its reach and expansive in its ambition—the sort of proposal you would very much find in line with the idealism of the 60s, a proposal that is downright countercultural (i.e. calling for violence, protest, abstinence, and alternative models).  The authors suggest that these antagonistic forces of capitalism and globalization “must be met with a counter-globalization, Empire with a counter-Empire,” an alternative society in which the ruling means of production and universalisms reject the postmodern instruments of power—hybridization and mutation.[5] Where active subversion was the form of rebellion favored in the past, Hardt and Negri explain that desertion might be one of the more appropriate options in dealing with an all-encompassing power in the world of global capital: simply removing oneself from the machine, allowing one’s absence to produce an ache in the system, and forming an entirely new matrix rejecting these cogs of oppression.  Independence, in accordance with the ideas outlined in Empire, signifies operation in an entirely new, alternative universe, what the authors refer to as “one big union,” adopting radically new means of production.  Interestingly enough, Empire’s solutions fall within range of the ideas of alternative rebellion proposed during the 1960s, though the authors explain a different sort of power structure from the one in place for much of the 20th century.

While Hardt and Negri’s solutions deal in the realm of global economic systems, their description of an unlimited world of global exchange in some ways extends neatly into the world of art.  The commerce of the art world has similarly expanded in what appear to be limitless ways.  Each year it “uncovers” artists from across the globe, molding creative producers from countries historically excluded from the fold of the Euro-American art market—China one year, Peru the next—into hot market commodities.  (Auction records from July 2007 to July 2008 compiled by, served as the basis for a list detailing the artists who generated the most revenue at auction that year.  Of the top twenty earners that year, eleven were Chinese.)[6] However, while Hardt and Negri’s description of power in global finance certainly draws parallels to the art world, the utility of their argument for constructing alternative market systems or flat out desertion is somewhat limited if we hope to identify opportunities for artistic resistance.

So if power is all-consuming, is there a possibility of more plausible resistance? When MoMA’s 1984 exhibition “An International Survey of Recent Painting and Sculpture” included only 13 women artists out of 169 artists shown, the newly formed anonymous art activists Guerilla Girls responded with a DIY postering effort that plastered the streets of SoHo with the condemning statistic.  Twenty years later, the museum that formed the center of the group’s criticism has purchased and displayed this work on its own walls.[7] If alternative models of criticism—in this instance, the alternative model of DIY production—can be purchased and sold by its targets, is an alternative model of production, as called for by Hardt and Negri, a viable option?  More importantly, if we live in a world where institutions celebrate resistance by exhibiting the work of their critics, is meaningful resistance even possible?

I contend that resistance is possible, still. But in order to rebel effectively we must compromise our traditional understanding of resistance and its result. Theorist Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing calls this new intersection, “friction,” in a book of the same name.

In her discourse, Tsing presents an entirely different explanation for how oppressive forces in narratives of capitalism, globalization, and imperialism operate, an argument I’ve also extended into the realm of art. While she doesn’t necessarily disagree with the notion that power in the postmodern era appears to be all encompassing, Tsing makes the important distinction that this perception exists only because there is no real separation between us and those powers we perceive to be antagonistic to our interests as artists.  Following this line of logic, Hardt and Negri’s reasoning then takes on new meaning.  According to Tsing, resistance, as we traditionally understand it, is impossible—but not for the reasons that underlie Hardt and Negri’s argument.

Tsing reframes the notion of power at a different scale than the universalist metaphysics of Empire.  Instead, she brings our attention to the fact that while there are ideas of universal progress, oppression, and truth at play in the choices that we make, these ideas cannot gain meaning—or become oppressive—until the moment people use them to gain traction in specific circumstances.  This is to say that while universal ambitions underlie much of our work, we cannot fail to recognize that art is made for particular targets —specific people, galleries, and other traders of commodity.

We can see now that in this understanding of power dynamics, not only is power leached from power itself, but our comprehension of “independence” is also compromised.

