Our Year in Review

Diamond Zhou
Dec 27, 2025
5 min read

welcome to our

SATURDAY EVENING POST

December 27th, 2025

Art gallery with colorful paintings and abstract sculptures. A blue sculpture, vibrant city scene, and layered color panels on white walls. — **On Now: Group Exhibition:** Installation view of current exhibition. Works by Robert Murray, Ian Wallace, James O’Mara, Jan Hoy, and James W. Chiang (from left to right). Photography by Kyle Juron © Paul Kyle Gallery.

In looking back on this past year at the gallery, we keep returning to one feeling above all — gratitude. Not the vague, ceremonial kind, but the specific gratitude that arrives when you realise you chose the harder path and it opened what was possible. We took risks that, in the moment, felt almost too challenging: ambitious exhibitions, difficult loans, big decisions made with imperfect information, and acquisitions that required faith when budgets wanted caution. And yet those risks proved monumentally rewarding, not only in the practical sense, but in the deeper sense that matters more to us: the works we were able to bring into our orbit, the works we were able to place, and the works we were able to share with an audience who may never have the chance to encounter them otherwise. There is a particular joy in making the improbable visible, in letting a painting, a sculpture, a photograph, an idea, step out of private obscurity and into the public room of conversation.

We are especially grateful for the connections that emerged this year, and for the way they quietly reshaped the life of our program. The conversation between the West coast and the East began to move with greater ease, less as a series of distant exchanges and more as a continuous, shared current. Geography felt less like a boundary and more like a passage. Bridging this distance matters to us not as a gesture, but as a responsibility: that important works find their way into view, that artists are met with sustained attention, and that voices from across the country enter the conversation as part of its natural rhythm. Travel became both catalyst and consequence of this work, allowing us to visit artists, encounter new possibilities, and broaden our reach. It is demanding labour, but deeply fulfilling, and there is no work we would rather be doing.

And then there is the daily privilege of the place itself. How fortunate we are to come into a gallery to work, where the walls are never blank and the conversations are never dull. We learn something new every week, not because we must, but because we love it, and because we feel the urgency of knowledge as a form of care: to better carry the messages of our artists, to better honour the works they produce, to better serve the audience that meets those works with open attention. We also feel lucky for our team, and for the small, human story of change that every year brings. We lost our beloved Mikayla to Montreal, and while we miss her deeply, we gained Esther, someone equally dear and capable, whom we will properly introduce once she has had a moment to settle in. The gallery, like any living thing, grows through these passages, and we are grateful to grow with it.

As we plan the year ahead, we feel the kind of gratitude that comes with momentum: new shows taking shape, new artists joining our roster, and the renewed understanding that artists are the backbone of a gallery. A gallery is not a gallery without artworks. A gallery full of works will not be a gallery without an audience to see and feel them, and to let those works trigger the conversations that only art can trigger. And a gallery is not a gallery without the labour behind it: the work of making things happen, of coordinating, advocating, installing, writing, listening, arranging, insisting. How fortunate we are to be able to speak with our artists regularly, to facilitate conversations and forge connections between artists, collectors, curators, and art lovers, and to help make introductions between artists and institutions, so that the life of the work can extend beyond our walls.

Lastly, we want to thank you for Saturday Evening Post, and for what it has become because you have been willing to meet it. Every Saturday, without missing a single week, we have been able to publish our thoughts: sometimes playful, sometimes serious, sometimes rooted in travel, sometimes simply a form of therapy, because writing has its own way of healing. Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for returning. It is a privilege as a writer to have readers, and we do not take this lightly. And thank you, especially, to those who write back, who offer insights, corrections, expansions, and generosity, reminding us that the writing does not disappear into the clouds, but lands somewhere real, where it can be answered, argued with, carried forward. We will keep going, with the hope of staying honest, staying curious, and staying worthy of your attention.

At its heart, the gallery has always been guided by a belief that art points toward something larger than itself. Call it the divine, the sacred, or simply that which exceeds language. We do not claim authorship over this force. We understand ourselves, and our artists, as channels rather than origins, participating in a devotion that takes the form of looking, making, caring, and placing works into the world with integrity. If there is a mandate here, it is not to explain or persuade, but to make space for that presence to be felt. With this spirit, we step into the new year with gratitude, humility, and hope, wishing you a year filled with meaning, curiosity, and quiet wonder.

A look back at some of our exhibitions from the past year.

Man, Roald Nasgaard, stands in gallery with colorful abstract Jack Bush paintings, one with diagonal stripes, the other with curved shapes. Bright, reflective floor.

Gallery with colorful abstract paintings by Jack Bush on white walls. Large yellow and multicolored artwork on left, bold green and red piece on right.

Art gallery with three abstract paintings: purple with green/yellow, orange with pink/cream, and tan with colorful stripes. Reflective floor. — Roald Nasgaard with exhibition ***Jack Bush: Flaunting the Rules***

A woman, Barbara Astman, views six framed collages in a gallery, featuring various figures and objects on lined pages. The floor reflects the images.

Five women in a gallery discuss vibrant, abstract art with colorful patterns on the walls. They appear engaged and thoughtful.

Man in black jacket observes framed abstract art in a gallery. The art features vertical patterns, creating a thoughtful atmosphere. — ***Barbara Astman: Concealed/Revealed***

Art gallery interior with monochrome floral paintings on white walls, polished concrete floor, overhead lighting, and a colorful vertical stripe.

Woman in black lace top observes two monochrome paintings—one of a rose, the other of branches—in a minimalist gallery setting.

Two men converse in a gallery, standing before an abstract blue and orange artwork. The setting is calm and reflective. — ***Tony Robins: Flowers of Resistance***

Above photos by Kyle Juron. © Paul Kyle Gallery Limited.

Some of the Favourite Saturday Evening Posts of the Year

If you have missed any of our Saturday Evening Posts, you can find them on our website. There are a handful from this past year that remain particular favourites of ours, pieces that sparked the most conversation and stayed with us long after they were written.