Curator Coady Brown Moves Mountains in an Exclusive Interview with FAWC

The Fine Arts Work Center’s 2025 Summer Exhibition, To Move a Mountain, is now on view in the Hudson D. Walker Gallery through August 22, 2025. Curated by celebrated painter and two-time Visual Arts Fellow Coady Brown, the group exhibition brings together nine past fellows across painting, sculpture, photography, and drawing. Brown recently sat down with Communications Manager Daisy St Sauveur for an in-depth conversation about the show, her connection to FAWC, and what it means to be an artist navigating a world in flux. To learn more about the exhibition, visit our gallery page.
Daisy St Sauveur: “Let’s start with your piece in To Move a Mountain. What was on your mind while making it- not as a curator, but as an artist?”
Coady Brown: “The painting I included is part of a larger series called the Bouquet series. I number them sequentially, and I think the one in the show is number fifteen. I started this body of work because I wanted a shift from my typical figurative, narrative work—paintings that often feel easily interpretable. With the Bouquet series, I was craving something more abstract, more concealed.
The first one began as a kind of dedication. I made it during the frenzy of preparing for a solo show in 2021, and it was my way of taking a moment—to stand still, to reflect, to make something for the work itself. Since then, the series has evolved into these private dedications: sometimes for people, places, or events—moments that are joyful or heavy. They’re personal gestures embedded within my larger practice.”
DS: “That’s beautiful—and emotional in a quiet way. How many have you made so far?”
CB: “I think around twenty over the past four years. And what’s interesting is that I usually paint them from observation, which is very different from how I normally work. That shift in process is helpful—it accesses a different part of my brain. With my figurative work, I’m juggling narratives, people, and meaning. These bouquet paintings are more meditative, less loaded, and that feels really freeing.”
DS: “I noticed the energy at the center of the bouquet in this one—it almost felt like it was radiating outward. Are you working with a recurring palette, or was that just for this piece?”
CB: “This one was specific. I wanted something that felt heavy, but looked light. That’s often how a painting starts for me—with a concept about color or mood. Maybe I’ll say to myself, I want to make a pink and green painting, or something really desaturated. For this one, I chose a kind of buttery pastel yellow for the background. It’s light and cheerful, but the vessel—maybe ceramic, maybe stone—grounds it with weight. That balance between lightness and solidity really interested me.
I’m always exploring dichotomies in painting. I love making opposing ideas work together—tension between clarity and obscurity, weight and levity. Dana Schutz once said, ‘The dumbest ideas can make the best paintings.’ And it’s true—sometimes it’s about giving yourself permission to follow a strange idea and see where it leads.”
DS: “That’s such a good quote. I love her work, too. I have to ask: do you arrange the bouquets yourself?”
CB: “I do! And I don’t get too upset when they die. These paintings don’t take very long—just a couple days. I’ve learned to let things go. It’s part of being an artist. You move on, you keep making. No preciousness.”

DS: “Great mindset to have! Now, let’s talk about the show. Where did the title ‘To Move a Mountain’ come from?”
CB: “The title speaks to a few things. At its core, I was thinking about the artist’s relationship to nature. The older I get, the more I see the world in cycles- especially now that I live in the country. I watch the landscape shift: the long stillness of winter, the first green buds, animals being born. It’s all become very present for me, both spiritually and intellectually.
My bouquet series was actually the first time I started engaging with natural subject matter in a direct way. Flowers wilt, seasons turn- there’s a built-in temporality that fascinates me. And I think being an artist often feels like this kind of impossible task. Trying to ‘move a mountain.’ That Sisyphean feeling of chipping away at something immense, of trying to make sense of complex, often unsolvable questions. My favorite artists are the ones constantly wrestling with that- pushing themselves, asking difficult questions. That effort, that persistence… that’s what the show is about. To me, that myth is such a powerful metaphor for what it means to be an artist. You’re never going to make the perfect painting. You’re never going to fully resolve the question of what love looks like—or any of those big, universal subjects artists wrestle with. But you keep pushing. It’s the pursuit that matters. It’s showing up in your studio every day, being part of a community, striving toward something, even if you never quite arrive. That’s the artist’s life. That’s what this exhibition tries to hold space for.