If there is no machine to rebel against, is separation a fruitful goal?  It is indeed possible to work separately and resist certain forces, but it becomes apparent that if disagreement is to be had with certain universals, then one must be pointed in one’s criticism.  It is the specific, subjective, and above all quotidian applications of these ideas—and not the universals that underlie them—that make an art hierarchy possible, from the exclusion of certain voices from the global art dialogue—as the Guerilla Girls work to highlight—to the sheer subjectivity and personal taste that influence entry to positions of cultural power.  If institutional critique is the project at hand, we must target the circumstances of universal application instead of generalized ideology.  For Tsing:

As soon as we let go of the universal as a self-fulfilling abstract truth, we must become embroiled in specific situations. And thus it is necessary to begin again, and again, in the middle of things.[8]

It is only the circumstance at hand that makes certain ideas oppressive, showing us that power cannot be understood outside its specific application.  Independence cannot mean working within the system, because there is no system. As Paola Antonelli, chief curator for architecture and design at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, explained to author Elizabeth Currid, Paola comes across designers and artists for projects “all the time, not just at a party but walking down the street.”[9] Independence, then, is simply achieved through understanding that the cracks in the facades of art hierarchies reveal a boardroom, a nightclub, a one-night stand—any casual encounter or accidental meeting of two forces that results in a decision influenced by equally personal and banal circumstances.

The playing field has leveled, and hierarchies within the northern art world have become compromised.  As Cecilia Alemani, an independent curator and art critic based in New York and Milan notes:

“In general one could…say that the whole opposition—center versus margin or underground versus mainstream—has dramatically changed in the last few years…the role of the Tate and of a small not-for-profit space in Beijing is in the end almost equal.”[10]

The Bruce Truce

We can find a model of art-making that comprehends the tenuous boundaries between oppressor and oppressed—that is, one that actively critiques mainstay institutions of art and culture but does not predicate its philosophy on a work practice outside of these systems—in the Bruce High Quality Foundation, a group that has seen immense success in recent years with, as Roberta Smith of the New York Times describes, their “sharp, well-aimed, and unusually entertaining form of institutional critique.” In what might once have appeared to be a contradictory path, the collective has showed in several major exhibitions including PS 1 MoMA’s “Greater New York”,  “Dreamlands” at Paris’s Centre Pompidou, and the 2010 Whitney Biennial.[11]

The Bruce High Quality Foundation is, in and of itself, a sort of performative art act.  The group’s fictionalized origins and choice in name offer a careful critique of the prescribed trajectory of an artist’s career.  In a talk held at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, the “Bruces” liken the standard career ideal to that of Andy Warhol:  the artist appears on the scene—or, as the enduring romantic imaginings of the artist’s path contend, they are plucked out of obscurity by an agent of the art world, which is to say that they are “born”—they experience a career, and for some, a mechanism of legacy maintenance forms to preserve the artist’s everlasting contributions long after they have passed.  It is the space within this last state that the Foundation seeks to occupy, branding themselves as the arbiters of a fictional late social sculptor’s estate, effectively weaving themselves into the power structure they seek to subvert.  In this effort BHQF brings a false legitimacy to its work, laying claim to the long and prosperous career that engenders value in the art world.[12] For its proponents, this act lays bare the arbitrary determinants of value in art systems of the global north, essentially “undoing” oppression without proposing or participating in a completely different model of art production and value-making.  The rebellion appears subtle and pointed, an act of exposure rather than erasure.

The founding principle behind the Bruce High Quality Foundation—a simultaneous critique of and involvement in institutions of art—illustrate what effective rebellion could mean today, exposing and seeming to grasp fully the power dynamics of our era.  Rather than seeking to develop an alternative model or universal in the manner of Hardt and Negri, BHQF employs the vocabulary of the museum—or the high profile career artist, or the collector, for that matter—to infiltrate the system they seek to resist and present it for what it is: that there is no truth to high art; that art production, exhibition, and exchange is simply an amalgamation of interests and not the dictates of a universal will.

In an interview appearing in the March 2009 issue of Art in America magazine (‘Enter the Afterlife: A Conversation with the Bruce High Quality Foundation’) writer Cameron Shaw asks of the Bruces:

CS: Though few knew you by name at the time, you garnered media attention in 2005 when you pursued Robert Smithson’s Floating Island in a motorboat with a miniature replica of one of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Gates. How do you relate the early interventions and performances with what you do now? Not to oversimplify, but you went from chasing Smithson in a dinghy to showing in Chelsea. When you’re inside the machine, how do you continue to affect it?

BHQF: We’ve never been about setting up a purely alternative model. We’re not about simply eschewing the art world; we care about the art world and want to have a presence and a voice without being bound to the art world. We want to be there but still have the energy to do our own thing here, to maintain this space-our space-to have shows here, music, art, theatre. We’re more interested in maintaining a presence in parallel contexts than in committing to either alternative or enfranchised ones.[13]


The Bruce High Quality Foundation presents a model in which a group of artists have managed to bridge the gap between power and resistance in a new way, one that, pulls from both old, historical power structures and reappropriates them to fit the new contemporary, entropic, unclear dichotomy of power. So how does this practice of engaging hierarchies of power on their own terms impact how we understand the working of the art world in major first world metropolitan centers? The difficulty in discussing these transformations of the art world, and the manner in which this world both reflects and ignores changing power structures, is that this conversation lends itself quite readily to generalizations and the oversight of the most essential constitution of this community: the simultaneous existence of hundreds and thousands of worlds that crystallize and prosper in the greater New York metropolitan area alone, a multiplicity of contrasting and complementary, competing and collaborative idea generators giving the modern first world city’s art scene its enduring character.

