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I met Manuel Neri near the end of his life at his studio/ home in the Bay Area. I was visiting with his daughter Ruby, and her family, the artist Torbjörn Vejvi and daughter Sigrid, who were visiting up from L.A. at the time. Manuel’s place, a stately Congregationalist Church embedded in a garden, was partly converted to exhibit his work: abstracted female forms made of plaster, stone, or metal, framed by individual walls. Never having encountered his art before, I was surprised to see how it resonated with Ruby’s art, with its bright colors and sculpted figures.
Before I knew Ruby, I was familiar with Reminisce, the graffiti name she used when spray painting horses in San Francisco in the ’90s. After a friend pointed it out on a Muni kiosk, I’d see them all around, often painted near other murals done by Ruby’s friends. Her graffiti style stood out because it didn’t include the elaborately painted letters or drips, sad sacks, hoboes, or drunks of the other members of her DIY crew. Just proud, directly illustrative, occasionally nostalgic horses.
Today, both Neris are known for their depictions of women in sculpture. Last spring, art viewers had the opportunity to see simultaneous side-by-side exhibitions of the father and daughter’s work in New York City. Salon 94 hosted It’s What’s in the Ether, featuring new ceramic pieces by Ruby. In two adjacent galleries, they also hosted Manuel Neri: Selected Works by Ruby Neri. A second location downtown at Andrew Kreps Gallery continued Manuel’s show. The opportunity to look between the exhibitions of father and daughter in such close proximity provided the chance to reflect on artistic inheritance as well as the culture’s shifting understanding of how the female figure might communicate in art.

Ruby Neri, It’s What’s in the Ether (installation view) (2026). Image courtesy of the artist and Salon 94. Photo: Elisabeth Bernstein.

Manuel Neri, Manuel Neri: Selected Works by Ruby Neri (installation view) (2026). Image courtesy of the artist and Salon 94. Photo: Elisabeth Bernstein.
Manuel Neri, who passed away in 2021 at the age of 91, is considered a significant American sculptor. He received a Guggenheim Fellowship, the International Sculpture Center’s Lifetime Achievement Award, and the Bay Area Treasure Award from SFMOMA. Despite these accolades, though, he’s widely encountered through a footnote: He was a co-organizer of Allen Ginsberg’s Howl reading at Six Gallery in 1955, a poetry event understood as an opening salute of America’s counterculture.1 Yet when discussing her father and his artwork at a walk- through of Salon 94 this spring, Ruby described him as “conservative.” And while Manuel may be associated with Beat culture, abstract expressionism, California funk, and the Bay Area figuration movement, his bohemian attitudes regarding labor and lifestyle don’t necessarily correlate with contemporary representations of gender.
His sculptural female nudes were sites for his operations with a chisel or bright flashes of color. They are compelling artworks, but his figures lack a distinct “identity” or correlated “voice.” At Salon 94, Mujer Pegada Series No. 7 (1985, cast 2005), made of bronze and pigment, stood in relief against a wall, about six and a half feet tall. While the figure’s legs were visible, her shoulders and much of her arms were submerged into the wall, her facial features hinted at, but not present, incapable of expression. Across her body’s surface, Manuel developed a thrilling language of contrasting textures and colors; the figure is mostly ochre, though a bold-blue almost-rectangle frames her midsection. Her upper chest down to her legs carry yellow puffs of pigment. The figure, based on his longtime model Mary Julia, becomes a trace for Manuel’s mark-making rather than a translation of the figure’s individuality or life experiences.

Manuel Neri, Mujer Pegada Series No. 7 (1985/2005). Bronze, oil-based pigments, 79 × 54.5 × 12.25 inches; edition of 4. Image courtesy of the artist and Salon 94. Photo: Elisabeth Bernstein.
In a 1998 interview with the Los Angeles Times, Manuel mentioned that he had received critical letters from the Guerrilla Girls for the way he was “attacking the female form” in his art. The interviewer, Cathy Curtis, also made note of Manuel’s “virile swagger” and the fact that he had been married four times. Manuel often defended his use of female bodies as subject matter for his work, stating that they represent a universal humanism.2 Manuel’s works push together the bold formalism of abstract expressionism (shape, texture, mark, color) with the classicism of figurative sculpture. Manuel said he used women’s bodies as a “vehicle to carry my ideas.”3 In this sense, these nudes of Manuel’s can be considered “conservative,” as they were vessels for his artistic ambitions and perhaps sublimations of more abstracted impulses.
Ruby, on the other hand, talks directly through her nudes. She told me she identifies with Joan Brown, an occasional model and former wife of Manuel’s, and her approach to the figure, in which formal techniques are used as a tool in art’s ultimate communicative and expressive agenda, rather than its end.4 In the gallery walkthrough at Salon 94, Ruby said the “ether” in her show’s title refers to “spirit.” This notion of spirit is represented throughout the show in such motifs as smoke, vapors, deities, animals, and ghosts. They lend her figures their essential lifeforce.

Ruby Neri, Ghosts (2025). Glazed ceramic, 33.5 × 20 × 20 inches. Image courtesy of the artist and Salon 94. Photo: Pierce Sapper.
Ghosts (2025), for instance, is about three feet tall and decorated with colorfully cartoonish repeating motifs and shapes. Two bulbous yellow and orange flowers sit at its top, and below them are a ring of yellow-eyed ghostlike figures. The ghost’s black drawn-on lips smile behind and above a ring of women, all in brightly colored skirts, topless, their booted feet pointing outwards spunkily. Like all of Ruby’s current work, the piece embraces a bawdy, spirited fullness. Its playful spray-paint-like glaze and circle of women tell a story of interconnected generations growing, dying, living.
In January of 2025, along with many other artists in L.A., Ruby lost her home to the Eaton Canyon fire. In the Salon 94 exhibit, in another three-foot-tall ceramic sculpture, a figure lounges nude with a matchstick in her lips. From her mouth, she blows billows of colorful smoke. A group of smaller women stand below her, enduring the weight of the reclining smoking figure, who appears to be a deity. The work, Let The Unknown Pass Over (2026), alludes to the grit and soul demanded to survive life’s chaos and perhaps the community that supports us when we do. While Manuel Neri’s “virile swagger” may rightly strike some as out of step with our time, as his sculptures contain an element of gendered displacement, Ruby has inherited her father’s figurative tradition. But crucially, she translates a different narrative energy into her objects, imbuing them with her own vital life force, portraying a fuller version of the female experience.