<img decoding="async" class="size-full-width wp-image-1599380" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/JMITCHELLDZ20SHOW2025_INSTALL_V3.jpg?quality=80&w=970" alt="A large abstract expressionist painting by Joan Mitchell displayed on a white gallery wall, filled with gestural strokes of red, brown, black, blue, and white, evoking a sense of explosive movement and emotional intensity.” width=”970″ height=”728″ data-caption=’Recently opened exhibitions highlight the work of women who redefined contemporary art. <span class=”media-credit”>Photo: Chase Barnes | Courtesy David Zwirner</span>’>
As the art world makes long-overdue progress toward gender parity, the market for women artists has been steadily rising, finding new acceleration in the post-pandemic years. In today’s more measured market, where collectors tend to gravitate toward artists with secure institutional standing, postwar women artists—whose work has only recently been rediscovered and fully appreciated—are now among the most sought after. They are commanding stable or rising prices at auction while gaining long-deserved recognition in major museum and gallery programs.
According to the 2025 Art Basel and UBS Report, the representation of women artists in galleries continues to grow, rising by one point to 41 percent in 2024. The strongest gains were seen in the primary market, where representation climbed from 42 percent in 2022 to 46 percent. The report also revealed a clear correlation between representation and financial performance: galleries with more than 50 percent women artists reported a 4 percent increase in sales, while those with less than 50 percent saw a 4 percent decline. This aligns with the latest Art Basel and UBS Survey of Global Collecting, which found that works by women artists now account for 44 percent of collectors’ holdings, up from 33 percent in 2018. The shift is partly driven by women, whose collections comprise, on average, 49 percent works by women, rising to 55 percent in the U.S. and 54 percent in Japan. Artnet’s latest data reflects a similar upward trend: among the 100 top-selling fine artists at auction in the first half of 2025, 13 were women—up from 10 during the same period last year.
This season, as MoMA opens its long-awaited Ruth Asawa retrospective (traveling from SFMOMA), New York’s leading galleries are dedicating their prime fall slots—timed with the marquee November auctions—to pioneering postwar women artists who are finally achieving the global visibility they’ve long deserved. Here are five shows not to miss, each offering a fresh and expansive lens on the women who contributed to redefining contemporary art through fearless experimentation, radical material invention and an unapologetically personal vision that went beyond all postwar trends.
Louise Bourgeois at Hauser & Wirth
<img decoding="async" class="wp-image-1599662 size-full-width" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/BOURG-inst-00b-hires.jpeg?quality=80&w=970" alt="A woman stands in a dimly lit gallery facing a sculptural installation composed of five large wooden spheres arranged before a tall, dark folding screen, creating a contemplative atmosphere of contrast between organic and architectural forms." width="970" height="728" data-caption='“Louise Bourgeois. Gathering Wool” is at Hauser & Wirth through January 24, 2026. <span class=”media-credit”>© The Easton Foundation/VAGA at ARS, NY Courtesy the Foundation and Hauser & Wirth Photo: Thomas Barratt</span>’>
Following the 2023 show focused on the 1970s in Joan Mitchell’s oeuvre, David Zwirner now turns its attention to an extensive group of works made between 1960 and 1965—a brief but critical juncture in the artist’s development. “To Define a Feeling: Joan Mitchell, 1960–1965,” on view at the gallery’s 20th Street location through December 13, offers a fresh perspective on this formative chapter, allowing a deeper appreciation of the delicate balance between emotional life and painterly experimentation that defined Mitchell’s approach to abstraction. “Works from this period are not widely known, having been shown in just a handful of exhibitions, making their presentation together significant for understanding Mitchell’s artistic evolution,” Sarah Roberts, senior director of curatorial affairs at the Joan Mitchell Foundation, told Observer.
This period marked a moment when Mitchell no longer had the steady rhythm of exhibitions that defined her career in the 1950s and 1970s. She had major solo shows in New York and Paris in the early ‘60s, but then there was a lull until 1965, when she exhibited again at Stable Gallery. The works on view come from these in-between years—when Mitchell, living in Paris, was free to experiment with full autonomy, painting without the pressure of the continuous cycle of shows that would later define her practice. It was a time of introspection and unfettered exploration, yet also one of personal loss and new awareness, when the studio became both a refuge and a laboratory.
The early 1960s works reflect her engagement with material concerns in Parisian painting at the time—thick layers, heavy impasto and bold gestures—but also a growing desire to push those materials toward something emotional, even bodily. One can feel that tension in the brushwork, as Roberts notes. More muted, earthy tones dominate the palette, often resulting in magmatic, dissonant conglomerations of pigment—as if Mitchell were fearlessly pushing color and matter to their limits, to the edge of collapse, where beauty verges on chaos. Throughout this period, she also played with asymmetry: her compositions frequently hang slightly off balance, reflecting her fascination with natural, organic processes rather than formal perfection.
