When I learned about Light Years, Judy Pfaff’s debut exhibition at Cristin Tierney Gallery, I thought about what makes her work stand out to me. Pfaff, whose last solo show at a New York gallery was in 2019, has always assembled her sculptures out of diverse materials, from the store-bought and found to the fabricated. In Light Years, we encounter plastic flowers and fruit, a birds’ and a wasps’ nest, recycled plastic carpets, polyurethane foam, steel tubing, and LED and neon light.
Pfaff’s bricolage approach combines surgical precision with Surrealist chance, as exemplified by Comte de Lautréamont’s famous statement, “As beautiful as the chance encounter of a sewing machine and an umbrella on an operating table.” The difference is that no matter what Pfaff juxtaposes, none of it seems arbitrary. It is as if her materials magically dictate how they should come together.
Pfaff’s mastery of radically different scales and diverse materials is a rare achievement. Of the 13 works in Light Years, the largest, “finite sequence of mathematically rigorous instructions” (2025), is more than 8 feet high, 40 feet in length, and 14 inches deep, while “Purple” (2025), one of a group of small works, measures 19 by 26 by 11 inches. Pfaff’s attunement to heterogeneous objects and materials suggests that she has no agenda; after exhibiting for more than 50 years, she has never settled into a signature style and continues to remain open to different, unexpected possibilities.
