[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Offering, 2025] My phone is filled with pictures of me holding seasonal bouquets from my garden — a practice that has become a meditation, gift, and offering to my prayers. Central to the exhibition currently on view at @caseykaplangallery — “Offering” is a collective holding of our whispers. ••• Casteel’s hand clasps a heap of zinnias, dahlias, and amaranth in Offering (2025). In a self-referential portrait, the artist points to an abundant bouquet, hand-grown and in full bloom, revealing the acts of cultivation made in autumn that reverberate into spring. Serving as a sanctuary for Casteel, the garden–a site of growth and decay, of turning dirt into life–embodies a creative endurance in the ebb and flow of seasonal and cultural rhythms. To paraphrase Walker, the garden’s resilience of imaginative spirit endures societal, daily hardship. Growth is willed from nothingness. Inherited fertile ground cycles through generations, and gestures of strength, beauty and defiance that came before echo in tomorrow’s blooms. “Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on view through Jan 10th [Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens”]
[Phoenix Rising, oil on canvas, 78 x 60 inches, 2025] Nasturtiums have become a true love of mine in the garden. The varieties are abundant and their ability to bring in pollinators and capture predatory bugs make them the perfect companion to just about everything. Even when covered in aphids, they shine, showing me they are doing their protective job. I remember the day I saw this bunch seemingly rising from the ground in mass…. rising from the ashes…. On view at @caseykaplangallery through JANUARY 10
[Phoenix Rising, oil on canvas, 78 x 60 inches, 2025] Nasturtiums have become a true love of mine in the garden. The varieties are abundant and their ability to bring in pollinators and capture predatory bugs make them the perfect companion to just about everything. Even when covered in aphids, they shine, showing me they are doing their protective job. I remember the day I saw this bunch seemingly rising from the ground in mass…. rising from the ashes…. On view at @caseykaplangallery through JANUARY 10
[Phoenix Rising, oil on canvas, 78 x 60 inches, 2025] Nasturtiums have become a true love of mine in the garden. The varieties are abundant and their ability to bring in pollinators and capture predatory bugs make them the perfect companion to just about everything. Even when covered in aphids, they shine, showing me they are doing their protective job. I remember the day I saw this bunch seemingly rising from the ground in mass…. rising from the ashes…. On view at @caseykaplangallery through JANUARY 10
[Phoenix Rising, oil on canvas, 78 x 60 inches, 2025] Nasturtiums have become a true love of mine in the garden. The varieties are abundant and their ability to bring in pollinators and capture predatory bugs make them the perfect companion to just about everything. Even when covered in aphids, they shine, showing me they are doing their protective job. I remember the day I saw this bunch seemingly rising from the ground in mass…. rising from the ashes…. On view at @caseykaplangallery through JANUARY 10
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
I found home in Harlem as an AIR at @studiomuseum looking out of the window of my studio at the David Hammons flag facing 125th Street. It felt only fitting that the first thing I did when we got our home in the Hudson Valley was to mount a replica of the flag — as a marker of presence, value and home. The intersection of the painting at @caseykaplangallery and the drawing at @studiomuseum being in NYC on view at the same time — the titles of the works playing off of our AIR exhibition title in 2016 “Tenses”. Home expands and contracts but there are some things that always remain the same. [Present Tense | oil on canvas | 76 x 52 inches | 2025] — on view at @caseykaplangallery through January 10 [Present Tense | graphite on paper | 20 x 16 inches | 2025] — on view at @studiomuseum FROM THE STUDIO: FIFTY-EIGHT YEARS OF ARTISTS IN RESIDENCE, November 15, 2025–February 28, 2026
Please join us for a walkthrough conversation at @caseykaplangallery with Jordan Casteel and Elizabeth Alexander on the occasion of “Jordan Casteel: Covering the holes in our walls with sunflowers” on SATURDAY, DECEMBER 20, beginning at 1:00PM. Borrowing its title from Alice Walker’s 1974 essay “In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens,” recent portraits, landscapes and vignettes muse on the artist’s garden in the Hudson Valley as a reservoir for acts of resilience and vulnerability. Buds are transformed into bounties and personal reflection into a communal experience. The legacies of her cultivations are suspended in time as symbols of survival–of thriving. As Walker put it, “…whatever rocky soil she landed on, she turned into a garden.” RSVP ENCOURAGED VIA CASTEEL.EVENTBRITE.COM OR BY EMAILING [email protected] AS SPACE IS LIMITED. THIS EVENT IS STANDING ONLY. SEATS AVAILABLE UPON REQUEST.