Among these are what critics later called her “black paintings.” Interestingly, there is almost no actual black pigment in them; the depth comes instead from layered greens, browns and siennas so dark they read as black. As Roberts confirms, Mitchell was fascinated by the threshold—how far she could push color toward disappearance while keeping the painting alive.
Here, Mitchell brings her experimentation with the expressive and evocative possibilities of oil paint to a climax, embracing the entropic principle that governs all of nature—the endless cycle of germination, decay and renewal. In several canvases, gradients of green blend with autumnal reds and browns, evoking the fragile transience of seasonal life suspended between bloom and disintegration. In others, livelier blues and watery painting ideas meet and merge with dense, earthy masses of pigment, suggesting the Mediterranean waves crashing against the rocky shores of southern France and Corsica, where Mitchell spent her summers.

On her canvases, these abstract impressions translate the continuous flow of forces and energies shaping both nature and emotion. Her drawings from this period, often in charcoal and also included in the show, echo this inquiry. They are parallel experiments, probing the same dialectic of balance and imbalance, density and openness, but through a more immediate, tactile medium. Seen together, the works reveal Mitchell’s fearless spirit—her willingness to test the limits of paint, harmony and form. The canvases never fully resolve; they hover on the brink of collapse yet somehow hold together. That lyricism within instability is precisely what makes this period so vital to understanding her evolution.
The works in “To Define a Feeling” may be Mitchell’s most daring tests of painting’s expressive range, challenging the traditional idea that harmony is the measure of beauty and embracing instead dissonance as the truest means of capturing the mutable essence of perception—our shifting sense of the world and of ourselves—probably the only honest, existential position from which to experience and paint reality.
Jay DeFeo at Paula Cooper
<img decoding="async" class="size-full-width wp-image-1599293" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/2025_Jay_DeFeo_PCG_534_03_Photo_Steven_Probert.jpg?quality=80&w=970" alt="A wide view of Paula Cooper Galleryâs main room shows four large abstract oil paintings by Jay Defeo hanging on white walls under a high wooden ceiling with exposed beams. The concrete floor reflects the muted light, emphasizing the tension between the dark, moody compositions and the open, minimal space.” width=”970″ height=”647″ data-caption=’“Garnets on the Boulder – Jay DeFeo Paintings of the 1980s” is at Paula Cooper Gallery through December 13, 2025. <span class=”media-credit”>© 2025 The Jay DeFeo Foundation/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Courtesy Paula Cooper Gallery, New York. Photo: Steven Probert</span>’>
Jay DeFeo is probably best known for her most ambitious life experiment with paint, which culminated in The Rose: an epic 11-foot-high, 7-foot-wide painting-sculpture that took eight years of obsessive layering, carving and sedimentation. Estimated at over a ton in weight, it became what DeFeo herself described as “a marriage between painting and sculpture,” something that “grew out of itself”—a living organism born from the physical density of paint and plaster. When she was evicted from her Fillmore Street studio in 1965, The Rose had to be cut from the wall by crane and taken to the Pasadena Art Museum for its debut; long hidden afterward, it was eventually restored and now hangs at the Whitney.
A new exhibition on view through December 13 at Paula Cooper Gallery allows viewers to appreciate how her fearless experimentation with paint was not an isolated event but a lifelong pursuit. DeFeo’s first show with the gallery, “Garnets on the Boulder – Jay DeFeo Paintings of the 1980s,” features works from 1982 to 1989 and presents the most significant gathering of her oil paintings since her 2012–2013 retrospectives at SFMOMA and the Whitney. Having returned to oil after sixteen years, DeFeo rediscovered the tactile pleasure of the medium and a renewed embrace of color. These works are sensuous yet rigorously intuitive abstractions, expressing the possibilities of paint through a free flow of form and line that precedes all linguistic or figurative codifications. Layering and reversing on the canvas, she creates an autonomous universe of chromatic and formal suggestions, where moody, industrial tones are suddenly interrupted by luminous bursts of white or fiery flaming strokes, igniting them with new organic vitality, motion, energy and a sense of luminous eruption from darkness.

The fragile oscillation between obscurity and illumination reflects the sense of tragedy and renewal intertwined in DeFeo’s own life. The 1980s marked a turning point in her career: she began to receive long-deserved recognition, achieving commercial success and securing a stable teaching position in the Art Department at Mills College—the first such position of her life. Yet that same year, she lost her mother to cancer, a grief she processed through travel and artistic expansion. In 1983, DeFeo visited Japan and Hong Kong, where she was struck by the spatial divisions in Japanese woodblock prints—an influence that can be traced in her later compositions, defined by what she described as “the esthetic harmony resulting from the uniting of the geometric and organic forms.” The years that followed brought further journeys to California’s Alabama Hills, Africa and Europe, each fueling new series of paintings. When she returned to the Bay Area in 1988, she was diagnosed with lung cancer but continued to paint with fierce determination. Her work shifted toward the metaphysical, shedding earlier precision for looser, more urgent gestures and subtle tonal modulations. One of her final pieces, Smile and Lie, completed shortly before her death, distills that last luminous phase—a quiet, resolute claim for life, through the energy of creation and paint.
