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Jessica Taylor Bellamy’s Captured Realities Are Never Fully What They Seem

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17.04.2026

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Jessica Taylor Bellamy’s Captured Realities Are Never Fully What They Seem

The artist's dense visual language melds personal memory, mass media and inherited histories to produce images that feel legible before slipping into instability.

Artist Jessica Taylor Bellamy builds her paintings the way cities accumulate meaning—in layers, through collision and contradiction. Mass-media fragments, bureaucratic documents and newspapers press up against personal mail, signatures, private letters and fingerprints, creating compositions as oversaturated and heterogeneous as urban life itself. Personal and collective narratives coexist without resolving, while the saturated gradients and color choices of these dense sociological landscapes locate us immediately in Los Angeles, the city where Bellamy lives. Oscillating between utopia and dystopia—both a surreal contemporary idyll and apocalyptic vision—the Los Angeles portrayed in these works is approached by Bellamy as both a setting and a conceptual framework. Her L.A. is a precarious paradise of multicultural sprawl and shifting ecological collapse, reflecting tensions humanity is grappling with more broadly.

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Interrogating the false promise of progress and exposing the instability beneath Southern California’s mythologies, Bellamy’s practice has long centered ecological collapse and climate anxiety, filtered through lived, hyper-local observation. In her soon-to-close exhibition, “Semblance,” at Anat Ebgi New York, the artist hits a more sentimental, domestic and intimate register. Where her previous works were largely informed by the sensory and symbolic density of Los Angeles—its visual cacophony and historical strata—this new body of work considers the tension between personal and collective frameworks, particularly as felt in a time of societal alienation and fragmentation, when all sense of history, identity and belonging seems to be under threat. Drawing more directly from family archives and memory for these new, seductive and destabilizing collages, Bellamy embarks on a deeper interrogation of her mixed heritage—Afro-Cuban and Ashkenazi Jewish—exploring notions of home and homeland, diasporic identity and the idea of landscape as both physical and psychological space to inhabit and read.

Speaking with Observer after the show’s opening, Bellamy pointed to two works, Forever and Just Missed You, as the anchors of the exhibition’s initial direction. The first depicts an envelope whose surface presents a variegated composition layering a delicate rose branch over a glowing, atmospheric landscape punctuated by power lines and silhouetted structures. The rose came from her garden, she explains—one she was trying to kill but which kept growing back, accidentally watered. Graphic marks and fragments of text interrupt the flow of the image plane, creating interwoven traces of hand-marking and screen-like overlays that converge without resolving. “I have always saved cards from people; it’s getting to be a bit of a problem. I love the security patterns in envelopes with sensitive documents,” Bellamy said, explaining how the text ‘don’t bend photo’ is in her grandmother’s handwriting and the Forever stamp carries her Havana-born father’s fingerprint, pulled from his resident alien card. “Rose keeps growing, handwriting remains, and fingerprint is forever,” she wrote in poetic........

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