ELIZABETH GLAESSNER GETS HER OWN ROOM AT PERROTIN MATIGNON

Elizabeth Glaessner's paintings hang alone on the top floor of Perrotin Matignon, the only artist in the building with a room to herself. Twenty one artists from the gallery's roster share the rest of the Paris townhouse this month, from Takashi Murakami to Bernar Venet, in a group show running through October 3. Handing one painter a private room inside a twenty one artist show is a placement signal, not an accident, and it tells a visitor exactly who Perrotin wants remembered on the way out. Photographer Claire Dorn shot the installation views, framing walls that hold Klara Kristalova's ceramics near Jean-Michel Othoniel's blown glass and Venet's welded steel, three very different processes stacked under one roof.

Elizabeth Glaessner's Beast Fills a Room Alone

Beast, a 2024 canvas by Elizabeth Glaessner, hangs in the dedicated room Perrotin built for her on the top floor of Matignon. The Brooklyn painter works in pure pigment, acrylic and water based ink, pouring color onto a canvas laid flat on the floor before hanging it to finish standing up.

Her figures are anthropomorphic and gelatinous, closer to Edvard Munch's psychological distortion than to anything decorative, built out of a mythology she has called post human, bodies dissolving into toxic terrain around them. Glaessner earned her MFA at the New York Academy of Art in 2013 and has mounted three solo shows with New York's P.P.O.W since 2014. A top floor room inside a twenty one artist survey in Paris is a different kind of placement than a solo booth; it reads as an institutional bet the gallery is choosing to photograph alone. Downstairs, Takashi Murakami is one of sixteen artists named on the checklist, the painter whose 24 new ukiyo e canvases opened at Perrotin Los Angeles in February.

Bernar Venet's Arcs Sit Near Othoniel's Glass

Vertical Disorder: 11 Arcs, a new 2026 steel sculpture by Bernar Venet, shares the Matignon rooms with Jean-Michel Othoniel's Plum Blossom, a blown glass piece built from Othoniel's signature knotted bead form. Venet, now 85, has worked in welded and cast steel since the early 1980s, and his Arc and Indeterminate Line series sit in more than sixty museum collections, including MoMA, the Guggenheim and the Centre Pompidou.

Othoniel has blown glass with Murano artisans since 1993, and Plum Blossom carries the same globe and knot vocabulary he used to cap the Palais Royal metro entrance in Paris in 2000 and to hang a glass canopy over an abandoned refugee boat for his 2004 piece Bateau de Larmes. Klara Kristalova's ceramic Looking Back, dated 2022, rounds out the cross section on view. The Prague born, Sweden based sculptor works in a deliberately imperfect stoneware technique, building hybrid girl and animal figures out of trauma and fairy tale material, and she was announced in 2025 to represent the Nordic Pavilion at the 2026 Venice Biennale.

October 3 Closes a Twenty One Artist Building

Perrotin Matignon's group show closes October 3, closing out a year in which the gallery has rotated its biggest names through three different addresses. Murakami's ukiyo e paintings opened in Los Angeles in February, Daniel Arsham's Time Fold survey ran in London through August, and now a Paris townhouse holds twenty one artists at once, with Glaessner given the one room set apart from everyone else. Arsham's own 2026 also crossed into design and auto press this year, a SITKA lined 1979 Porsche 911 SC among his releases, the kind of gallery to product crossover that keeps a Perrotin name circulating well past a painting show's run.

That kind of solo real estate inside a group hang usually means one of two things: the gallery is testing how a market receives a name before backing a solo booth, or it already knows the answer and wants the room photographed alone. GELITIN's outsider anarchy, Hans Hartung's gestural abstraction and JR's street scaled photography share walls downstairs while one Brooklyn painter gets a floor to herself, and that asymmetry, not the group show itself, is the actual news inside an otherwise routine Paris hang.