Alexis Lam, Contributing Photographer

Pretty pleats and fiber fanatics, come in. Seashell and warm hug lovers, come in. Natural lighting nut-heads, come in! Previously on display at the Yale School of Art’s Green Hall Gallery is the Fall Undergraduate Exhibition, “Threshold.” 

With a wide range of mixed-media art and installations, the show is a bespoke experience — there’s something special for everyone to enjoy. 

Among the 26 showcased pieces, few have elected to display their technical prowess or aesthetic sensibility on canvas. Instead, most opted to experiment with numerous materials and media, challenging traditional notions about art. 

Perhaps that is why this year’s undergraduate, bi-annual exhibit is titled “Threshold.” 

“Threshold” often suggests a limit or a starting point — the introduction of a new experience. For these ambitious artists, their collective “newness” emerged as a result of manipulating commonplace materials in offbeat ways. 

Kai Chen’s ’26 photography searches for the “fantastical in the mundane” 

Kai Chen’s work is visible through the School of Art’s glass facade before visitors even enter the gallery. But once inside, it is difficult to locate. Interestingly, their work is entirely hidden behind the very wall that displays their photos forward to the world outside.

Wandering eyes will find small clues. Images shot in long exposure fit shyly along the margins of the partition wall. Follow the trail, and you will finally venture into the space between the wall and window. 

Perhaps most surprising is how the shadow of a neighboring maple tree, which sits in front of the gallery window, adds its own improvements to the artwork. As the branches and leaves rattle outside — and the occasional bird flaps by — the images, quite literally, vibrate alongside nature. 

Small as a thumb and no bigger than a large hand, these photographs require your attention. Around 30 flat rectangles compose themselves across the only partition wall in the gallery. 

While many might consider a camera to be an objective tool, Chen experiments with what they call “subjective photography.” Seeking to discover the “fantastical in the mundane,” they manipulated light with iridescent cellophane, a transparent material widely used for packaging. 

Chen used the cellophane as an unconventional filter over their lens, and as a result, their nature photography carries the sort of dramatic luster that might belong to fictional narratives: the grass becomes fireworks, the lily pads swim in cyan and the trees glow pink across the black night sky.

The artist includes self portraits in the collection as well. Witness a diaspora of his bodies in motion and rest or a triptych sequence of the artist comfortably laying on their bed. Chen’s photo collection is an edgeless exploration of movement and light.

In Ida Kulidzan’s ’25 “Cradling,” the ocean is a mother

Adjacent to Chen’s work is Ida Kulidzan’s ’25 mixed-media piece, “Cradling.” Rather than manipulating the ethereal, her work experiments with more tangible materials. Kulidzan’s portrait piece is an oil painting on a birch panel. Seashells the size of small apples adorn the canvas. 

In it, a mother cradles her child. “Like how a seashell might cradle its pearl,” the child is the prize. 

The artist ensures that the organic texture found on the surface of the wood grain and shells are preserved through several thin glazes of oil paint. Kulidzan explained that this creates the comforting effect of rippled water. 

In addition to the shells, Kulidzan introduces a topographic touch to the piece. Think about a smooth shore line and how the receding ocean water leaves behind shells. 

Kulidzan’s portrait of motherhood turns into a tangible experience, where devotion is as solid as a crustacean’s shell, and an embrace is liquid and soft. Few other pieces in the student show evoke such endearing feelings as Kulidzan’s work. 

Cate Roser ’25 explores her love of the crafting process in “Brightspots”

Cate Roser’s ’25 “Brightspots” introduces upcycled fabric and handcrafted paper. Her presentation is tastefully minimal. One sheer strip of polyester, pleated by hand with a steel ruler and applied heat, slips through paper, which is handmade out of recycled fibers and embroidery thread. 

Roser’s pleats echo the signature style of the late designer Issey Miyake and his renowned work with pleated fabrics. Along the edge of the garment, she adds a copper spline to give it some structural integrity. This single piece of cloth collides with the rough texture and feel of artisan paper. 

The artist explained that papermaking is an overpowering sensory experience. The tactile process is itself an art. She described its meditative effects and recalls how it calms and grounds her. 

Here is a piece that suggests many meanings. One can see a waterfall. One can see a commentary about the environment. 

Yet, Roster has a much more raw, self-loving and noble purpose: to display what art can be — the love of a creative process, and the love of materials. 

Nathalia Padilla Castellanos’s ’25 UFO, or “unfinished object”

Nathalia Padilla Castellanos ’25’s installation is a web of stringy needlework pinned flat to the wall. However, the crochet fragments are still yoked to their material source –– yarn balls –– and give the impression that the piece is still in progress.

The five balls of yarn quietly convene on the cement floor like an audience. They form the lower half of her installation while the wall above teems with knotty, looping and overlapping lineations. All together, they manifest into something that resembles a speech bubble. It could be saying anything –– let the viewers decide, the piece demands.  

In progress needlework pieces like these are playfully called “UFOs” by the crafting community, which is short for “unfinished objects.” Many of Castellanos’ crochet pieces consist of just the first row of crochet, and at most, an addition of five or so rows of stitches. 

Castellanos’ art is a work in progress, and her progress is the art. It is also a creative endeavor made up of many new beginnings. 

The “Threshold” exhibit concluded on Nov. 4, 2024.