Untitled Art 2026

For more than twenty years, Andy Millner has drawn plants and trees with a stylus and tablet, gathering their contours into an expanding archive of encounters with the natural world. In the works presented at Untitled 2026, forms recorded across years and geographies converge in densely layered compositions. A plant drawn decades ago can inhabit the same space as a newly observed bud, its unfolding still ahead. Each drawing holds a span of lived experience within a single surface, assembling a landscape through memory, attention, and invention.

Within their apparent abundance, disappearance and emergence coexist. Some of the plants Millner has recorded are no longer living, while others are just budding, carrying the possibility of growth and transformation yet to come. Past, present, and future collapse into a shared space, much as we bring together life’s memories, our present moment, and the moments we hope may come. Their convergence gives the drawings an undercurrent of vulnerability: what the image retains, the living world may already have relinquished; what it holds in bud remains open to an uncertain future. In his digital archive, earlier drawings remain available to be revisited and recombined, retaining their detail even as their subjects change or disappear. This persistence carries a personal dimension. The accumulated forms preserve moments of the artist’s own life, giving shape to the desire to hold onto experiences that cannot be recovered, alongside the anticipation of those still to unfold.

Millner’s process makes this interplay between looking and invention possible. Drawn by hand in a digital space, botanical forms can be preserved, layered, and recombined before the image takes physical form. From a distance, the resulting compositions can appear almost abstract, their dense arrangements of foliage forming intricate patterns across the surface. Up close, individual leaves and stems emerge, each carrying the particularities of the artist’s hand. Detail is distributed throughout the image with an evenness that resists a hierarchy between figure and ground. Each part receives sustained attention, allowing the eye to wander without a prescribed center. Millner describes this as a “democracy of looking.”

Evergreen speaks to the enduring nature of Millner’s archive. His drawings begin in close observation of the natural world, many made en plein air, recording encounters with plants at particular moments in time. Through digital tools, these observations can be preserved, layered, and revisited, even as their subjects change or disappear. The drawings become records not only of the natural world, but of a life spent looking at it. As the world and the artist move into new seasons, the archive remains open, holding earlier encounters alongside those still to come.

As Millner continues to draw, his archive remains open to new encounters. Each composition brings earlier observations into the present, where they acquire new relationships and meanings. Through this ongoing practice, the drawings preserve something of the act of looking itself: time spent attending to a world, and a life, as it continues to change.