On the day of the reception, I’m there early. Seated on a crimson couch, I observe the staff bustle about, preparing for the opening. Outside the window, sunset beams hit the runners who stop to look inside, followed by visitors collecting pamphlets at the door. When exhibitions director and curator Douglas Breault told me that I could find almost anyone at Gallery 263, the truth of that statement became more apparent by the hour, reflecting his melting pot approach to curating this show.
With censorship on the rise and American politics limiting public expression, the artists in “Body Politics” offer an unapologetic response to their current reality. This exhibition is layered with overlapping, intersecting, and, at times, contrasting perspectives, creating space for rich and nuanced dialogue.
These works serve as intimate reflections of each artist’s ideas of bodily autonomy, exploring themes like reproductive rights, racial justice, gender expression, and self-care, among others. Yu Cheng’s two graphite drawings, titled Scrolling Phone (2023), capture the sensation of detachment or dissociation while doom scrolling, while Soulé Déesse’s shrine-like sculpture Limbrephantômes (2025) addresses the surveillance of the Black female body. One might argue that the various nuanced perspectives are anarchic, but there is a thread that connects and stimulates each of them.
Entering the gallery, I’m struck by the densely packed walls where the art lives, causing me to think about the placement of my own body as I walk around. I thought of bodily movement as I observed Maria Cazzato’s six-foot body portrait Coil (2024), its fluent brush strokes and transparent dripping paint mimicking body movement. Or Breslin Bell’s undercover (2022–2023) with the waiting room chairs, prompting me to think about how one’s body must feel patiently waiting in an abortion clinic. The wide-ranging mediums and concepts comprising “Body Politics” avoid a clear-cut answer, instead opting for a multi-perspective approach that arguably reflects the time we’re in now.
Soulé Déesse, Limbrephantômes, installation view, 2025. Wood, clay, copper, gold medallion, oil celluloid film, human afro hair, reclaimed human bodily fluids, antique bronze frames, linen, ash, handmade paper, egg tempera, ink, marble, and sequin fabric, 99 x 63 inches. Photo by Chris Diani. Courtesy of Gallery 263.
The idea for the exhibition was sparked when Breault noticed a recurring theme of the body and politics in the open call submissions. Already a point of interest in the wake of the presidential election, Breault felt now was an important time to reflect on the collective fears that local artists were wrestling with during this transitional phase of chaos and uncertainty. The use of language is something that struck me the most. Since the statement labels are written by the artists themselves, viewers are given a window directly into the core of the work.
The use of first-person labels offers a glimpse into each artist’s persona and thought process. Ranging from personal reflections to historical context and even poetry, their statements bring an unfiltered, sincere tone to the exhibition, perfectly suited to the intimacy of the gallery space.
“Body Politics” does not offer a simple solution, but rather examines the routes that contributed to the current zeitgeist. Its works serve as reflective responses to the current political and cultural climate, offering a tentative suggestion—that curating such a deeply nuanced show requires room for complexity and contradiction.
“Body Politics” was on view from March 20 to April 20, 2025, at Gallery 263, 263 Pearl Street, Cambridge.
