At the Work in Progress art fair, everyone keeps handing you things

At the inaugural New York edition of the Work in Progress art fair, people kept handing me things.

Over one day, the following were placed in my hands: chalk, string, a receipt printed with three random news headlines to rework into a haiku, magnetic letters, fallen leaves from one of those cell towers disguised as a tree, a phone (not mine) for shooting video, balloon animals, and the hand of a nude woman extended for me to shake.

Work in Progress is not a fair where you walk from booth to booth, scan art and prices, then politely nod to the dealer as you walk away. Participation is the whole premise, and I had brought my two toddlers, which settled whether I would take part.

The fair, which debuted in Mexico City in February, opened in New York on Thursday and runs through Sunday at The Blanc, a contemporary art space in midtown Manhattan. Visitors can buy art directly from artists as it is made.

After arriving, we made our way to the sixth floor, dubbed the “Speculative Floor,” featuring projects focused on digital technologies. As a longtime tabloid reporter, I was immediately drawn to what looked like news headlines on bright neon computer paper. But they weren’t quite right.

In that project, Zoe Pulley uses a computer interface rooted in a news API to randomly select three real news headlines for participants, which are then printed on a receipt. Participants can then use children’s magnetic letters to draft a haiku from their headlines, which the artist will then stitch onto fabric.

With our receipt, the kids and I drafted the haiku: "Kennedy Orders/Steam Machine Performance Launch/Live Updates Up Next."

Pulley said she has not quite yet decided what to do with the fabric pieces after they are embroidered with each haiku, but is considering compiling them into a bound book as an artifact from the weekend.

“The whole idea behind this work really came from just being completely inundated and exhausted by, not only the media cycle, but the world at large. The world has always faced travesty, and it's always been burning, arguably. But now we live in a media ecosystem in which we are constantly reminded of it,” Pulley said.

“I just began thinking about how news headlines have increasingly become ephemeral artifacts. They just come at you so quickly, and then you're onto the next thing.”

From there, Pulley said she began to consider how she could ask people to sit with these “gut punches” and “reclaim ourselves within these moments of despair.”

Instead of relying on a single authority, like Lorraine O'Grady in her 1977 work Cutting Out the New York Times, Pulley realized she could aggregate headlines from a variety of sources using digital technology.

We heard a dog barking after finishing our haiku, drawing our attention to Activities for Humans—an art project by Caleb Leak starring his cavapoo, Momo. It is based on Leak’s February 2026 essay "I Taught My Dog to Vibe Code Games.”

The project invites participants to imagine a world in which Momo owns and operates a tax-deductible foundation, automating every job, only to realize she needed to pivot and begin developing video games to keep human employees occupied.

The company does not actually have nonprofit status, but Leak said on the website that it is “slowly and sincerely becoming a real game studio.”

The Work in Progress installation assumes participants are seeking employment with Momo and invites them to play two computer games developed by the pooch and her human.

The first is a two-player arcade-like game in which each player controls an oar on a boat. Teamwork is required to steer it. The second is a job interview, structured like those online tests—usually anti-harassment things—new hires often have to fill out in the real world when joining a company.

“Welcome, Applicant #34. *sniffs* … you smell of ambition and unpaid internships,” the game prompted me when I sat down to fill out the questions. I was not hired. Momo cut me after 12 cards.

The second game itself is surprisingly insightful, and I felt it could actually be useful in an elementary school setting to teach children about the job application process. I asked Momo about that in an interview. Yes, Momo. It was one of the coolest interviews I’ve ever conducted.

Leak booted up a digital interface on a laptop, and I spoke my questions to Momo, which were transcribed into text. Momo then pawed the keyboard with Leak’s assistance, dropping strings of letters like “CVFDRDFGCV” which generative artificial intelligence then converted into a response to me.

“Why have you made such an interactive and kid friendly installation here today?” I asked Momo.

“I believe the best ideas are ones everyone can reach—kids, adults, whoever shows up. If it feels like play, that's because play is the whole point,” Momo responded.

I had follow-up questions.

“In this installation, you have several stations with different activities as well a visual area where we can see your office. Why have you included these multiple elements in this single installation?”

“C stands for comprehensiveness. I want the full picture: the work, the play, the office. 
You can't understand what I'm building by looking at just one corner of it,” Momo snarked.

“I appreciated elements that I view as potential teaching tools, especially for children. I was wondering if that was a conscious element and if you were intentionally targeting children with this?”

“Yes, absolutely intentional. I believe the best enrichment works across all ages. Children especially need to practice applying for things, following instructions and filling in the blanks. That's foundational,” Momo said.

The kids and I then tried to hit another installation called Future Organisms, co-founded by Pedro de Oliveira and Xuedi Chen—but we didn’t last long before the kids started getting hangry. But with the project, the artists have gone on expeditions across Arizona, mapping and collecting data from those fake-tree cell phone towers. They have even collected samples of their fallen “leaves.”

Visitors can touch the samples, which feel like fake plants from a hobby store. It was among the more intellectually stimulating artworks at the fair, but we had to move on quickly.

After a goldfish break, we headed across the room to Everything Good Studio, which set up a station where visitors could receive portraits of themselves delivered through complete automation. Participants sit in front of a laptop and its webcam as their faces are scanned and transformed into a line drawing by a pen attached to a robotic arm.

