Salena Barry is a freelance writer and art critic.

Her writing has appeared in publications including frieze, ArtReview, and émergent magazine.

She has also written for institutions including Delfina Foundation and The Goldsmiths Company. In 2022 she was a Jerwood Arts Writer in Residence and she was part of the inaugural cohort of frieze New Writers in 2021.

She holds an M.A. Art & Politics from Goldsmiths College and a B.A. Art History from the University of Toronto. She lives and works in London.


Featured writing

Turner Prize 2023 Review: Coming Out the Other End

Review of the 2023 Turner Prize Exhibition at Towner Eastbourne for ArtReview

The Turner Prize 2023 exhibition, held at Towner Eastbourne, may be the first edition in a few years taking place when things, at least pandemic-wise, feel ‘back to normal’. However, as the range of works by the four artists nominated for this year’s Turner Prize demonstrate, ‘normal’ can feel just as disorienting as the upheaval that preceded it. The artists each exhibit works that explore different facets of this uneasy normal – political, social, economic – through a range of media including installation, drawing, sculpture and film. However, the throughline connecting this range of practices is the idea of community. For Ghislaine Leung and Rory Pilgrim, community can facilitate support and empathy. Jesse Darling and Barbara Walker explore its rough, blemished side, which, especially when considered in a nationalistic sense, can be alienating and destructive. Another throughline in the artists’ works is their response to the effects of recent or ongoing experiences. Pilgrim and Leung take a more personal route, focusing on how community influences the individual experiences of the pandemic and motherhood, respectively. Darling, whose work considers the aftermath of Brexit, and Walker who examines the Windrush scandal, contemplate how national policies can damage the communities they are meant to serve.

The Blk Art Group: How Much Has Changed?

Review of The more things change..., at Wolverhampton Art Gallery for ArtReview

‘Send this one back to the people [and] let the people demand an answer!’ Each of the 13 handwritten messages in Keith Piper’s 13 Dead (1981) concludes this way. Written on the back of postcards, each is dedicated to one of the young people, aged between thirteen and twenty-two, who died in London’s 1981 New Cross Fire, in which a house hosting a birthday celebration went up in flames, killing several Black and mixed-race partygoers. These deaths, initially thought to be caused by an act of racially motivated arson, spurred the local Black community to organise a ‘Black People’s Day of Action’, which saw 20,000 people march through London to protest the tragedy. The collection of postcards is set against a panel with charred and peeling wallpaper, bordered at the bottom with a skirting board. The work is both a remnant of the past and, with its instructions to seek justice, a manual for the future.

At the Helsinki Biennial, Environmental Concerns Loom Large

Opinion piece of 2023 Helsinki Biennial for frieze

A mere 20 minutes by ferry from Helsinki, the uninhabited island of Vallisaari feels far removed from Finland’s capital city, the sights and sounds of which are obscured by dense forests. Among the ponds, rocky shores and greenery, traces of the island’s previous life as a military base remain, albeit now fused with the landscape. Thick moss covers the walls and roofs of former ammunition stores and barracks, while fragments of long-discarded machinery border the island’s dirt paths.

It loves me, it loves me not

Review of Jaylon Israel Hicks, Gothica at Maximillian William for émergent magazine

It loves me, it loves me not. It as if each petal picked off in this decision-making process has been collected and stored to memorialise the conclusion of this inquiring game. In Jaylon Israel Hicks’ C-print Untitled (2012), several pink petals that are browning and dog-eared sit in the foreground. They are flat and distorted, compressed into the image as they would be between the pages of a book. Their faded colour is vibrant against the black background of the image. At the top left of the image, two used matches lie side-by side, creating two parallel lines. The tips of both matches are blackened, signaling that something has been set alight, either to activate or destroy. In the background of the composition, an eerie smile lurks. A thick black line curves downward before curling back up to meet an arrowhead at its right end, transforming it into a smile and arrow all at once. It is the Amazon logo, but it is slightly distorted. The line curved line bulges and bleeds at its centre as if the mouth has let out a thick, black mocking tongue. It taunts the viewer while it forebodes whatever its arrow suggests comes next.