DS: To quote the legendary Ms. Cyrus, it really is all about the climb.
CB: Hahaha, exactly!
DS: “Tough question, but if someone only had a few minutes to see the show, and they had time to view just one work, what would you send them to?”
CB: “Oof, that’s hard. They’re all great, and so different! But I’d probably say Alina [Perez]’s piece. It features two mermaids in this intimate embrace with the ocean behind them and flowers and foliage creeping in from the sides. I love how she works with these fantastical elements. Mermaids obviously aren’t real—but it’s all in service of something deeper. The piece touches on transformation, self-identification, and the power of creating your own reality.
To me, it’s a great example of how art can build a world you can step into—something tender and otherworldly that still speaks directly to our own emotional reality. There’s a beautiful stillness in it, surrounded by so much quiet power. It’s a piece that really pulls you in.
DS: “You’re a rare two-time Fellow at the Fine Arts Work Center. What is it like to return to The Fine Arts Work Center as curator?”
CB: “It’s hard to express how special FAWC is to me. It feels like home. Walking around, everything feels familiar, like seeing an old friend and picking up right where you left off.
I work very solitarily in the studio. Honestly, I don’t even let my mom see photos of what I’m working on—so sometimes that isolation can make you feel a little disconnected. Curating is a way for me to reconnect, to reignite the lifeblood of community and conversation. Putting this show together, seeing everyone so excited to be a part of it… that meant everything. Especially now, when the world feels chaotic, it’s even more important to invest in spaces like this.
Many of the artists in this show are people I’ve met through residencies or even as early as my twenties. These kinds of communities have shaped my entire life. They’re what I believe in. No matter what else is going on, that effort of showing up for each other is something we can control. It’s evergreen.”
DS: “Do you have a favorite memory from your time as a Fellow that really changed your experience here?”
CB: “Oh, so many. I was here from 2018 to 2020, and with the pandemic, ended up staying almost 15 months. That’s a long stretch! We had some amazing parties, but honestly, it’s the quieter moments I remember most. Walking to the beach in the winter. That eerie, romantic solitude. And the ocean has always been such a creative force for me. It’s so tied to the moon, the tides… it feels deeply spiritual, and reminds me that things ebb and flow. That we’re part of something bigger.
That particular sense of smallness, of being part of a tight-knit community, is something I treasure. I moved to a small town after my time here, and I think there’s real value in those kinds of insular environments—places where people are open and generous and creative. It’s getting rarer, and I think we need that more than ever.”
DS: “You’ve said some amazing things today about chaos in art and nature—about the idea that their unpredictability offers a strange kind of peace.”
CB: “Yes. I really believe that. There’s something comforting in knowing we can’t control everything. Art-making, nature—they both operate on their own timelines. And in a world where so much feels out of our hands, tuning into that rhythm can offer real clarity. If you can move with it, instead of resisting it, there’s a kind of peace in that surrender.”
DS: “What’s next for you? Do you have any other exhibitions planned for this summer?”
CB: “Yes! I have a solo show opening in July at my gallery in Los Angeles named Nazarian Curcio. The show is called Suitor. I’m almost done with the work… almost! When I get home, it’s straight back to painting.”
DS: “Congratulations! That’s so exciting. Thank you so much for joining me here today. Do you have any final thoughts for guests visiting the exhibition this summer?”
CB: “I’d just encourage people to take their time. Even with the more abstract pieces, I think there are a lot of quiet connections through color, texture, and gesture. It’s not a huge show, so there’s space to breathe. And I hope people really give themselves that moment to pause, reflect, and see how the works speak to one another. There’s a lot to discover if you look closely.”
About the Curator
Coady Brown
Visual Arts Fellow 2018-2019, 2019-2020
Coady Brown’s figures inhabit tightly framed, intimate spaces in paintings that explore the vulnerability of our connections and relationships. Engaging in acts of self-presentation and self-preservation, they delicately juggle their public and private lives. Figures become reflections of their environments, mirroring these heightened, surreal, frenetic, sexy, and sorrowful states.
