Words Stephen Greco  Photography William Jesse Laird

Published in No 15

Unstored, runs through May 2023.

Please consider donating to help keep the vibrant dream of showcasing international art in Monticello, NY a reality. Time is of the essence.

Like a lot of kids who grew up in a sleepy, upstate New York village during the 1950s and ‘60s, I eagerly awaited the yearly arrival of Detroit’s latest models in local auto showrooms. Every fall we’d thrill to the practically Delphic news of the rocket-age world that was delivered in the form of aeronautical fenders, flying fins, nose-cone bumpers, space-force insignias, and the like. The new cars spoke to us of all the places where the highway out of town might lead — to bigger things, certainly, than the Cub Scouts and Little League. So, it made sense to me when I discovered recently that internationally known Mexican artist Bosco Sodi and his wife, designer Lucia Corredor, chose a former Buick showroom in Monticello, New York, to transform into Assembly, a private contemporary art space featuring the work of twenty-first-century artists. The showroom is now a forum for bigger things, indeed, than automobile tail fins, as in “the construction of dialogues between the international art production and the local community.”

“It's a beautiful space, but you should have seen it when we bought it. It was destroyed,” says Sodi, an artist known for large-scale works in natural materials that ravish visually while exploring social, cultural and spiritual conditions. “The way we did renovation was very organic — which works with my work. I brought in Alberto Kalach, a very important architect from Mexico, because I know him and the way he likes to renovate. I didn't want to hire an architect to tell me, "Put in sheetrock and paint all the walls white. I wanted something to really sustain the essence of the place.”

Assembly opened this past May. The Delphic news emanating from there right now is embodied in Unstored, an exhibition organized by Dakin Hart (senior curator of the Noguchi Museum in Queens), which displays works by Ugo Rondinone, Izumi Kato, Shiro Tsujimura, and several others, taken from storage — works “rescued,” said the New York Times, “from the isolation of storage crates and… re-entered into the world, where they can play their role in the marketplace of ideas.”

“The main purpose of an artwork is to be seen and felt by the spectator, by the public in general,” explains Sodi. “There comes a point in your studio when you have to put works in boxes, because otherwise you'll feel overwhelmed. You need a certain amount of space to work. All the artists that I know don't like to have their works in storage. First of all, it's very sad. Second of all, it's very expensive. We try to put as much as possible in our home, but then we still have much more than we can keep for our own collection.”

Unstored, which runs through May 2023, shares Assembly’s 23,000 square feet with a show of contemporary sculpture from Mexico that includes works by Sodi. The building was constructed in 1951 and, now gently renovated, boasts the noble simplicity of a Bauhaus factory building. “During demolition, we kept all the wood that was usable,” says Corredor, whose design and décor atelier, Decada, is based in Mexico City. “It was really nice wood. I did twelve benches to sit around the space. We also kept the lamps that were already there. In anything that we renovate, we always try to keep what’s original and grow from there. So, we always try to keep the same energy and the same origin.”

“I try to be as quiet, as organic, as simple as possible — always,” says Sodi, of the building’s renovation. “One of the big challenges of doing this kind of project is to make it as economical and ecological as possible. ”That word “quiet” is an important one for both Sodi and Corredor.

“We have to try to be as quiet as possible in our approach to different things,” says Sodi. “Relationships with friends, respect for the materials, respect for the area, respect for the community, for the culture. I think it's very important. It's the future of humanity — to understand that there has to be a quiet approach to nature, a quiet approach to society.”

Passionate and curious about the interflow of cultures throughout history, Sodi and Corredor are citizens of the world, with residences in Mexico and Greece, in addition to Red Hook, Brooklyn, where they are based with their three children, and where Sodi maintains a studio chiefly devoted to his paintings. In addition, the artist has a studio in Mexico City that’s devoted to his ceramic work and one in Oaxaca, devoted to his work in clay. The Oaxaca studio is part of a not-for-profit art foundation, Casa Wabi, that Sodi founded there in 2013, “to promote the exchange of ideas, fostering an open and constructive dialogue between national and international artists across a variety of practices and disciplines.” Every year, Sodi and family spend two months in Casa Wabi, one month in the summer — “when the kids are on vacation,” says Corredor — and two weeks each at Christmas and Easter. “First,” says Sodi, “because we like to see how the foundation is running. But also because it's contact for the kids with Mexico. They were born in Barcelona and have never lived in Mexico.”

