NISO Gallery’s “Cirrus: On Landscape” is a Dialogue Across Time and Place

How do we see the natural world, and how does our perception evolve over time? “Cirrus: On Landscape,” currently on view at NISO Gallery, explores these questions through an extraordinary selection of landscape paintings spanning diverse periods, regions, and artistic styles. Envisioned by NISO Gallery founder Nicolas Sorbac, who carefully sourced each piece, and curated with sophistication by Jenn Ellis, the exhibition draws inspiration from the ephemeral beauty of cirrus clouds. Together, Sorbac and Ellis craft a narrative about humanity’s relationship with nature, presenting landscapes as dynamic entities shaped by memory, transformation, and imagination.  

Anchored by Salvo’s Bosnia Erzegovina (2006)—a luminous, modernist meditation on place and time—the exhibition weaves connections across artistic traditions and geographic perspectives. Salvo’s hyper-saturated hues and abstracted forms serve as a thematic cornerstone, resonating with Katy Moran’s gestural abstractions, which reimagine found canvases into atmospheric impressions. Meanwhile, José Antonio da Silva’s reflections on Brazil’s agricultural landscapes and Jamiu Agboke’s explorations of memory and movement imbue the exhibition with themes of social commentary and ecological reflection. 

Together, these diverse perspectives form the foundation of Cirrus: On Landscape’s refined exploration of the interplay between historical and contemporary visions of the natural world. From Janus La Cour’s The Ruins of Bramante’s Nymphaeum in Genazzano (1870), a delicate rendering of an Italian archaeological site reclaimed by nature, to Alexandre Wagner’s poetic depictions of forests and rivers, the exhibition unfolds as a layered dialogue between eras and artistic sensibilities. Sorbac’s discerning eye shapes the selection of works, while Ellis’s curatorial expertise seamlessly unites them into a cohesive meditation on humanity’s enduring relationship with the environment. By connecting past masters with contemporary voices, the exhibition invites viewers to see landscapes not just as artistic representations but as mirrors that reflect humanity’s evolving understanding of the world around us.

In this interview with Whitewall, Nicolas Sorbac and Jenn Ellis discuss their collaboration, the exhibition’s contributors, and the dynamic role of landscape art in contemporary discourse.

WHITEWALL: What prompted you to curate this particular selection of works for “Cirrus: On Landscape,” bringing together such a diverse range of artists, time periods, and geographies?

NICOLAS SORBAC: I have great respect for artists who dedicate themselves to landscape painting—a subject explored by countless artists throughout art history—yet continue to find new modes of expression. I was curious to see what might emerge from placing the work of contemporary artists (Ulf Saupe, Jamiu Agboke, Alexandre Wagner, Katy Moran, Francesco Cima, Sawako Nasu) in dialogue with renowned Old Masters and Post-War artists (Pierre-Athanase Chauvin, Janus La Cour, Alexandre Calame, José Antonio da Silva, SALVO). Initially, I envisioned a curatorial framework centered on technique and how it might have—or might not have—evolved over time. However, after presenting the idea to Jenn, she proposed additional parameters to shape the exhibition, such as the epoch, the geographical location where each artist worked, and their respective natural environment.

“I have great respect for artists who dedicate themselves to landscape painting,”

Nicolas Sorbac

A Strong Sense of Humanity Unfolds

WW: How did you approach curating these diverse works into a cohesive narrative that reflects the exhibition’s central themes of memory, transformation, and humanity’s relationship with the natural world? 

JENN ELLIS: Whenever I approach an exhibition, I consider the relationship between the art, the space, and the context. More precisely, I ask myself: why this, why here, why now? In the case of “Cirrus: On Landscape,” it was an interesting proposition because Nicolas had already identified the majority of the works and artists. My role, therefore, was akin to completing a puzzle—suggesting a few additional names and works, and fleshing out the narrative.

With the exhibition spanning two rooms, I focused on two ‘anchor’ pieces and built outward from them: in the first room, the work by SALVO; in the second room, the work by Chauvin. From there, I considered associations, dialogues, and conversations among the works. It became apparent that the first room emphasized memory and its transformations, which extended into the second room, where the focus shifted towards observations of the natural environment. Overall, there’s a strong sense of humanity throughout the exhibition, which suggests that, much like a cirrus cloud, our perceptions of landscapes are constantly shifting and uniquely individual.