According to Brown, her figures are “specifically dressed. The emphasis on fashion is a celebratory declaration of the body… fashion becomes a site of freedom, a place to explore self-expression and presentation.” Figures tend to be androgynous, understanding gender fluidly and that femininity can be a site of both strength and extreme vulnerability. Caught in various states of harmony, anxiety, ecstasy, and anguish, figures navigate the world and uncertainty of the everyday, from intimate boundaries in bars and bedrooms to the unknown that awaits outdoors. It is a world fraught with the instability and paranoia of contemporary life.
Brown received her BFA from Tyler School of Art, Temple University in 2012 and her MFA from Yale University in 2016. She has exhibited both nationally and internationally at Stems Gallery, Brussels, BE; 1969 Gallery, New York, NY; Taymour Grahne, London, UK; Shulamit Nazarian, Los Angeles, CA; among others. Recent group exhibitions include Carlye Packer, Palm Springs, CA; Morgan Presents, New York, NY; The Fine Arts Work Center, Provincetown, MA; Shulamit Nazarian, Los Angeles, CA; Green Family Art Foundation, Dallas, TX; Carl Kostyal, Stockholm, SE; Monya Rowe, New York, NY; Kunstraum Potsdam, Berlin, DE; Taymour Grahne, London, UK; Richard Heller Gallery, Los Angeles, CA; Harper’s Book, East Hampton, NY; Stems Gallery, Brussels, BE; Koenig and Clinton, Brooklyn, NY; Angell Gallery, Toronto, CA; NAM Project, Milan, Italy; Yale University, New Haven, CT; Lyles and Kind, NY; among others.
She is the recipient of several fellowships and residencies including The Fine Arts Work Center, Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, Fountainhead, Vermont Studio Center, and the Yale Norfolk School of Art. Awards for her work include the Carol Schlosberg Memorial Prize for Excellence in Painting, the Richard Cramer Color Award in Painting, and the Gianni Caproni Art Prize in Painting. Her work has been written about in The New York Times, The Village Voice, and New American Painting. Brown’s works are included in public collections such as X Museum in Beijing, Columbus Museum of Art and ICA Miami.
About the Exhibition
Curatorial statement by Coady Brown
To Move A Mountain seeks to explore the contemporary artists’ relationship to nature, both symbolically and conceptually.
There is often an inherent romanticism in the depiction of nature. Flowers, with both literary meanings and symbolic representations, are often seen as stand-ins for love and courtship. Along with flowers, paintings of still lives historically depict food, particularly fruit as a representation of a memento mori, a reminder that we all will die, that what nourishes us now will also rot. These lemons, grapes, oranges, and apples, now contemporaneously evoke the farming industry, for today we exist in a world where there are thousands of varieties of apples alone. The grafting and crossbreeding of this fruit exist in a feverish capacity, illustrating humans’ insatiable appetite to intervene in nature’s order. Simultaneously, the division and acquisition of land has a long and dark history, laden with violence and destruction in the interests of colonialism and domination. The domestication of animals, plants, and other wild creatures inhabit our homes, bringing the outside world in, sometimes to a comical degree. Each artist in the exhibition takes an individual approach to this unwieldy topic, metabolizing their personal and cultural experiences and understandings to the development of their practice.
The work in To Move A Mountain covers a variety of territories. For example, using nature as a source of personal symbology, a case study for capitalism as seen through the suburbanization of neighborhoods, or as a site of fantasy and escapism, just to name a few. We live alongside nature, but now more than ever we are forced to watch how the repercussions of our actions and existence have thrown our biosphere off balance to the point of catastrophe. There is grief, nostalgia, humor and sorrow in this symbiosis. The artists in To Move A Mountain seek to investigate all of these avenues of our shared experiences of our delicate and fraught ecosystem.
Coady Brown
Visual Arts Fellow
2018-2019, 2019-2020