A Week in May follows New York's design community as it gathers for its biggest week of the year. Set against New York City Design Week, designers, gallerists and curators show up across the city for exhibitions, fairs and parties, from Tribeca to Red Hook. This is that week.

The project was not only a film. Lyle programmed its own rooms inside the week, including Lyle, in the Garden, and the people who appear on camera are the same people who filled them.

This short documentary follows Lin to Marfa, Texas during Chinati Weekend, when the remote desert town becomes an unexpected hub for the art community. Blending travelogue with cultural portraiture, the film follows a visit to furniture designer Jøna Maaryn, who was launching a new exhibition that weekend.

It explores border politics, artists who build lives far from major art centers, and the appeal of making work in secluded places. It is narrated from the perspective of a New York gallerist suddenly dropped into an unfamiliar creative landscape.

Marfa is the first chapter in a Lyle series exploring the creative pulse of cities and communities around the world.

ONNI brings together more than fifty artists and designers from around the world, blending the best elements of a pop-up, a design fair and an art exhibition. Inspired by the art and design markets of the Nordics, it brought that idea into a New York gallery: a holiday market at exhibition level, dedicated to collectible art and design.

Limited edition pieces, small paintings, vessels, textiles, ceramics, sculptural clocks, stools, lamps and other gift sized works. Each one was chosen with gifting in mind: objects that carry the stories, traditions and craftsmanship of their makers.

Onni is Finnish for quiet joy, the happiness of being together and giving something meaningful.

Design has long been defined by those within the establishment, individuals with formal training, access to networks, and the privilege of working within systems built for their success. OUTSIDE/IN celebrated those who challenge traditional norms, offering fresh perspectives and bold, unconventional approaches that are reshaping the design world.

The title reflects a spirit of self determination. By reclaiming the term outsider, the exhibition moved beyond exclusionary narratives and reframed it as a position of agency, resilience and creativity. It drew on the Outsider Art Movement while keeping a critical awareness of that movement's limitations, looking at the idea through a design lens rather than as a label imposed from outside.

The exhibition also acknowledged its own position. As a gallery show, OUTSIDE/IN recognized the tension between inclusion and gatekeeping. It did not claim to resolve that tension so much as invite reflection on who defines the boundaries of inside and outside in design, and how those definitions might be expanded.

The show was filmed as it was installed and as it was visited, and the videos travelled further than the room could. They reached people who had never walked into a gallery, and some of them came to Rutgers Street to see the work in person.

Everyone understands what home feels like. However, no one's idea of home looks the same. It could be a place, a memory, a scent, a sound, or a light. Something inherited, built, or longed for. The word itself is universal, every language has one, but its meaning varies greatly for each person who utters it. Gathered exists in the space between a common word and a personal feeling.

Lyle asked creators worldwide to craft a small functional object that symbolizes home. Hundreds responded to the open call, and the exhibition brought together thirty two handmade objects from artisans on six continents. One is a salt container rooted in a South Korean tradition of placing salt near the door to ward off negative energy. Another is fifty kilograms of pewter from a grandmother's collection, initially considered worthless and set for disposal, melted down and recast into a plate, a fork and a knife. There are stone brushes that turn the daily act of sweeping into something deliberate. A house shaped wine bucket where the bottle becomes the chimney. A snuff bottle holding both the foxes of the English countryside and the fox spirits of Chinese mythology. A wooden vase with grain patterns typically hidden inside the tree, now facing outward.

Each creator responded through their own cultural lens and material language. Some pieces anchor home in craft traditions passed down through generations. Others explore migration, adaptation, and what we carry when the place itself is lost. The scale was deliberate, small objects you can hold in your hand, because that is how we carry home.

A still life drawing night, held inside the exhibition with Fierst Studio. Twenty people sketched still life moments using the objects of Gathered. All materials provided, plus wine and cocktails, and no drawing experience needed.

The point was to sit with handmade objects for a while and look at them properly: the details, the textures. A night to do something analogue and screen free.

Elsewhere came from a personal place. After a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis and a period of recovery from brain surgery, Karina Sharif began picturing a sanctuary: a moss covered landscape lit by the beam of a single headlamp in surrounding darkness. Those visions became the exhibition.

The gallery was built into that landscape rather than hung with work. Mossy mounds on the floor, luminous clay and paper light sculptures, layered aromas curated by Kindred Black, immersive soundscapes, and live movement woven through the run rather than staged once on opening night. Petal, In Between Dreams There Was a Cascading of Sorts, Oracle, Myrtle, Calabash, Sometimes Mother and Cradled by a Memory shared the room as a single environment.

Sharif came to paper through fashion. After years of sewing and styling she began working with paper as sculpture, wearable and non wearable forms centerd on the Black femme experience and rooted in rest, adornment and care. Her practice has since expanded into ceramic and steel, but paper remains the core language, fragile yet resilient, easily transformed, a metaphor for the beauty and resilience of the diaspora.

Elsewhere celebrated Black femme-hood, rest and resilience, and posed the gallery itself as a space for healing, with community care as a radical act.

A performance by Ashley Kaylynn Green, directed by Eryn Danielle, moving through Elsewhere rather than in front of it.

Green wore Karina Sharif’s paper petals and carried a glass orb through a room that was never cleared for her. The audience stood close enough to touch the work, and a card at the door asked them not to, and to put their phones down.

Eryn Danielle works in gallery sites and nontraditional stages rather than on a stage. Each performance was improvised, so no two were the same. The first ran for fifteen minutes at the opening reception and further performances followed across the run.

The Last Mermaid presented an exploration of the lives and legacy of the Haenyeo, a remarkable group of women divers from Jeju Island. For over two thousand years these women have dived into the sea, harvesting seafood to sustain their families and preserve the cultural heritage of their island, embodying the strength of Jeju’s semi-matriarchal family structure as primary breadwinners in a historically male dominated society.

In December 2018, Peter Ash Lee travelled to Jeju to photograph them. Through his lens we see the connection between the Haenyeo and their environment, and intimate moments with one of the youngest among them, who refers to herself as the last mermaid. Her story, rooted in a three generation legacy of diving, points to the precarious future of the profession under the demands of the work and the effects of global warming on marine ecosystems.

The exhibition is a reminder of the consequences of climate change on livelihoods and cultures, and an argument for protecting the world’s diverse cultural heritages. It was Peter’s first solo exhibition in New York, shown at 24 Rutgers Street on the first floor, Thursday to Sunday through the summer of 2024.

Metal was Lyle’s first exhibition. Furniture by three women who weld: Jøna Maaryn, Martha McGuinn and Michelle Jiaxin Huang.

Every piece in the show was cut, formed, welded, ground and finished by hand.

Three approaches to one material in one room. Jøna’s work is skeletal and heavy, inspired by the West Texas desert. Martha’s chairs and screens are cut in curling, ornamental lines that read as drawing before they read as furniture. Michelle’s steel is inflated until it looks like a soft pillow, then polished to a mirror.