Everyone has a different idea of themselves in relation to operations of power, not only because of the multitude of ways of understanding power available to us, but because those oppressive powers are perceived and identified differently by each artist.  But understanding the art world as having many points of entry, seeing it, as Patrick Meagher tells it—as a range of many mountains rather than a single, colossal mountain, generates the possibility of a more productive and expansive art information exchange.  It is, after all, this terrain of multiple mountains that make the proliferation of art collectives feasible, and the goal of the Collective Show possible to imagine and realize.

The art world is not one voice—a given.  But it is often an imagination that we work towards universal ideals and are oppressed by universal forces.  While there are many different conceptions of universal oppression, perhaps the only oppression that is experienced equally by each artist, regardless of context, is the one we construct in ourselves.   With this knowledge we challenge our understanding of where we stand in relation to power as well as the roles we play in constructing perceptions and experiences of oppression and resistance.

As artists we each have a certain way of viewing the world, and it is through our art that we argue it.  It is perhaps through an art-practice that examines the limits of our understanding—through self-imposed restraints and otherwise—that we may search to arrive at a more timely and truthful perception of power relations within and outside of ourselves in what has become an endlessly mutable landscape.

Christopher Fernald currently studies at the Rhode Island School of Design.

[1] Emily Warner, Making Space, New York Foundation for the Arts,


[3] Moderator (Jun. 17, 2010). Defining “Independent” [Msg 1]. Message posted to

[4] Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000), 209.

[5] Hardt and Negri, 207.

[6] Encylcopedia of Irish and World Art, Top 20 Contemporary Visual Artists,

[7] Ashton Cooper, “Guerilla Girls speak on social justice, radical art” Columbia Spectator, Sept. 22, 2010 (

[8] Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, Friction: An Ethnography of Global Connection (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005), 1-2.

[9] Elizabeth Currid, The Warhol Economy: How Fashion, Art, and Music Drive New York City (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2007), 84.

[10]Norberto Roldan, (Jun. 30, 2010). Defining “Independent” [Msg 2]. Message posted to

[11] Roberta Smith, “Artists Without Mortarboards,” New York Times, Sept. 9, 2009 (

[12] Tuesday Evenings at the Modern, “The Bruce High Quality Foundation,” September 21, 2010:

[13] Cameron Shaw, “Enter the Afterlife: A Conversation with the Bruce High Quality Foundation,” Art in America, March 23, 2009 (–1/).

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Happy 2015 from Collective Show

Dear Friends,

We hope you had an incredible 2014 and you’re looking forward to 2015! We are excited to announce that Collective Show is now a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization, which means your donations are now fully tax-deductible. As before, 100% of your donations go directly towards organizing Collective Show’s “group shows of groups shows” around the world. With your help, since 2009, we have organized exhibitions in New York, Los Angeles and Mexico City featuring over 130 contemporary art collectives made up of over 1100 individual artists.

Please consider making a donation and sending the following link to your friends and patrons before year-end: Donate Now! Even a $20 donation will help tremendously in mounting our next shows.

For 2015, we are making plans for Collective Show Tokyo and for Collective Show Detroit! We are also continuing our advocacy efforts for artist collectives, including by adding more coverage of collectives on social media and on our website. Please send us recommendations, updates and articles about collectives doing awesome things! And if you’d like to help with our 2015 shows, please drop us a line!

Wishing you all the best for 2015!

The Collective Show Team

Collective Show Mexico City 2014 – April 4-6


Collective Show Mexico City 2014 is less than 2 weeks away!
Follow us on Facebook and Instagram for the latest about the show, our collaborators, participating artists and more.