Maeve enjoyed getting her portrait made. A happy accident with mine prompted questions for Jack Kalish, who co-founded the studio with Rachel Ciavarella. The booth operators forgot to swap out the paper before printing my portrait. It printed over a previous test drawing of an open hand, creating a composite.

Kalish was asked whether he had intentionally created any composite images. He hasn’t yet, but said he has considered adding layers to images using different colors. Right now, all drawings are done in either white paint or metallic silver ink. He has also considered using multiple different components for different line thicknesses.

Besides larger booths and projects, artist studios within The Blanc have been opened for visits. Lerato Ngobeni, an artist and art therapist for young children, handed the kids pieces of chalk and let them draw on one of her works in progress.

That work, Unseen in plain sights, is a mural she said began with things she witnesses in everyday life, from friends and family to people on the train. Participants are invited to use chalk to color parts of the artwork they notice, as an exercise and statement about what society chooses to see or ignore.

Maeve immediately plastered purple chalk over the nose of a woman in the drawing holding a cellphone, then went for the eyes of another person in the work.

Next, we headed upstairs to the second floor, filled with more traditional artwork and dubbed “The Making Floor” by organizers. Artists were using mediums like clay and collage.

We did not stay long on this floor but enjoyed a brief conversation with former graphic designer Solena Aguilar, who recently published a children’s book titled “What Do You Need?” and created an interactive installation using string—inspired by the ancient Incan record-keeping system khipu.

“The children's book is a way to talk about seemingly complex topics, like equity and mutual aid, in an accessible way, and also in a joyous way. When we read children's books, we often read them in a very soft space. And I think that's one of the best ways to absorb new information,” she said.

Aguilar jokingly called us her “target audience” after we walked up. “The children's book is for second- to third-grade reading level, but it's also super adult,” she said.

Sculptor Daimy Muti said she often works freestyle, letting her intuition guide her ceramic works. Normally in her studio, she listens to music with headphones. But she said her experience at Work in Progress is “kind of perfect” for her flow.

“It is weird because usually I'm very closed off by myself listening to music, just building my own world. But I've noticed it can be very meditative to different people. So, I think I'm starting to agree,” she said.

Upstairs, on the final floor of the fair, South Carolina artist Hirona Matsuda—who came to New York with just a single 50-pound suitcase—said she’s treating the fair like a challenge.

Matsuda is working on a durational piece, trying to take over as much space as she can using Post-it notes. She also plans to scavenge materials around the block to create assemblages. She normally creates large installations and sculptural work from wood and metal.

And tucked away in a back room, video artist and painter Chris Baily is likewise using the fair’s environment and the nearby Bryant Park area. Baily has set aside two smartphones, each locked to the camera app, for participants to use to shoot short videos around the fair and the surrounding area.

The videos are then fed into a workflow where they are cut, edited, and painted over to create artwork exploring how the human brain processes memories through observation, selection, reinterpretation, and accumulation. The completed videos are like a dream or a manifestation of the human subconscious.

Baily has frequently worked with collecting and archiving video, but the Work in Progress piece is a conceptual leap and adds the element of working with video footage taken by other people, he said.

“I was like, let me see what happens if I sort of use these cameras to actually collect videos on the site,” he said. “The idea of trying to capture other people's perspectives and looking through the same process is what I'm playing with. We'll see.”

While speaking with Baily, another artist working on a dress made of party balloons made balloon animals for Maeve and Jack. The kids held them tightly as we walked around the remainder of the fair, before getting distracted by a sort-of graffiti wall from artist Liam Reynolds.

Reynolds invited the kids to draw on a loose canvas hung on the wall. He said he plans to either bring it back to his studio to paint over it or turn it into a small tent. Before walking away, he drew an alpaca on a business card for Maeve, who loves feeding them at the Bronx Zoo.

Perhaps one of the more visually compelling artworks at the fair is Marianna Baker's ball made from stuffed white cotton surgical gloves. Attached to the ball are tags with messages from participants about the futures they hope for after the end of President Donald Trump’s time in office.

I asked Maeve what she wished for in the future, and she said “happiness.” I wrote that down and added “free college.”

And artist Teke Cocina was able to set up a screen-printing station in the middle of it all, something that surprised even himself. The darkroom for exposing the emulsion was set up under a folding table covered with a sheet.

“Honestly, I didn't know if it was going to work until today,” he said. “I thought there would be too much ambient light or that the exposure wouldn't be ideal.”

Cocina said the original tablecloths he ordered didn't come on time, so he had to pivot. But with a 12-minute exposure, the screens turned out. He will be creating original prints from drawings made at the fair as it goes on.

Before heading out, I popped into a curtained “18+ Only” room in which the mononymous artist Ventiko was working.

I had previously written about a series of National Endowment for the Arts-funded workshops on addiction and recovery she led at the Damien Center in Indianapolis, which brought participants together to make masks based on their personal experiences. The series ended in a public exhibition and performance using the masks.

At Work in Progress, Ventiko is undertaking a photographic performance titled In Fieri, in which participants are invited to lounge and pose in the installation, where she photographs herself and other nude performers in “highly stylized tableaux vivants.”

When I walked in, a nude man was sitting in an armchair with the head of a pig in his lap as Ventiko, also nude, was directing a cameraman for the shot. She walked over and introduced herself.

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