Dog, the third exhibition at tête-à-tête-à-tête is on view July 25-September 5. Curated by tête’s confabulator, Pedro Montilla, Dog features work by Paulina Moncada and Camila Arévalo & Kelan Gill in the waiting room, with JoséAntonio Suárez in the reading room. Guests are invited to spend time with each other and the art in a tête-à-tête by Mae Bishop as selected by curator-of-chair, Kelly Kaczynski.

From the curator:

PERRO

Pequeños dioses. Creímos haber contenido el mundo dentro de nuestra propia medida.

Perro ya no es el animal que alguna vez fue. Ahora carga el peso que no pudimos soportar. Recipiente de carne. Carne que ladra, que duele, que sangra. Incapaz de contener todo el líquido que ha de recibir.

Domesticar la sangre.

Sacarnos los caninos. Quitarnos del pecho el mordisco que duele cuando la lengua pesa y los labios callan.

Las palabras ya no caben en la boca. Solo el vómito de lo que hemos lamido de nuestras propias heridas. Y la sombra de la bestia permanece. Cubriéndonos con su pelaje, reclamando el filo de nuestros propios colmillos: el hocico contra el vidrio, el vaho que empaña una ventana, la correa que se tensa, el hueso escondido bajo la tierra.

Perdimos el verbo.

~~~~~~~~

DOG

Little gods. We believed we had held the world within our own measure.

Dog is no longer the animal it once was. Now it carries the weight we could no longer bear. Vessel of flesh. Flesh that barks, that hurts, that bleeds. Unable to hold all the liquid it must receive. 

To domesticate blood. 

To pull out our canines. To lift from our chests the bite that aches when the tongue grows heavy and the lips fall silent.

Words no longer fit the mouth. Only the vomit of what we have licked from our own wounds. And the shadow of the beast remains. Covering us with its fur, reclaiming the sharpened edge of our own fangs: the snout against the glass, breath fogging a window, the leash pulled taut, the bone hidden beneath the earth.

We lost the verb.

Chemin faisant, il vit le col du chien pelé.

«Qu’est-ce là? lui dit-il. – Rien. – Quoi? rien? –Peu de chose.

– Mais encore? –Le collier dont je suis attaché

De ce que vous voyez est peut-être la cause.

– Attaché? dit le loup : vous ne courez donc pas

                            Où vous voulez? –Pas toujours, mais qu’importe?

– Il importe si bien, que de tous vos repas

                                                      Je ne veux en aucune sorte,

Et ne voudrais pas même à ce prix un trésor.»

Cela dit, Maître Loup s’enfuit, et court encor.

From Le Loup et Le Chien, La Fontaine

Camila Arévalo: Raised in the mountains of Ibagué, Colombia, beside a creek, among guava and almond trees, carpets of rose apple, and pringamoza leaves, Camila is an animal, transexual and—yet another— ‘multidisciplinary artist working at the intersection of’ performance, installation, sculpture, video, and photography.

Performance is the headline, but her practice exceeds and stretches the live act, composing performances as durational images, spaces as expanded cinematic frames, objects as material systems that prioritize experience, and atmospheres as structures that alter the conditions under which meaning is produced.

In 2014, a becoming-Horse emerged as a route of escape from the cages of “man” and “woman”, starting a pursuit of animality and an ongoing inquiry into post-human subjectivity. Her practice crawls through the performance of everyday life, the illusion of the “postcolonial”, the metaphysical belief in humans natural position of privilege over the planet, and the body as a stage where power is exercised, negotiated, subverted and eroticized.

For her, power itself is the medium.

Kelan Gill was twelve years old the first time he saw footage of a man being dismembered. Coming of age on an internet before algorithmic curation, he’s spent his life watching violent spectacle, the pornographic gaze, and the body’s transformation into consumable content become nauseatingly commonplace. Through painting, sound design, and fabrication, he explores the psychic residue of grainy execution videos, celebration of political violence, the fragmentation of consensus reality, and mass surveillance as a condition we live under and an activity we take part in.

The logic of screens and interfaces infects the mental state of depicted figures and distorts the surface of the work itself, examining the consequences of a life mediated by digital images.
Obsession, paranoia, repetition, and instability of perception seep from every pore, informed in part by lived experience with bipolar disorder and substance addiction.

He survives and works in Chicago.

Paulina Moncada (b.1998, Caldas, Antioquia, Colombia) works in painting, sculpture and installation to revisit notions of landscape in the Americas, specifically the Andean Tropics. Echoing the layered language of the Andes, Moncadastacks textures, colors, places and times to portray subtle encounters between human and non-human life. In her paintings absence and presence become possibilities to contrast human perception with what's beyond it.She received an MFA in Painting/Printmaking from Yale University (2025) where she was awarded the Elizabeth Canfield Hicks Award, and a BFA from University of the Andes. Selected exhibitions include Latitude Gallery, NY (2026), Perrotin Gallery, NY (2025) and the Museum of Modern Art of Bogotá (2019). She is currently a fellow at the Bronx Museum AIM.

Mae C. Bishop is a multidisciplinary (sometimes interdisciplinary) artist currently based in Los Angeles whose practice ebbs and flows through sculpture, performance, artist books, photography, and printmaking, all with the foundation rooted in collecting. After earning an MFA in Printmedia from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago May 2026, Bishop's work was amplified in undergoing this exploration of collecting through framing it as both their creative methodology and the way in which they move through the world.

It all starts from walking. Through wandering, noticing, and gathering, they accumulate objects and these objects accumulate friends and these friends find a home together waiting for their time to be picked up like a prize pig winning a golden ribbon, then they become collaborators with their collector. Friends to collaborators, translated into sculptures, archive, print. These works don’t just document what has been found, they show the attentive care formed through these personal relationships between the collector and object.

Rather than treating things as passive matter, they approach them as companions that shape perception, memory, and feeling. Nonetheless this exchange is reciprocal: the artist gets to hold the objects, but the objects also hold the artist. Just like how a chair cradles your backside when your feet have held you up for too long.

The chair is a body even when there is no one sitting in it, but it is also a sculpture and now an important form in Bishop’s more recent work. A form that becomes more than a fair weather friend, one that can support you without any grievance, it invites gathering, quietly embodying the possibility of connecting with more than just the chair it offers itself for those that notice when it lacks a figure upon itself. This chair is meant for sitting.

What does it mean to live alongside objects? To collect with affection rather than possession? To build worlds through sustained acts of looking, walking, and making?

José Antonio Suárez Londoño (b. 1955, Medellín) came to art through biology, studying first at the Universidad de Antioquia before completing his fine arts degree at the École Supérieure d'Art Visuel in Geneva in 1984. Since the mid-1990s he has drawn daily, responding to and collecting the world in an ever-expanding visual diary known as The Yearbooks. Working mostly analogue and largely withdrawn from public and market life, he is often described as a modern-day hermit, though he travels widely and remains an insatiable museum-goer. Portraits, plants, tools, patterns, and Old Master reproductions accumulate with encyclopedic range, governed by his own credo: always do the same thing, and always do it differently. His work is held by MoMA, the Albertina, and Banco de la República, and was included in the 2013 Venice Biennale's Encyclopedic Palace.