Interview
We spoke to Dylan Hurwitz about his creative process, his role in preserving queer spaces, and the risks they face amidst an increasingly tense political climate.
Through his work, Dylan reflects on the impermanence of these environments—not just due to time and change, but also in the face of ongoing social and political challenges. In this conversation, he shares insights into his practice, the stories behind his latest works, and his thoughts on art as a means of preservation and resistance.
Can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your work?
My name is Dylan Hurwitz, and I am a Brooklyn-based artist working primarily in painting. My background also includes classical piano, music, community organizing, and curation.
I grew up in New Hope, PA, a small river town about an hour from Philadelphia, known for its ties to Pennsylvania Impressionism. My mother is a painter, so I was immersed in painting and drawing from a young age. I learned to paint with oils outdoors along the Delaware River, studying under local artists who worked in the Pennsylvania Impressionist style. I also studied classical piano from kindergarten through college, where I initially pursued music before shifting my focus to visual art. I earned my MFA in Painting from the Rhode Island School of Design and my BFA from the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston/Tufts University. Before moving to NYC, I lived in Boston, where I ran the Boston LGBTQIA Artist Alliance, a volunteer artist-run organization supporting LGBTQIA artists in the area.
While I was fortunate to have a supportive environment when I came out at 14, I grew up with a sense of the impermanence of queer spaces—many of which disappeared due to the AIDS crisis. My family lost a relative to HIV/AIDS shortly after I was born, and the stories I heard left me with the impression that while being gay was acceptable, intimacy carried an inherent danger. My work challenges these internalized narratives and explores the significance of queer spaces.
One of my childhood homes had previously belonged to a gay couple in the ’80s and ’90s who hosted vibrant parties, including legendary naked pool gatherings. However, the AIDS crisis ultimately brought those days to an end. My hometown once had a thriving queer scene with gay bars, nightclubs, and a cabaret restaurant—all of which no longer exist. These experiences instilled in me a deep appreciation for queer spaces, influencing my artistic focus on capturing and preserving the landscapes that have been pivotal in my life.
Following the pandemic lockdowns, I felt a strong urge to be outside and among people, rather than confined in my studio. This led me back to plein air painting. Recent locations include Herring Cove in Provincetown, Riis Beach and Fort Tilden in the Rockaways, and areas around Prospect Park. My work reflects the fleeting nature of these landscapes, not just in the context of climate change but also against the backdrop of current political efforts to roll back civil rights progress. My paintings aim to preserve these moments and share them with the viewer.
Can you walk us through your creative process? What steps do you take from idea to finished piece?
I would describe my process as intuitive. Much of my recent work originates from plein air painting sessions during the warmer months. I work with oils, carrying a compact setup in my backpack. Ideas for compositions often emerge while walking or spending time with friends in these landscapes. My limited color palette allows me to work efficiently on-site.
Throughout the summer, I bring these small studies back to my studio, where they accumulate into a constellation on my walls. As I spend time with them, I begin envisioning larger works. These expanded pieces allow me to refine ideas without the constraints of shifting light and time limitations.
Plein air paintings typically take between two and four hours, while my larger works require about two weeks, though some evolve over longer periods. Despite the extended process, I strive to retain the immediacy of plein air painting by working wet-into-wet in layered applications.
Who or what are your main influences? Are there specific artists or movements that inspire your work?
A variety of painters influence my work, but my background in music also plays a role in shaping my artistic approach. Some of the painters I’ve been thinking about recently include Milton Avery, Lois Dodd, Joan Semmel, Patrick Angus, David Hockney, and Monet. In the studio, I often listen to artists like Sufjan Stevens, Moses Sumney, Kate Bush, and Janelle Monáe.
Could you tell us more about the series you created for this exhibition? Is there a particular story you’d like to share about it?
This series began as small oil paintings created in Provincetown during my residency at DNA Residency this past summer. The work captures the journey to Herring Cove, a gay nudist and cruising beach, from morning to sunset.
I lived in Boston and Providence for nearly a decade, spending summers in Provincetown. Since moving to NYC, I’ve been invited to DNA Residency for the past five summers. My first year there coincided with the summer of 2020—a much-needed escape from pandemic lockdowns in NYC. That summer marked my deeper engagement with plein air painting, which directly influenced the work in this show.
My first visit to Herring Cove, also known as Boy Beach, was in 2016 while attending a painting workshop at the Fine Arts Work Center. We were assigned to spend a day writing outdoors and then use that writing as inspiration for a series of paintings. Wanting to experience a nude beach, I searched online and found directions to what sounded like a hidden spot on a gay travel forum. The only guidance was to bike along a road, look for a cluster of parked bikes by a fence, and follow people from there.
The journey to the beach takes about 30 minutes on foot, passing through marshes and dunes. My first time there, I was captivated by the vastness of the landscape, the shifting light, and the ebbing tide. Crossing the final dunes, I arrived at a space unlike any I had experienced before—an environment of freedom, community, and natural beauty.
Each summer, I find myself drawn back to this place, compelled to paint it again and again. This year, I explored new elements, focusing more on water and reflections and incorporating near-full portraits of friends resting on the beach.
How do you see your work evolving in the future? Are there themes or ideas you’re excited to explore next?
I have been working on a series of portraits featuring friends napping on my studio couch, exploring themes of masculinity, rest, and vulnerability. I will be revisiting this project next, culminating in a solo show later this year focused on portraiture.
In a broader sense, I feel compelled to respond to the socio-political climate in the U.S. today. There is an ongoing effort to strip away hard-won rights, and this looming sense of loss makes me even more appreciative of the queer spaces and communities that shape my life. My work has always sought to preserve and conjure memories of these spaces and the people within them. Moving forward, I envision incorporating a stronger acknowledgment of the present moment’s challenges, making the political context more explicit within my paintings.