In Praise of Small Things We All See

Various Artists
In Praise of the small things we all see
Hosted at e.s.r.
Organized by Fool’s Gold
June 2 - 12, 2026

Installation view of In Praise of Small Things We All See

With works by (A-Z) — Abrahm Guthrie, Adrienne Economos-Miller, Alison Klieman, Amy O’Brien, Basha Harris, Ben Grzenia, Brit Krohmer, Brooke Kanther, CL Young, Diana Chu, Emily Duke, Faythe Levine, Gosha Anachev, Jason Dunda, Jon Sadler, Jonas Sebura, Julia Lazarski, Karl LeClair, Kate Klingbeil, Kelsey Kaufman, Kirsten Furlong, Lisa Stone, Nomka Enkhee, Petra Ahnert, Rae Friedman, Ruby Stigers, Sarah Hotchkiss, Vincent Zager, and William D. Lewis

Donner Party pillows, extractive paintings turned table coverings, stinging nettle folklore terrariums, onion flowers, double-sided photographs, fishing lures...What emerges from the mash-up of these artists and their practices is a throughline: the people. In Praise of Small Things We All See gathers artists across time and geographies, many of whom have never met, but all of whom have shaped Studio Night, a weekly gathering of artists that has, in one form or another, connected people inside the studio for over a decade.

Responding to an invitation to occupy the final two weeks at the artist-run space e.s.r. in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, artists Rachel Reichert and Alex Gartelmann gathered those who have helped build the hallowed ground of Studio Night, making public for the first time what has long remained intimate. Tapping into a long lineage of artist salons, bars, clubs, and informal gatherings, Studio Night is a space of exchange, camaraderie, and care, a thread connecting artists across time and place.

For Reichert, Studio Night began in Boise, Idaho, in the studio of artist William D. Lewis, and has since found new form inside her Milwaukee studio. Now co-hosted with Gartelmann, the gathering unfolds each Tuesday night. The studio stretches just a little further each week, becoming a space for plotting, dreaming, eating, and drinking together. Anchored by a single large table, it offers an alternative to the formal, commercial, and institutional structures of the art world, opening—if only briefly—into a space for sharing process and practice at all stages.

The stakes of Studio Night are intentionally low. If one Tuesday is missed, another will come. Some artists attend faithfully; others pass through only once. What matters is not consistency of presence, but the continuity of the space being held. Food and drink are central to this rhythm. From William D. Lewis’ weekly cocktails to the wine and amaro circulating through Reichert’s studio, the table remains in motion. Most bring something to share: tinned fish, homemade bread, cookies, pesto, fruit, vegetables, hummus, bottles of wine, experimental kombucha.

In Praise of Small Things We All See brings together, for the first time, these artists as a constellation. Artists were invited to consider the table as both site and subject, working within its scale, with some creating multiples that consider individual place settings. At the same time, they were encouraged to break these parameters entirely, following the logic of their own practices. What emerges is not a fixed or singular vision, but a network of responses.

In the same way we celebrate each artist’s point of view, we also celebrate the ways we nourish ourselves through snacks, drinks, and the texts that have shaped our practices over time. On a shelf inside the gallery sits an artist library organized alphabetically. Additionally, we share a few recipes by Jason Dunda and Karl LeClair. As Studio Night often unfolds like a long run-on sentence, we offer a collective sentence composed one contribution at a time by the artists in this exhibition and reproduced on the back of the exhibition publication and show poster. To complete Studio Night in the tradition of William D. Lewis, we close with a poem.

With this exhibition, we celebrate what can unfold through small, shared moments: acts of connection, generosity, and attention that accumulate over time. A supportive space. Here, meaning is not imposed from an outside voice, but instead emerges through the act of gathering itself. Artist to artist.