It is this sense of place — the part of our identity that’s connected to where we are and where we want to be — that plays such an important role in Sodi’s work. His solo show now on view in Venice’s Palazzo Vendramin Grimani, part of the Biennale, is described by his gallery, Kasmin, as “drawing on Venice’s unique history as a dynamic hub for cultural and commercial exchanges between Europe, Asia, and the rest of the world.” And one of Sodi’s best-known public projects, 2017’s “Muro,” a six-foot-high, twenty-six-foot-long wall made out of Mexican clay that was installed in Manhattan’s Washington Square Park, was created in response to Donald Trump’s border wall mania and meant to be disassembled brick by brick by the public. A scaled-down version of “Muro,” is currently on view at Assembly.

“It was very interesting to learn about the history of Monticello,” reflects Sodi, speaking of the village’s faded, early and mid-twentieth century Borscht Belt glory days. “It used to be a very upcoming place, booming. And it was very interesting to see how destiny changed it — that kind of social and economic movement. Because the place is still as beautiful as fifty years ago.”

Before opening Assembly, Sodi and Corredor had bought a house nearby, on a lake. “We were very tired of New York, because there were too many compromises,” says Sodi. “Every weekend was dinners, studio visits, galas. We were exploring the idea of moving, and then I found this house on the internet, at a very good price. We didn't care where it was, because we were looking for a place to rest, and do family, and be quiet, surrounded by nature. It was in Sullivan County, and now we go almost every weekend.

“Nature is for sure very inspiring. I mean it's incredible, the force of that place. Always, when I'm driving there, I'm surprised at all the animals, the vegetation. It's raining all the time. It's like the jungle — like the Amazon, in a way. I mean, we have chickens and goats. Then a bear comes and eats the honey from the hive. The raccoons kill… It's a wild, wild place.”

“One of Bosco's desires outside of the city was to be able to plant cherry trees,” says Corredor. “So we planted, like, fifty-two cherry trees around the lake. But as Bosco said, nature is so unforgiving. Only sixteen trees survived. I hope that next year we'll see them bloom.”

Sodi and Corredor note wryly that they were living in the house for weeks before ever coming into the village of Monticello. Then, one evening in search of dinner, they came across “this beautiful warehouse that could make a beautiful art space.” The building was not for sale — until it was.

“I think it’s nice to give back something,” says Sodi, “and in a certain way to replicate what we have done in Oaxaca. We knew because of Casa Wabi the power of art to change communities.”

The program at Casa Wabi links artists together with schools, artisans, cooperatives, and other members of the local communities. And indeed, Assembly is beginning to link communities, too, attracting both long-time and newly arrived local residents, as well as the out-of-owners exploring the growing roster of cool, upstate contemporary art spaces. Says Corredor, “We get a lot of emails saying, ‘Thank you so much for building this place in a town like Monticello.’ ‘Thank you for bringing art, and doing it open to the public, for free.’ We have been very welcomed.”

“In the fall, we want to focus on education,” says Sodi. “We want to bring in school classes, a lot of school classes. It's very important — fundamental to make a real change.” Which sounds good to a home-grown upstater, who is glad to think that denizens of his home territory, which once seemed so out of touch with culture’s vanguard, are engaging with ideas and concepts that can take human beings even farther than can cars shaped like rocket ships.

Visit Assembly in Monticello, NY

Stephen Greco’s novel, Such Good Friends, based on the friendship between Truman Capote and Lee Radziwill, will be published by Kensington in May 2023.

Photographer William Jesse Laird contributes to Architectural Digest, The Financial Times and Cultured magazine, among others. williamjesslaird.com @william.jess.laird