Exhibition Review: "Tin Nguyen - How Nice to Not Rush" at Auxier Kline Gallery, Lower East Side / Two Bridges (March 27 - April 30, 2026)

Brooklyn-based artist Tin Nguyen’s landscape paintings live by the phrases “stop and smell the roses” and “go touch grass”, for his images are a visual panacea to the noise of too much technology. However, Nguyen’s paintings are not conventional landscapes that assume a panoramic view of a grand scene that is captured from a distance - complete with a defined foreground, middle ground, and background. Alternatively, he situates the viewer within nature at its most intimate, where every scene is a first-person perspective that brings one up-close and personal to the flowers, grasses, trees, and all that not only satisfies one’s visual sensations, but also activates associations of touch and smell.

When faced with any of Nguyen’s paintings, nature feels like it is within arm’s reach, and all but literally given the recurring presence of a hand that enters in from our direction and interacts with the subject before us. for sure, I couldn’t hold back from you (2025) is one such example where a hand coming from our position lovingly rubs the bark of a skinny tree in the middle of a forest. A mostly brown palette comprising the occasional strokes of orange and green manages to recreate the uneven texture of the tree’s bark, to the point where it practically registers the tactility of the rough and splintery surface of its body along with the scent of a certain woodiness mixed with the breeze of fresh air.


Even when the suggestion of a viewer’s presence is not so overtly defined, Nguyen makes up for this based on the subjective vantage points he selects within his canvases. The low-lying angles seen in the paintings moss-trunk, wet, I know (2026) and A Slower Kind of Walk (2026) imply a crouched position where the viewer is getting a much more focused glimpse at the smaller details of the wilderness that may easily be overlooked when caught up with the grandeur of a woodland setting; the former being the blankets of moss that provide a softness to the durability of a tree’s sturdy bark while the latter image centralizes our gaze on the micro-terrain of exposed tree roots, fallen branches, and patches of moss from a bottom-up look at a forested hillside.

Being in nature does not need to be a solitary act, for Nguyen’s paintings sometimes bring in another figure - the artist’s partner - who is just as much a part of the experience. look: autumn came, and you were beautiful (2025) makes for such a picture perfect subject as the artist’s (or implied viewer’s) hand is directly in front as it gently holds a yellowed leaf that playfully obscures the face of a young man on the other side. It carries such a soft, yet palpable resonance associative of the private and convivial moments shared between individuals on either romantic or platonic grounds. Similarly, another painting like a new view, and how nice to not rush (2025) seems to be a moment that precedes these nature-centric scenes as the sole image set inside a passenger train, where the viewer is implied to be looking out from their seat towards the aforementioned companion and through the window at a passing river and hill beyond. There is such a relatability to this particular image as it reminds me of the many trips I’ve taken over the years with friends via the MetroNorth to Upstate New York or Connecticut, often with the intent for some light hikes or strolls through nature (also, the view in this image immediately recalls Croton-on-Hudson, New York shortly before reaching the train station).

Objectively, technology is present is every facet of life. Taking the good and the bad together, we depend on it for so much. At the same time, the retreat to nature is essential to our wellbeing, whether alone or with a companion. Nguyen’s paintings are not suggestive of an antiquated, pre-modern look towards nature rooted in the Transcendentalism of Henry David Thoreau. Rather, his paintings are more telling as a gentle reminder of nature’s ability to offer physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing - a slight nudge, if you will - to take a break from the fast-paced atmospheres that permeate many suburban and urban environments. A great painting to close off this review, no longer a rehearsal, together with the sunrise’s choreo (2025), was specifically based on Nguyen’s experience of visiting a Buddhist retreat center in Northern California where he participated in yoga and meditation studies. This painting, again with the presence of the hand seen from a first-person view, beautifully reflects the wonder that emerges when being witness to the glorious rays of the sun as it passes through the canopies of trees, with its golden rays illuminating the wilderness in a resplendent symphony of yellows and greens.


