JTF (just the facts): A total of 11 color photographs, variously framed and matted, and hung against white walls in the main gallery space, the entry gallery, and the back office space. (Installation shots below.)

The following works are included in the show:

• 1 archival pigment print, 2017, sized roughly 44×44 inches, in an edition of 5+2AP
• 2 archival pigment prints, 2023, sized roughly 36×36 inches, in editions of 5+2AP
• 2 archival pigment prints, 2021, 2023, sized roughly 21×21 inches, in editions of 5+2AP
• 3 archival pigment prints, 2018, 2022, 2024, sized roughly 22×18, 22×15, 15×10 inches, in editions of 5+2AP
• 2 lumen prints, 2025, sized roughly 21×21, 21×31 inches framed with silk mat, unique
• 1 dye transfer print, 2016, sized roughly 9×10 inches, unique

Comments/Context: As you enter the first room of Naima Green’s new show at Astor Weeks, you are confronted by a single large photograph that appears to be taking your picture. This gesture of reversal isn’t immediately obvious – hidden in amongst the piles of white duvets, sheets, and pillows is an anonymous hand holding a smartphone, and once you discover that detail peeking out, it becomes clear that the tables have turned and you are actually the one being observed. Green offers us a view of an inviting space, and the title of the picture “Come Back to Bed” confirms the warmth of the environment, even if we can’t quite see the ostensible subject of the portrait. But then again, maybe the subject isn’t the person in the bed at all, but the space itself, or perhaps even the person offscreen being beckoned back to the comfort under the covers.

Given that most of Green’s previous work has been in portraiture of various kinds (as seen in her 2020 survey at Fotografiska, reviewed here, and in her 2018 show at the Arsenal Gallery in Central Park, reviewed here), this initial misdirection might create a quick moment of confusion. And as it turns out, the first picture isn’t the only one – there are no straightforward portraits in this show, but instead a selection of photographs that capture spaces and places that are either essentially vacant or only indirectly inhabited. As a project, it’s like an oscillating figure/ground or presence/absence exercise, where the sitters have been removed, leaving us to ponder the overlooked qualities of the sets.

A literal example of this idea comes in a pair of photographs of a reflective mylar backdrop Green used for a recent project. The silvery surface is draped and puckered, with flares and warps of orange light captured among the cascading folds. The two works are at once complex abstractions and documents of a particular place, with the “empty” environment itself, and its subtleties of distorted and reflected light, becoming the central subject.

One of the strongest images in the show documents, according to its title, the aftermath of a baby shower. Sparkly metallic foil streamers dangle from the railing of what looks like an outdoor deck, as well as from a large circular ceramic planter (with no plant in it), creating a paired repetition of textures. What makes the image memorable is the round ashtray full of cigarette butts perched on the edge of the planter; not only does it create a formal echo of circular shapes and shadows, but it seems to be evidence of a decently lively and fun party. It’s a terrific example of how a setting can imply a potential narrative, that we can fill in for ourselves.

Other images on view play with color, and with the placement of the focal plane, to activate the scenes. In “Reseeding”, a tabletop setup including a bright arrangement of marigolds and some nearby eucalyptus branches pops with energetic color, but also simmers in lingering zones of shadow and blur that skew the spatial relationships. “I take on shapes like water” explores a similar idea in a poolside view, via the layered harmony of orange tones and a blurred figure (and intruding tabletop) placed in the foreground, almost like a frame. “A Litany of Flame” hits the orange theme again, matching a splash of vibrant red hair with fiery blurred flames in the dark background. And still other works pay closer attention to how textures create mood in a space, in the form of a flash lit garden scene sprayed with water droplets (and nearly hidden oranges dangling in the back), and another warm weather pool setup where lounging figures float in the gloriously distorted sun dappled water.

Two additional photograms, lushly matted in silk, offer an even further departure from Green’s usual working process, subject matter, and aesthetics. Made during a residency in Miami, the images feel almost primordial in their fluidity, with papaya seeds seeming to float in a bubble and other even less identifiable fragments and natural forms squiggling like microscopic creatures. For a contemporary photographer typically interested in portraits, these works bring a sense of loose experimentation back into her artistic toolbox, where physical touch and chance can reenter the visual conversation.

In many ways, this show is more restrained and subdued than Green’s portraiture, asking us to be patient in our looking, especially when she is documenting the essence of an absence. But within that muted framework, she has crafted a number of unpretentiously resonant pictures that revel in the signifiers of space. Without offering effervescent personalities to fill the emptiness, she has encouraged us to be quiet, and to recalibrate our eyes to pay attention to the details of context and tone that we might normally neglect.

Collector’s POV: The editioned works in this show are priced between $2400 and $8500, while the unique works are priced at $1500 and $3500. Green’s work has little secondary market history at this point, so gallery retail likely remains the best option for those collectors interested in following up.