Out of Time: Curation, Myth, and Deep History in BEFORE TIME
At Lichtundfire Gallery, New York, August 5 - 21, 2026
By Laura Horne

BEFORE TIME, Installation View, from left to right, Krystyna Borkowska, Don Muchow, Clare Burson, and Liz Jaff
The transition from an initial concept to a fully realized exhibition for me is always a study in restraint and discovery. When Priska Juschka (Director of Lichtundfire) and I first began planning for BEFORE TIME, a show that would evoke the planet’s ancient dawn, deep history, forgotten rituals, and primordial ecosystems. One of the questions that I asked myself was, "how am I going to honor the vastness of the past while giving the exhibition a clear, unified voice… "
One of my first thoughts was the title and I liked the deliberate double meaning in the phrase “out of time” could this potentially replace BEFORE TIME? Because “out of time” on one hand refers to things situated outside our standard human timeline: deep geology, extinct flora, submerged civilizations, and ancient cosmologies which tracks. Then on the other hand, it carries the quiet, ticking urgency of our modern moment: the sense that we are running out of time on a fragile planet. But then after reviewing the submissions with these two ideas in tandem I realized that they are two very opposite distinctions visually. And I came to the understanding that the works could either anchor themselves in the ancient past or speak directly to the present/future. To do both was very difficult visually.
I am still reading Carlo Rovelli’s The Order of Time and Rovelli highlights Aristotle’s ancient assertion that “time is fundamentally the measurement of change. Without change, time remains imperceptible.” This philosophical insight helped as I selected works for the show. I began thinking about time not merely as a fixed date on a historical timeline, but as a dynamic process recorded directly in the physical artwork: What did these raw materials look like before the artist intervened? How will this object erode, petrify, or shift in the future? In this way, the artist's creative process itself becomes an act of measuring time, capturing matter mid-transformation.
This led me to myth, I kept returning to how artists throughout history have visualized the spiritual transformation of human existence. Myth is not only a collection of ancient stories; it is also a mechanism for making sense of time, bridging the invisible, elemental forces of the cosmos with our lived physical reality.I was looking at work by artists like Joseph Beuys, Nancy Holt, and Hilma af Klint, each offered a distinct framework for how art translates the scale of time and spiritual evolution into physical form.
Time was alchemical for Beuys, and transformational. He approached his art through a shamanic lens, treating raw organic materials like fat, felt, copper, and beeswax not just as physical mediums, but as reservoirs of spiritual energy. His work is constantly undergoing metamorphosis, shifting between states of insulation, decay, and rebirth. I wanted this alchemical process to resonate in BEFORE TIME. Many of the selected artists used process-driven assemblage and raw earth minerals to suggest that matter itself holds memory, carrying the residue of human and pre-human cycles.

Image left: Jamie Mirabella Image right: Sarah Valeri

Image left: Sharon Kyle Image right: Taylor Bielecki
I was also thinking about Nancy Holt and how she turned her gaze outward to cosmic and geological time. Holt’s work shows how human existence is inextricably linked to celestial rhythms. By aligning her monumental sculptures with solstices and constellations, she reframed time not as a linear march toward an end, but as a circular, recurring ritual. In BEFORE TIME, I wanted a cosmic perspective grounded in our exploration of astrology, ancient science, and earth-based practices. Reminding us that our ancient ancestors navigated their place on Earth by looking to the stars.
Underpinning both the elemental and the celestial is the spiritual work of Hilma af Klint. Long before her contemporaries, af Klint channeled sacred geometry, botanical life cycles, and esoteric mythologies to visualize the very origin of life. I tried to pick artists for this show that had signs of that same primordial spark: works that transcended literal depiction capturing the mythic genesis of existence, translating the weight of origin into color, texture, and form.
What surprised me most during the selection process was the visual atmosphere that emerged across our selected artists: Taylor Bielecki, Krystyna Borkowska, Clare Burson, Stephen Cimini, Ryan DaWalt, Cathy Diamond, Cora Jane Glasser, Harley Grieco, Steven Harris, Noel Hennelly, Liz Jaff, Patti Jordan, Catherine Kirkpatrick, Julia Kohane, Sharon Kyle, Renee Magnanti, Amber Maida, Jamie Mirabella, Tony Moore, Don Muchow, Suzanne Nicholas, Jessica Nissen, William Pangburn, Kristin Reed, Janet Rutkowski, Francesca Schwartz, Vincent Serbin, Kayo Shido, Gabriel J. Shuldiner, Justin Orvis Steimer, Sarah Valeri, Leonie Weber, Roxanne Wolanczyk, and Harold Wortsman.
In my mind’s eye, I had initially pictured the primordial world as something intense, primal, and vivid, with raw earth pigments and jewel-toned flora. Yet, as the exhibition came together, a striking aesthetic shifted into focus: the show naturally leaned toward neutrality in color. Instead of hyper-saturated landscapes, there were more works in bone whites, ash, deep charcoal, muted ochres, raw stone, and weathered textures. There was a slight divergence in personal taste regarding color between Priska and I, but ultimately, this organic neutrality felt strangely correct. Suggesting that "before time" wasn't loud or synthetic, but quiet, elemental, and stripped down to its barest components, sediment, mineral, and shadow.
Before time, time was measured through the planet's elemental rhythms: the track of the Sun, Moon, and Stars, the resonance of natural Sound, the turn of the Seasons, and the quiet inevitability of Entropy. In BEFORE TIME I wanted these ancient metrics to be relevant. The solar alignment and sacred geometry in Kristin Reed’s luminous compositions, alongside the shadow-casting, monolithic presence of Tony Moore’s sculptures, show how early civilizations read the heavens to map their existence. Sarah Valeri’s drawing translates intangible acoustic energy into a visual, tactile reality. Her mark-making captures the cadence, flutter, and sustained resonance of sound as it travels over time. Cathy Diamond’s and Noel Hennelly’s work reflect the recurring, seasonal breath of growth and soil rebirth. These organic cycles are balanced by the raw, physical weight of entropy in the oxidized metals and weathered assemblages of Janet Rutkowski and Gabriel J. Shuldiner, where time is recorded directly through physical erosion and decay.
That being said, navigating the fine line between the beginning of time and the end of it was challenging. I made a conscious effort to not let apocalyptic themes seep into the narrative. When looking at works that explore desolate landscapes, decaying matter, or raw industrial remnants, sometimes it was difficult to decide whether a piece belonged to a prehistoric dawn or a post-apocalyptic aftermath. I felt strongly about steering the show away from the end of the world. I didn't want a show about doom; I wanted a show about genesis, endurance, and origin.
BEFORE TIME ultimately became a dialogue between what Priska and I imagined and what the artwork demanded. By embracing the tension between a vivid past and a neutral palette, grounding our metrics in the sun, sound, seasons, and entropy, and keeping our eyes trained on the beginning rather than the end, the show stands as a collective excavation, a quiet, powerful space that is outside of time itself.

BEFORE TIME, Installation View, sculpture in foreground by Leonie Weber
