Main Gallery
February 20 - March 21, 2026
HERMAN AGUIRRE
El Jardin
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Herman Aguirre is a Mexican-American artist whose work emerges from the social and political realities of Chicago’s South Side, where he was born, raised, and continues to live. Working at the intersection of painting and sculpture, Aguirre is known for his visceral approach to material, using dense applications of oil paint to create textured surfaces that embody both physical presence and emotional weight. His compositions examine themes of inter-generational trauma, systemic violence, and the lived experiences of marginalized communities, grounding his practice in a commitment to visibility and remembrance.
Aguirre’s process is rooted in an intensive manipulation of paint, which he builds into thick, tactile formations that evoke skin, rupture, and the fragile boundaries of the human body. These collaged, skin like structures move the traditional portrait toward an expressive site of witness. Drawing from histories of militarized violence and the impact of the drug war across the Americas, Aguirre constructs works that function as memorials, honoring individuals and communities whose stories have been obscured or erased. His paintings carry a raw emotional charge, inviting viewers to confront loss while also recognizing resilience and collective memory. Aguirre received both his BFA and MFA in Painting and Drawing from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where he now serves as a faculty member in the Painting and Drawing Department as well as in the Continuing Studies Program. His work has been exhibited throughout Chicago and across the United States in galleries, nonprofit spaces, and academic institutions. Aguirre lives and works in Chicago, continuing to build a practice that merges material intensity with a profound engagement with social justice and lived experience. |
Exhibition Catalog Available
"Step into El Jardin. Look through a window. Turn a corner. Lean in to read what’s on the tree that is splitting itself in two. Long to pick up a densely sculpted flower. Look up at a rainbow undulating across the tufted sky. Stand at the forbidden door. You are the body that this garden is waiting for. You are witness to the missing. Your body is implicated; your body is standing in for all the gone. Gone by death. Gone by ICE. Gone by cruelty, indifference, and the violences of desperation and of hate."
- excerpt from The Expulsion, The Garden, The Seed by Riva Lehrer
CLICK HERE for the full essay.
- excerpt from The Expulsion, The Garden, The Seed by Riva Lehrer
CLICK HERE for the full essay.
