February 23, 2026
Frieze LA is upon us. Many in the art community are being inundated with emails for previews, museum activations, and—if you’re among the lucky few—exclusive dinners and cocktail parties. Being eight months pregnant has allowed me to casually scroll through them all; depending on my mood, I’m either very content sitting on my couch on the East Coast or very much feeling FOMO for one of my favorite fairs in a city I recently called home.
One thing I’m often asked ahead of a fair week is which emerging artists I am excited about. That’s why, instead of sharing my thoughts on the broad range of art coming to the Santa Monica Airport hangar, I’m focusing my attention on up-and-coming names worth seeking out in LA this week, both at the fair and beyond.
I decided to reach out to the three artists who stand out to me most: Katelyn Eichwald, who makes intimate compositions of daily life and pop culture; Nevine Mahmoud, who makes virtuosic marble sculptures; and Casey Bolding, whose paintings are as ambitious as they are self-assured. We talked about their LA presentations, their take on the contemporary art world, and how their life experiences shape the work they make.
Whether you’re on your lunch break, on your way to visit a former lover across town, or simply out of curiosity, I urge you to seek out their shows and spend some time taking in what this next generation is creating. If not for you, please do it for pregnant me.
Casey Bolding
Age: 38
Based: Brooklyn, New York
LA Presentation: “Bloodstream” at Karma Los Angeles, on view through March 28
Born in Denver in 1987, Casey Bolding uses oil, acrylic, plaster, and repurposed wood to make paintings that explore the construction and deterioration of memory. His influences range from Milton Avery to New York’s graffiti writers. He has been included in exhibitions at Polina Berlin Gallery in New York, Pond Society in Shanghai, and Jack Siebert Projects in Los Angeles.
Describe your work in three words.
Addition. Subtraction. Attrition.
Before you became a painter, you worked for a faux finishing company and created murals. How does that experience shape the paintings you make today?
I was a painter then, too. The faux finish company was my uncle’s business and was pretty much a boot camp my mom sent me to after I continued to be a huge pain in her ass after high school. It’s an experience I’m really thankful for now because it gave me a kind of psychotic work ethic that has mostly come in handy over the years.
You also wrote graffiti outdoors. How did that inform your work?
The graffiti I had been doing prior to moving to New York led me to meeting a bunch of people I consider my best friends and greatest mentors. Many of them were a bit older and more established than me and were getting big mural gigs and needed extra help. I was really stoked to get to work with these guys. The gigs also afforded me more time to work on my own stuff, too. Without a doubt, the people I’ve met through skating and graffiti have shaped my world hugely and influenced the work that I do now.
Tell me about the work you are showing during Frieze Week.
This is the farthest west my work has ever been shown and something subconsciously occurred during the process of making that felt important to me. A kind of cinematic narrative that seemed to be rooted in the Colorado River formed as I began to finish the body of work. The images started to feel like mirages or scenes captured from the perspective of someone floating down the river. There’s an uncanny familiarity to the smirk on the face of the red river siren that tells you you’ve been here 10,000 times before but may not make it out to see 10,001. The traveler listens for the sound of the sea to signify the end of the journey but the mouth of the river has gone silent. The blood of the earth coagulates upstream, strangled by the nature of man while the toy soldier’s tune keeps us all marching on.
What’s an underrated studio tool you can’t live without?
Sam Prekop’s self-titled album.
Is there a studio rule you live by?
Don’t leave anything important on the floor. Every studio I’ve had has flooded multiple times.
Who are the three people, alive or dead, invited to your dream art-world dinner party?
My granny and granddad. Robin Williams as Peter Pan from Hook.
What art-world trend would you like to see die out?
That feels like a “don’t hate the player, hate the game”-type situation, but I guess I’d like to see artists feel allowed more vulnerability and less branding.
