Years ago, I recall crossing paths with Yura Adams at a lively Art Omi gathering on a warm summer afternoon in July. She appeared to hover amidst other more clunky humans, a graceful Tinkerbell kind of presence. Fast forward to a chilly January on Tinker Street in Woodstock, where I had the joy of encountering Adams’ glowing energy through “Marvel’s Cabinet”, a solo exhibition of her mixed media artworks at the Woodstock Artists Association & Museum, on view through March 8. (Full disclosure: I was the juror for this show.) Walking into Adams’ lush world is pure discovery, and she sweeps us into her ethereal realm with excited exhilaration. The work is both abstract and futuristic, and her sense of adventure infuses each piece with a raw verve that bounces from one playful creation to the next.
In Adams’ cabinet, exploration is foremost. Where one corner of a painting provides repose, the area right next to it vibrates with a frenzy of color. These works take time to experience in their fullness, and in that regard The Wind, Pond, Mountains and the Sky (2026) is a short story full of twists and turns. In this painting, an industrial gray shape laced with baby blue appears to unfold its muscular body against a cobalt backdrop, as if a windy vibration has rustled through natural environs. Hovering nearby is Moths Fading From Public Eye (2024), five oversized pink petal-like shapes that float weightlessly and whimsically. With The Dutchess Stump (2025), we encounter another wild configuration that to my eye houses the purported “marvel” character at the center of the show, an omnipresent figure described in the press release as “part muse, part trickster.” Within this dense scene accented with brown hues, there is indeed a creature dwelling at the center of the work, buried within the overgrown chaos yet emerging simultaneously.
Other works take us into yet other dimensions, and Nesting Box Transition (2024) does so with its blue and green interstellar blow-out, a rugged and delicate scene. The monumental masterpiece of this show is Forest Walker (big boy) (2025), consisting of two white plumpish shapes that rise from a geometric lattice while nestled within a greenish-brown skin, an altogether sensational vision. This sumptuous work anchors the room with its verdant mystical power and is reminiscent of Hilma af Klint’s splendid painterly representations of spiritual potentialities.
There are several smaller mixed-media sculptures that tease out a bug-and-butterfly theme, and Mayfly (2025) consisting of ceramic, wire, silk, fabric, foam, and plaster atop a graphically painted pedestal looks like a happy insect and a mechanical mutant gave birth to this sweet and silly thing. Save This Moth (2024) wall sculpture made of rice paper vibrates its fluttering wings, while a series of smaller works including Bad Butterfly (2024) and Could Be a Sound (2024) further upon the notion of the moth-butterfly as everlasting belle.
As I wandered through “Marvel’s Cabinet,” a certain existential feeling arose as a counterpoint to the mischievous fun, and a single buzzkill question surfaced in my head: What about the nothingness lurking behind all this? I am sure most of us face this gut-punch query as a quotidian reality-check, and this is precisely why artists continue to save our souls from the pandemonium of ordinary living. Yura Adams’ organically grounded and cosmically interpolated world of marvels is utter enchantment and a domain of boundless wonder, where she boldly tinkers with Abstract Expressionism and an esoteric edge that ignites her work with its alluring beauty. Get to WAAM, throw yourself in, Adams will lift you higher still.
