As a budding artist eager to hone his craft, Miguel Arzabe traversed various art exhibitions across the United States, immersing himself in the diverse styles and perspectives of fellow creators. However, it was the exhibit catalogs that ignited his imagination the most. Captivated by these archival documents, he chose to transform the catalogs into his own artistic medium, crafting a unique piece that paid homage to the very essence of art.
Arzabe meticulously sliced the pages into narrow strips and skillfully wove them into an expansive, intricate Andean tapestry named Last Weaving. This evocative title reflects the intention behind the artwork, symbolizing permanence and the creation of a lasting legacy through the delicate process of weaving, ultimately finished in 2018.
Miguel Arzabe’s Last Weaving (2018) was made with paper strips from art show catalogues. Photograph: Courtesy of the artist and Johansson Projects, San Francisco
“These are all materials we recognize, but the artists have alchemized them,” noted curator Larry Ossei-Mensah, highlighting the ways in which the featured works encourage viewers to critically engage with themes of consumerism and sustainability, unveiling the transformative power of art in revitalizing discarded objects.
Ossei-Mensah collaborated closely with Alison Gass, the museum’s director, for several months to orchestrate an exhibition that showcases innovative artistry born from everyday refuse, employing items such as used toothpaste caps, zip ties, broken computer keys, and perfume spray tubes. Initially slated to take place at a museum established in 2022 within a former school gym located in the rapidly evolving Dogpatch neighborhood, the exhibition miraculously shifted to a new venue just weeks before opening. The museum was unexpectedly granted a new location in a downtown building in San Francisco, reportedly free of charge.
The highly anticipated exhibition will now find its home amid the historical vaults of the Cube, a former bank and a renowned San Francisco landmark, which had remained vacant as the city’s tech workers increasingly adapted to remote work. In this context, the display of found objects takes on deeper significance, presented within a found space that mirrors their origins.
Neapolitan (2023) by Anthony Akinbola is made with durags. Photograph: Nik Massey/Courtesy of the artist and Night Gallery, Los Angeles Hugo McCloud’s Retirement (2020) was made by fusing together strips of used plastic bags the artist collected on his travels around the world. Photograph: Jason Wyche/Courtesy of Debbie and Andy Rachleff and Sean Kelly Gallery, New York/Los Angeles
“We want to help viewers navigate the world through artistic practice,” Gass explained on a recent Tuesday while the artwork was being uncrated. A striking large abstract painting, stretching across two canvases, transitioned from vibrant pinks to profound reds. Upon closer examination, it revealed itself as a detailed composition crafted solely from durags, meticulously stitched together by artist Anthony Akinbola.
Collectively, these artworks challenge notions of desirability, amplify the significance of waste collectors, and illuminate the increasingly global dynamics of waste supply chains.
For instance, among the standout pieces is a nearly life-sized portrayal of a woman donning a pink coat, bending under the weight of a heavy load on her back. This striking image forms part of a larger series by the Los Angeles-based artist Hugo McCloud, who captures the reality of waste pickers and porters from diverse global contexts. During a trip to Mumbai, McCloud observed the pervasive use of plastic sacks—serving various functional roles from transporting construction materials to providing roofing solutions. This insight propelled him to collect these sacks, alongside single-use plastic bags from his journeys across Morocco, the Philippines, Thailand, India, and beyond. He carefully organized them by color in his studio, where he cut them into strips and utilized a clothing iron to fuse them onto canvas, achieving a painted effect.
Much of the plastic waste in the US and Europe is shipped to Asia, where waste pickers like those McCloud portrays collect plastic to resell. “I am concerned with social inequality and through my art I want to show what we ignore,” McCloud says. “I am trying to use my work to open up these conversations, create a manageable way for viewers to swallow truth.”
Arzabe, meanwhile, explains that his work was initially a response to the frenetic tech boom in the Bay Area. “So much money was going towards creating newer and more complex technology,” he recalls. “I wanted to show that complexity and value could be created through humble materials.”
