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I spent an afternoon with two exhibitions that afterward made me think about them together as a meditation on music, memory, and mythology.
At David Kordansky Gallery (520 West 20th Street), An American Beauty: Grateful Dead 1965–1995 (through August 7, 2026) gathers photographs of the Grateful Dead made over three decades by photographers who were part of the band’s orbit. Jerry Garcia appears throughout the exhibition, and what emerges is the portrait of a cultural symbol, and of a community built around music.
One block away at 303 Gallery (555 West 21st Street), Kim Gordon’s recent exhibition 12341 Branford St. Sun Valley is a single-channel film in which she plays her guitar against wrecked cars in a Los Angeles junkyard. The sound is raw, physical, and unexpectedly beautiful. You don’t simply watch the work—you feel it vibrating through the space.
Seeing these exhibitions together made me think about the different ways art holds music. The Grateful Dead photographs preserve a moment that has become history. Kim Gordon’s film exists entirely in the present. One lives through memory. The other through vibration.
Both are about artists whose influence extends well beyond the stage. They remind us that music is not just about the lived performance. Sometimes music becomes an identity. Sometimes it becomes a lifestyle. And sometimes, years later, it still has the power to fill a room.