The Armory Show NYC 2026 Pt. 1: Three Artists Who Stopped Me in My Tracks
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Deb with Tracey Emin painting. Tracey Emin presented by Galleria Lorcan O’Neill Roma at The Armory Show, New York, 2026.
There is something very different about experiencing art at an art fair.
A few years ago, I attended my first major international art fair, Art Basel Paris. I had no idea what to expect or even really how these enormous fairs worked. This time, walking into The Armory Show in New York, I felt much more comfortable.
I bought myself a one-day pass, gave myself about five hours, and decided to move through the show mindfully and gently—stopping when something genuinely caught my attention rather than trying to see everything.
The Armory Show is an annual New York art fair devoted to modern and contemporary art, bringing together galleries and artists from around the world. The 2026 edition ran September 24–27 at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in Manhattan. The fair itself dates to 1994, when it was founded at the Gramercy Park Hotel. Its name pays homage to New York's legendary 1913 International Exhibition of Modern Art, commonly known as the Armory Show, which introduced many American audiences to European modernism.
And then there is the Javits Center itself. The glass-and-steel building, originally designed by I. M. Pei & Partners, feels like an artwork in its own right. After spending hours inside the fair, I found a Starbucks, sat in the enormous glass atrium, put my feet up and began writing these notes while everything I'd just seen was still fresh in my mind.
What struck me most that day wasn't simply what I liked, but what those choices seemed to tell me about myself as an artist.
Again and again, I found myself pulled toward minimalism, abstraction and simplicity—but also toward artists doing something technically unexpected. I wanted to know: How did they make that? Why did they choose that material? How did they arrive there?
I think what we're drawn to informs us. It inspires us and teaches us, but it can also tell us something about what matters to us creatively.
With that in mind, these are three of the artists who stopped me in my tracks.
Tracey Emin
Of all the original works I encountered at The Armory Show, seeing Tracey Emin's paintings in person was probably the most exciting for me.
I'd watched a beautiful Sotheby's interview with Emin several years ago and was struck by her vulnerability, authenticity and the extraordinary trajectory of her career. Her work has always felt intensely personal to me—the kind of work in which the artist doesn't seem to be hiding behind the art.
Born in 1963, Emin is a British artist whose practice encompasses painting, drawing, sculpture and numerous other media. Her work was presented by Galleria Lorcan O'Neill Roma at The Armory Show. The works weren’t individually titled on the gallery label, so I’ve left those details out.
Seeing the large-scale figure painting in person was as captivating as I'd hoped it would be.
There is such freedom in Emin's figures. I love the abstraction within them, the looseness of the marks and her restrained use of colour. There is something about seeing that freedom at this scale that simply can't be replicated on a screen.
And perhaps that's part of what I respond to so strongly in her work: it feels vulnerable without feeling tentative.
I also admire Emin for something that goes beyond her own studio practice. Through the Tracey Emin Foundation, she has established TKE Studios and the Tracey Emin Artist Residency in Margate, creating opportunities and space for other artists to develop their work. For me, using the success of an extraordinary career to help support other creators is deeply meaningful.
It was a real treat to stand in front of this enormous painting—and then to move closer and spend time with the smaller works nearby.
Karl Haendel
Sometimes an artwork pulls me in before I know anything about the artist.
That happened with Karl Haendel.
From a distance, what caught me was the simplicity: a large-scale black-and-white work composed largely of text. But once I began reading it, I stayed.
The work was Four Days Ago I Cried, created in 2026 by Haendel, a New York-born artist who lives and works in Los Angeles. He was presented at The Armory Show by Vielmetter Los Angeles. The work is made with wax pencil on enamel on paper and measures 54¼ × 44⅞ inches including its frame.
The writing was what really pulled me in.
It moved through what felt to me like the contradictions of being human: feeling good and then feeling bad; being in your zone and then out of it; confidence followed by doubt; connection followed by disconnection.
I just stood there and read.
I've always loved words and text incorporated into art. When they're used well, words become something visual as much as literary, and this piece felt beautifully pared down. The black and white, the simplicity of its presentation and the candidness of the language allowed the words themselves to hold the space.
After reading it, I moved farther into the gallery presentation to see more of Haendel's work.
Another work, headed Hierarchy of Needs, particularly caught my attention from the perspective of being an artist. Other pieces continued that sense of directness and simplicity that had initially drawn me into his work.
There was something very relatable about the entire group.
Simple. Candid. Deep.
And beautifully executed.
Alexandria Tarver
And then there was red.
I spotted Alexandria Tarver's enormous floral painting and it immediately grabbed my attention.
The painting is overwhelmingly red—red against red, with shifts in tone and perhaps orange moving through it. For me, that makes the palette particularly challenging. Creating enough variation, depth and visual interest within such a narrow colour range is not an easy thing to do.
And Tarver made it work beautifully.
What I especially appreciated—when I moved in for a closer look—was the texture. It's present without overwhelming the painting. From farther away you experience the flowers and colour; closer in, you begin to experience the surface itself.
Tarver's flower paintings also have a personal history. A gallery account traces the beginning of this body of work to 2013, when her father received a terminal cancer diagnosis. Her work at The Armory Show was presented by Nino Mier Gallery.
This is also the kind of painting I probably would never make myself. I generally don't paint subjects like flowers.
But would I hang it in my home?
Absolutely.
I could imagine this in a hallway where you'd encounter that extraordinary field of red every time you walked past. I thought it was beautiful and masterfully executed.
And perhaps that's another reason I love looking at other artists' work: admiration doesn't require wanting to make the work yourself.
Sometimes you simply want to live with it.
What I Took Away From The Armory Show
Sitting in the Javits Center atrium afterward and thinking about what I'd seen, I kept returning to the same observation.
I was drawn to simplicity.
But not necessarily simple ideas.
I loved the freedom and vulnerability I found in Tracey Emin's figures. I loved how Karl Haendel reduced an intensely human experience to words and black and white. And I loved how Alexandria Tarver took what could be a traditional subject—flowers—and made colour itself part of what stopped me.
I also noticed how much I'm attracted to artists who make me curious. Work that makes me want to get closer. Work that makes me wonder about process. Work that shows me something I haven't considered doing myself.
As an artist, I think there is tremendous value in paying attention to that instinct.
What stops you?
What makes you cross the aisle for another look?
What makes you lean closer?
Because sometimes what we're drawn to in somebody else's work quietly tells us something about where we might want to go in our own.
And there were three more artists at The Armory Show who made me do exactly that—this time through extraordinary materials and processes.
I'll share those in Part Two.