Agnes Martin at Pace
<img decoding="async" class="size-full-width wp-image-1599654" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/MARNY25_33643_CMYK_reduced-copy.jpg?quality=80&w=970" alt="A serene abstract painting by Agnes Martin featuring soft horizontal bands of pale pink and white with faint gray-blue lines, creating a rhythmic, meditative composition that evokes stillness and balance.” width=”970″ height=”964″ data-caption=’Agnes Martin, <em>Affection</em>, 2001. <span class=”media-credit”>© Estate of Agnes Martin / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. From the collection of Laura Arrillaga – Andreessen and Marc Andreessen</span>’>
There’s the grid of Minimalism and then there’s Agnes Martin. Even though she was working at the same time as artists pursuing minimal means and geometric rigor, Martin’s grids were more the result of a private ritual of control, an almost ascetic exercise of precision and order meant to hold off, or at least organize, the chaos around her. Using precise mathematical calculations, she created meticulous abstract compositions in intricate grids and bands of alternating colors, aiming to reflect the invisible, secret order of the cosmic structure behind all the apparently chaotic, entropic flow of forces and energies that constantly reshape reality.
In Martin’s work, the grid isn’t a cool modernist structure but a breathing surface—a repeated act of concentration where pencil lines, pale washes and near-imperceptible shifts of tone become tools for steadiness rather than display. In this sense, Martin’s approach to mark-making is closer to the philosophical and spiritual act that accompanies all painterly gestures in traditional Eastern art.
Famously, Agnes Martin was so self-critical that she destroyed a large number of her own paintings, especially early in her career and during periods of transition when the work didn’t achieve the serenity or “innocence” she sought. At one point, in the late 1960s, she reportedly destroyed nearly all the paintings in her studio in a spontaneous action that ended up making her surviving work even more precious and valuable, marked by the very scarcity the art market covets. But it was not an act of despair but of discipline. She saw art as the manifestation of a pure state of mind and anything that failed to embody that state had to go. It was her way of maintaining integrity, erasing what was merely effort to leave only what felt like truth.
Soon after this radical gesture, Martin made her most ascetic life decision: leaving behind the chaotic, rambling reality of the Coenties Slip to live in solitude and silence in New Mexico. There, she spent the remainder of her life fully immersed in the philosophies of Zen Buddhism that had guided her practice from the outset, as well as in meditative explorations of space, form and metaphysics. Devoting her life to articulating transcendence through seemingly simple forms, Martin once wrote that “artwork comes straight through a free mind—an open mind.”
<img decoding="async" class="size-full-width wp-image-1599653" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/2025-11-06_MARTIN_03.jpg?quality=80&w=970" alt="Installation view of Agnes Martinâs exhibition at Pace Gallery showing four large abstract paintings with soft horizontal and vertical grid patterns in pale pastel tones, displayed on a pristine white wall in a minimalist gallery space.” width=”970″ height=”647″ data-caption=”“Agnes Martin: Innocent Love” is on through December 20, 2025.”>
“Agnes Martin: Innocent Love” at Pace features 13 canvases created by Martin in the later years of her life—luminous works where she masters the phenomenological properties of color to express the unbridled imagination of childhood, but also finally seems to reconcile with the inevitable degree of imprecision and approximation to perfection that life brings and with her own self, as revealed by the much more serene titles Tranquility, Gratitude, Blessings and I Love Love. This group of radiant canvases reflects Martin’s intense, lifelong interest in the spiritual essence of painting and her conviction that beauty is untethered to any single subject or meaning. The show also marks the final chapter of Pace’s series, celebrating its 65th anniversary, featuring artists who have been integral to the gallery for much of its history.
Faith Ringgold at Jack Shainman
<img decoding="async" class="size-full-width wp-image-1599375" src="https://observer.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2025/11/FRI04.005-Jazz-Stories-Mama-Can-Sing-Papa-Con-Blow-2-A.jpg?quality=80&w=970" alt="A vivid quilt artwork by Faith Ringgold depicting a lively jazz scene with a female singer performing in front of three male musicians playing saxophone, trumpet, and drums, all surrounded by swirling red and blue patterns and a patchwork border that evokes movement, rhythm, and energy.” width=”970″ height=”1293″ data-caption=’Faith Ringgold, <em>Jazz Stories: Mama Can Sing, Papa Can Blow #5: You Put the Devil in Me</em>, 2004. <span class=”media-credit”>© Faith Ringgold. Courtesy of the Anyone Can Fly Foundation and Jack Shainman Gallery, New York. Photo: Dan Bradica Studio</span>’>

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