Robbi Firestone
My work exists where beauty meets urgency, and silence meets fury.
I create art as both refuge and reckoning — spaces where we may rest and restore, so that we have the strength to face, and fight, what should enrage us. Across two distinct but philosophically linked tracks, I explore how humans metabolize fear, meaning, and responsibility in a fragile world.
I work from voices of silence and fury.
My practice divides into two tracks. Serene Landscapes in Fierce Color asks you to feel the weight of stillness, the generosity of color, the particular silence of a place that holds you. Rooted in sustained observation of the Santa Fe horizon — its vast skies, shifting light, quiet power — these paintings are not depictions of place as much as they are states of being. The land becomes a mirror for inner weather. In an era of acceleration and fragmentation, they offer slowness, contemplation, and the radical act of looking deeply.
The Accountability Works asks you to feel something harder.
This is the second track. The fury track. It provokes feeling as injustice, as discomfort, as reckoning — and demands personal reflection and responsibility from everyone who encounters it. Where the landscapes invite, The Accountability Works insists. Both voices require the same depth of felt experience. One offers beauty. The other offers the thing you've been avoiding.
Existential Snacks: Food for Thought is the current series within The Accountability Works. These are 4x6-foot works constructed entirely from processed American snack foods — Cheetos, Hostess Snowballs, Dum Dums, powdered donuts, gum, Nerds. Bright, seductive, immediately recognizable, these materials function as a Trojan horse — inviting viewers in through familiarity before confronting them with what we consume, ignore, and normalize. Sweetness becomes menace. Play becomes warning. The candy is the culture. The snack is the story.
What I am making is a record of what we consume while the world burns.
We snack. We scroll. We distract. We are offered an endless buffet of pleasure precisely when the stakes are highest — and we reach for it. I reach for it too. That's the point. These works are not judgment from the outside. They are confession from within.
The series addresses oligarchy, climate collapse, gun violence, nuclear threat, sex trafficking, immigration, artificial intelligence, the erosion of women's rights. Not as polemic. As material.
Also within The Accountability Works: The Infertility Project: The Empty Womb — a body of work that turns inward, to the body itself as a site of injustice, grief, and systemic silence. Where Existential Snacks: Food for Thought confronts the cultural and political exterior, The Infertility Project: The Empty Womb holds what happens inside — what society refuses to witness honestly, fund adequately, or mourn publicly. Together these series establish the full range of The Accountability Works: from the geopolitical to the deeply personal, from the satirical to the sacred.
Materiality is central to my process. I move between traditional fine art media, new technologies, and unconventional materials — allowing form and substance to carry conceptual weight. My practice is deeply influenced by feminist art history, environmental ethics, and existential philosophy. I am interested in what is beautiful enough to hold our attention and honest enough to hold our fear.
Fairness is not a principle I hold at a distance. It is something I feel in my body when it's violated. The fury that drives this work is not abstract. It lives where injustice lives — viscerally, immediately, with no space between the wound and the response. I don't observe inequity. I absorb it. And then I make work.
A distinguished collector and trustee — someone who has shaped the landscape of American museums for decades — named Existential Snacks: Food for Thought when he recognized what I was doing: that the food is the thought, that we have confused comfort for consciousness, that the real hunger we refuse to feed is the hunger to be responsible to each other and to the earth.
These works exist because beauty alone is no longer enough.
I have spent decades making art that asks people to feel. Now I am making art that demands people reckon.
Ultimately, my work asks:
How do we stay awake without becoming paralyzed?
How do we love the world while acknowledging its precarity?
And how might art function not just as commentary — but as witness, prayer, and provocation?
Studio visits by appointment · New York City & Santa Fe
Info@FirestoneArt.com · firestoneart.com