Hello Beautiful Souls, some exhibitions leave you with a lingering silence. A quietness not heavy with sadness, but more like the pause between heartbeats when something truly touches you. That was the feeling after seeing the Noah Davis exhibition at the Barbican this spring.
I visited during its run from February until mid-May 2025, my first paid exhibition at the Barbican, and let me say, it was worth every moment and penny.
Noah Davis, an artist from Los Angeles, had this incredible ability to paint the in-between, tillness, the softness, the contradictions of everyday Black life. Scenes of people simply being, diving, sleeping, thinking, loving, rendered in tones that dance between the real and the dreamlike. The gallery felt like stepping into a quiet film with no soundtrack, just feeling.
There’s a free audio guide you can tune into with your headphones, which is always a nice touch. It moves a little slowly, but nothing a bit of speed-up can’t fix. Some of the commentaries gave a deeper glimpse into Noah’s mind, how he felt a compulsion to paint like it was the only thing he could do. And honestly, it shows. His work doesn’t feel forced. It feels necessary.
One painting in particular still lingers in my mind, the figure looking into the abyss. The curator wondered if it was Noah or his father. I loved that ambiguity. That tension between reflection and inheritance. It speaks to so many of us navigating who we are and where we come from.
Another powerful moment was the painting with the unicorn, simple at first glance, but layered with texture and medium. A reminder that even a dreamscape can hold weight. And the rawness of the piece depicting a child being spanked, familiar and uncomfortable. A shared reality for so many, quietly placed on a canvas for reflection.
Then there was the painting of his wife, shown not as something to be idolised in a grand, distant way, but as a goddess rooted in the everyday. It was intimate and reverent, soft and strong all at once.
What makes this exhibit even more meaningful is that Noah wasn’t just a painter; he was a community builder. He co-founded The Underground Museum to give people in Arlington Heights access to world-class art. That kind of generosity and vision is rare.
I left the exhibition feeling full, but not overwhelmed. Grateful to have seen it. If you’ve missed this show, I hope his work finds you in another space or time. And if you get a chance to see anything at the Barbican, don’t hesitate, it’s always a special experience. Their programming continues to surprise me, and this was no exception.
With love,
