A "This Is Not Art" Studio Update From Kai
Good morning, afternoon, and evening,
It’s been a while since my last update, and the past few weeks have been a whirlwind.
I recently previewed my new exhibition, “Double Take,” with an intimate show in Geneva before heading to New York to run another marathon for charity.
These two experiences were different in spirit. But, both reminded me how much life can change when you pause and look twice.
Before the show, I wrote that “Double Take” explores that fleeting moment between recognition and realization: look twice, and suddenly the world looks different.
Now, having lived it, that idea feels even truer.
Lately, everything has been a double take—the work, the travel, the marathon, the unexpected turns that reshape everything and somehow make it all more honest.
It feels like moments ago I was walking through Paris, visiting family and taking meetings. A blink later, I was in Geneva, surrounded by new works and collectors. A few days pass and I was in New York, standing at the starting line of a major run. And now, I’m back in Los Angeles, preparing the final pieces for my full “Double Take” exhibition.
Art continues to mirror the life unfolding around it.
SHIFTING PLANS
When Bel-Air Fine Art and I first planned the Geneva preview, it was meant to last a month. Then, just weeks before opening, things were reduced to a single day. Three months of preparation packed into a 24-hour show.
At first, it felt devastating. But, that change became a gift. It created a quiet moment to introduce a new stylistic direction for the studio. Experiencing that shift—from a 30-day exhibition to a single-day encounter—felt like dipping my toe into cold water before diving headfirst in Miami.
The night was everything I hoped for: personal, thoughtful, alive. The response was incredible and left me more inspired to bring the full collection to life this December.
In case you missed the details: “Double Take” will be on view at Art Miami (#AM330), December 2–7.
NEW MEDIA
As part of my “Double Take” preview in Geneva, the team and I previewed our first sculptures in synthetic crystal, a completely new medium for the studio. After weeks of testing color, transparency, and strength, the results were beyond what I imagined.
The crystal emerged clear yet luminous, delicate yet strong. It became a metaphor for love itself: beautiful, breakable, and at the same time, resilient. Its transparency and natural imperfections contrasted with the solidity of form, symbolizing hope born from fragility.
We paired the crystal with stainless steel, another first. Its sandblasted surface reflected the world’s wear—the aging that makes us human—and gave each piece a living texture. Together, crystal and steel felt both new and timeless, impermanent yet enduring.
Every new material is a commitment.
We test everything—durability, structure, finish—because I want these works to outlive me. I want the message within them to last for generations, and do what they were meant to do: spread love.
RETURNING TO THE CANVAS
While the sculptures pushed me into new territory, the paintings brought me home.
For the hanging works, I returned to my roots: canvas, paint, color, and cement—a “double take” on my own relationship with painting. I revisited something familiar with fresh eyes. This new perspective allowed me to bring everything I’ve learned about storytelling, composition, and emotion into a medium I had set aside for years.
These paintings felt like a renewal, alive with the lessons, endurance, and depth gathered through time.
ENDURANCE AND PURPOSE
And like the art, life echoed those same themes: endurance, vulnerability, and pushing past limits.
By day, I was in the studio. By night, I was training for the New York City Marathon. I told myself: “If you preach love, live it. If you preach grit, embody it.”
And last weekend, I ran—not for myself, but for those who can’t walk.
Together, we raised funds for the Christopher Reeve Foundation, which supports people living with paralysis. The campaign remains open for anyone who feels called to give—even one dollar makes a difference: give.reeve.org/kaiguetta.
This cause is deeply personal. My aunt has MS, and I’ve seen what it means to lose mobility. I’ve faced my own moments of stillness, so every step I took was for those who can’t.
Crossing that finish line felt like a continuation of everything “Double Take” stands for: faith, endurance, and gratitude.
SEEING DIFFERENTLY
In the end, “Double Take” has become more than an exhibition. It’s a reminder that life rarely unfolds as planned, yet often more truthfully than we imagine.
What was meant to be a 30-day show became a one-day experience. Frustration turned into intimacy, and art became a meditation on faith, fragility, and endurance.
Maybe that’s the real meaning of a double take: learning to see life, love, and struggle not just for what they appear to be, but for what they’re teaching us.
From Geneva to New York to Miami, thank you for following me on this journey.
See you soon. And if you look twice, you’ll find me there.
Stay up,
Kai
