Dr. Margarita Lila Rosa Only Wants the Art World’s "Non-Commercial Realness"

Summary

'State of Art' is a new HypeArt series inviting artists, curators, collectors and other leading voices to weigh in on the ideas, debates and cultural shifts shaping contemporary art. Through intimate questions and personal recommendations, the series offers a closer look at what is exciting the art world, what needs to change and where things may be heading next.

Dr. Margarita Lila Rosa approaches contemporary art as both a historian and an active participant in the cultural conversations shaping it. Based in Harlem, the public scholar, independent curator and art critic specializes in Afro-Latinx, Latinx and Black Atlantic history, tracing the ways migration, memory, identity and diasporic experience continue to reverberate through contemporary art.

That perspective also makes Rosa less interested in simply following what the art world has deemed important. She looks for the works and exhibitions that linger emotionally, challenge familiar narratives or offer new ways of understanding the present. Sometimes that means finding surreal beauty in Bony Ramirez’s sculptural world, and other times it means wandering through the Venice Biennale with a dead phone and unexpectedly finding comfort in the recorded apologies of complete strangers.

For the latest installment of Hypeart’s State of Art, Rosa reflects on the art that has stayed with her in 2026, from Ramirez’s El Cielo Del Mar to the late Koyo Kouoh’s Venice Biennale. She talks about why the latter felt less like an exhibition than a “praise dance,” calls for more poetry and less noise in contemporary art and explains why she’s giving the art world an A+ despite the increasingly difficult world surrounding it.

What’s the one show from the first half of this year that you can’t stop thinking about?
Bony Ramirez’s “El Cielo Del Mar” still has a grip on me. It was an installation of large-scale sculptural works at the Historic Chapel of Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, curated by the incredible Anne-Laure Saives and scored by Elvin Tavarez. My mind is both puzzled and reassembled by Ramirez’s sculptural practice–his modular wooden pieces, often geometric or circular, are meant to mimic the simple wooden slabs that countryside houses are made of. I am absolutely in awe of his practice. While Ramirez is known for his beautiful portraits of stylized doe-eyed countryside people, he manages to create sculptural “portraits” from baby blue slabs of wood. There is a surrealism to Ramirez’s figurations that helps me digest how we are all a gorgeously-imperfect assemblage of parts.

Did any artwork actually make you feel something real this year, or has everything felt a little flat? If yes, what’s the artwork and tell us about your experience, first encounter with it.
It was my last day in Venice and I had gotten lost somewhere in the Arsenale, but I didn’t care. I was enjoying being lost–disconnected. My phone was completely dead by the time I heard the whispers of human voices buzzing in a cacophony of sounds. I opened the curtain and tumbled into a room of 52 hanging black prisms, each one a speaker that, when you held up to your ear, read out an apology message. “I am sorry I haven’t gotten back to you, I’ve been dealing with the weight of motherhood.” Taus Makhacheva “Dear R., R., K., S., M., A., C., S., K., I., G., L., A., A., L., P., G., E., J., D., M., C., B., O., F., F., R., D., M., E., L., I., F., L., A., M., T., K., K., L., P., F., V., A., L., L. (2018/2026).” I dizzily went from speaker to speaker, listening to every message. It was calming, almost regulating, to know that all humans were just as exhausted; that we were all dealing with the effects of war, of loss, of parenthood; that all us needed more alone time in a hyper-connected world. And there I was, alone, with my phone dead, listening to other people’s apologies, and that’s when I realized that I didn’t have to apologize for being here—lost and disconnected.

“In tomorrow’s art world, I want to see poetry. Poetry like Lindsay Adams poetry.”

What’s a show you have marked on your calendar for the rest of the year and why?
The Venice Biennale of 2026, curated by the late Koyo Kouoh, could very well be the very last art show there ever was, and I don’t think I would mind. I am not sure that any art show will ever grip me again like the walls of the Arsenale and Giardini. That’s because it wasn’t an art show–It was a praise dance. It was an offering, a best and final offering. Across Venice, I was enwrapped by both a deep sense of Black Internationalism and a deeply felt solidarity with South African and Palestinian artists. And I felt something–I felt something everywhere in my body. With what work did I feel it the most? Was it with BigChief’s beaded garments in the Giardini? Or was it Kennedy Yankyo’s massive sculpture hangings from the beams of the Giardini? Or was it Taus Makhacheva’s dizzying room of voice messages emptying out into the room from hanging phones? Or was it Rose Solane’s film Mercurial New York (2026)? I am not sure when I felt it most. It was all one thing. It was a praise dance.

If you had to give the 2026 art world a report card grade right now, what is it and why?
A+. We are all doing our best considering the rise of facism.

What’s one trend in the art scene you want to see go away and what’s one you want to see more of?
I think Damien Davis’ essay “Manufacturing “Black Fatigue” in the Art World,” published in Hyperallergic put an end to the unnecessary noise around Black art. So, tsuh! That’s out. In tomorrow’s art world, I want to see poetry. Poetry like Lindsay Adams poetry.

If you can sum up the art world right now in exactly three words what would they be?
Non-Commercial Realness.

If you could grab a drink or meal with any artist tonight (living or dead), who would it be and what’s the first thing you’re asking them?
I guess lots of people would say Basquiat. But I am gonna say Jean-Michel. He was Haitian and Puerto Rican, and he was pretty awkward and nerdy– I think we would get along. I guess I would ask him to paint a map of the world. I wonder what signs he would choose.