DATES April 4-6, 2014

La77 + Alumnos47 + Beka&Jobb +  Bikini Wax + Bliss Crew+ BoyfriendGirlfriend + Casa Maauad +  Camel Collective + Crater Invertido + Colectivo Luz y Fuerza Cine Expandido + Ediciones Conquista +  Diagrama + Eyelevel BQE + Gatosaurio + Haven Press + Las Hermanas Iglesias + HKJB + Libros Caballos + Lodos Contemporáneo + Neter + Planta Baja + Radiador + Silvershed + Soloway Gallery + SOMOSMEXAS  + Taller La Trampa + TLC +++ COLABORACIONES + Diagrama + La77 + Lodos Contemporáneo +  Museo Universitario del Chopo +++

Diagrama, La77, Lodos Contemporáneo, Museo Universitario del Chopo

CO-ORGANIZED BY Casa Maauad, Luz y Fuerza Cine Expandido

SPEARHEADED BY Eyelevel BQE, Silvershed

Click here for more info.

Hope to see you there!

This Sunday, 4/21 – Closing Reception for Collective Show Mexico City

Acompañenos este Domingo 21 para la clausura de Collective Show Mx de 12pm-6pm en Neter.

Please join us this Sunday, 4/21 at Neter for the closing reception of Collective Show Mexico City.

12:00pm – 2:30pm
(link para registrarse al taller/ link to register for the workshop)

2:30pm – 3:00pm

3:00pm – 4:00pm

4:30pm – 5:00pm

Closing Reception: Sunday, April 21, 12pm-6pm
Neter Proyectos, Calle 6, no. 11, Colonia San Pedro de los Pinos, México D.F.

Collective Show Mexico City – Photos from Opening Night!

Thank you to everyone who participated in the third Collective Show!

30 collectives, roughly 10 each from NYC, Mexico City and from all around Mexico, came together to produce a multifaceted show – with an additional archive of many years of work, from hundreds of artists working collectively.

The Opening Reception on Friday, April 12th was a brilliant success, bringing together hundreds of artists, supporters and sponsors alike in the one-of-a-kind Neter space.

A special thanks to Bruxo MezcalDos EquisHelado OscuroSociété Perrier and Patrona Cantina for the fun and spirited evening.

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Collective Show Mexico City – Just 2 Weeks Away!


Neter Calle 6, no. 11, Colonia San Pedro de los Pinos, México D.F.

RECEPTION Friday, April 12, 6-9pm
EXHIBITION April 10-21, 12-6pm
ARTIST TALK Friday, April 12, 6-7pm

Alumnos47 + Antena Estudio + Beka&Jobb + Bikini Wax + Blue Mango Mocqueca + BoyfriendGirlfriend + Camel Collective + Ediciones Conquista + Ediciones Hungría + ERRR-Magazine + Espacio Planta Baja + Eyelevel BQE + FURTHERMORE + Gowanus Studio + Haven Press + HKJB + JAPANTHER + Luck You Collective + MAMA + Neter + Our Goods + Perros Negros / Pazmaker + Pioneer Works / The Intercourse + Progress Report + Sector Reforma + Silvershed + Soloway Gallery + + Truequeando / Trade School Mx + Ugly Duckling Presse+++

COLLABORATORS Alternative Histories + Ricardo Casas Design

SPECIAL THANKS Patrona Cantina + Mezcal Bruxo

Reports from Sunday Evening at Hôtel Americano

On a recent Sunday evening, Collective Show artists, patrons and other friends came together on the rooftop of Hôtel Americano to support the upcoming Collective Show exhibition in Mexico City.

In case you missed the event, you still have a chance to peruse the artworks that were featured in the evening’s silent auction.  Visit to view and bid on the works through April 10th. A portion of all sales will go towards the production of Collective Show Mexico City 2013, which opens April 10-21 at Neter.

This Sunday Evening: Benefit for Collective Show Mexico City at Hôtel Americano

Please join us this Sunday for a fundraiser to benefit the production of Collective Show Mexico City, an artist-organized exhibition of contemporary art groups recently established in New York and Mexico, opening in Mexico City in April 2013.

Select works will be featured in a silent auction.

Hôtel Americano
Sunday, March 24th, from 7pm-10pm
$15 suggested donation at the door

La Piscine Rooftop Pool & Bar
518 W27th Street, New York, NY 10001

Collective Show Launches Exhibition in Mexico City


New York, NY – March 22, 2013 – Collective Show is pleased to present “Collective Show Mexico City,” an artist-organized exhibition of contemporary art groups recently established in New York and Mexico. This collaboratively curated “group show of group shows” features active artist-run spaces and projects formed in the past decade, showing side by side at Neter art space in Mexico City.

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Collective Show Mexico City Opens in April 2013

COLLECTIVE SHOW Mexico City 2013
Collective Show Mexico City opens April 10-21, 2013 at Neter.

Find out more here >