A Deft Interplay Between the Historical and the Contemporary

WW: Were there any particular challenges in sourcing works from such a varied pool of artists and time periods? How did you navigate the complexities of creating this collection? 

NS: The primary challenge in organizing an exhibition of this scope was establishing a coherent chronological framework for the artists. If this were a museum show, it would likely include a more exhaustive roster of artists active in specific periods of art history. Ultimately, the chronological structure of the exhibition was largely dictated by the availability of works, which depended on the lenders. Nevertheless, I felt it was crucial to include Old Masters, Post-War, and Contemporary artists as the main art historical anchors of the exhibition. The works currently on display were sourced from galleries, collectors, and artists based in Berlin, Turin, Venice, Goldau, Paris, and New York. It was, admittedly, a logistical nightmare.

WW: “Cirrus: On Landscape” explores how landscapes are observed, felt, and reimagined. How do you think the interplay between historical and contemporary works adds to this exploration? 

JE: The exhibition points to a release—on the one hand, of observation and articulation, and on the other, of gesture. Historical works tended to be led by observation (Chauvin, La Cour, Calame): a tightness of brushwork, an emphasis on detail, a capture of what was in front of the artist or recollected from travels. What’s curious to me is that, if one observes closely, the greatest ‘play’ these works allowed themselves was in the skies they depicted or the rhythm of any foliage. That’s where emotion emerged—from the texture of the clouds to the tonal luminosities.

We then see a departure from such strictures, where emotion and recollection are given a greater stage (SALVO), and there’s even a sense of criticality, not just wonder (da Silva). As we step into more contemporary realms, there is a dual emphasis on expression (Moran, Agboke, Wagner, Nasu) and longing (Cima, Saupe), which expands the way we perceive landscape. By placing these views side by side, one way of looking informs the other, ultimately inviting a cross-referential viewing that enriches— in my opinion—our ways of seeing.

“By placing these views side by side, one way of looking informs the other,”

 Jenn Ellis

WW: How do you see NISO Gallery’s role in fostering dialogues between historical and contemporary art, particularly in exhibitions like “Cirrus: On Landscape?” 

NS: Intergenerational dialogues are at the heart of our program. At times, the work of an artist may be considered “ahead of its time”, opening the door to late-career or even posthumous rediscovery. By juxtaposing their work with that of artists living and creating today, I believe we gain a deeper understanding of their preoccupations and uncover synergies—both aesthetic and conceptual. To me, a well-curated intergenerational exhibition is one where it becomes impossible to distinguish whether a piece was created this year or fifty years ago.

A Shared Vision of Memory, Nature, and Art

WW: The exhibition features works that address humanity’s evolving relationship with the environment, such as José Antonio da Silva’s critiques of agricultural exploitation and Jamiu Agboke’s explorations of memory and place. How did these narratives shape your curatorial vision? 

JE: I think it’s important to recount and explore how memory is shaped, particularly in the context of landscape. Historically, there has been a tendency both to observe and to sublimate what lies before us. What makes da Silva’s works significant is that they break this pattern: on one hand, he presents luscious landscapes, while on the other, he confronts us with the destruction and deforestation caused by humanity’s hand. His work underscores a vital truth—that memory isn’t always positive, that our presence isn’t always respectful of the natural world, and that beauty can coexist with destruction. Meanwhile, Agboke highlights how memory is tied not only to place but also, crucially, to time. In his work, the richness of the sky draws us into that fleeting temporal moment—either dawn or dusk.

WW: What do you hope visitors take away from “Cirrus: On Landscape,” and how does this exhibition reflect the shared vision you brought to life through your collaboration?

NS: That landscape painting still has strong proponents today. I want visitors to know we are committed to getting to the bottom of things and to making this exhibition—and any other exhibition relating to past generations of artists—as relevant to Art History as possible.

JE: I hope people—through the cross-generational dialogue we’ve created—are inspired to experience each painting a little differently, whether by viewing historical works with an eye for emotional details or contemporary gestural works through an observational lens. This represents an expanded way of looking, which people can carry into their everyday lives.