SAG HARBOR, NY, For decades, locals have simply said, “Let’s meet at The Corner.”
It wasn’t the trendiest restaurant in town, and it certainly wasn’t the newest. It was familiar, welcoming and woven into the rhythm of everyday life in Sag Harbor.
Now, The Corner is entering its next chapter under new owners John and Kelly Piccinnini . After sitting down with them inside the still-under-construction restaurant, one thing became immediately clear.
They’re not trying to erase history. They’re trying to earn it. Throughout our conversation, Kelly kept returning to one group of people. The locals.
“Everyone has different tastes,” she told me. “I listen to all the feedback, but I really take to heart the local that’s coming in all the time. Maybe it’s their first time since we’ve taken over. They’re going to judge the food, the service, the atmosphere. We want to know what they think. We take note of it.”
In a village like Sag Harbor, a renovation can happen in a matter of months. Earning the trust of year-round residents takes much longer. Kelly and John understand that, and they aren’t taking it for granted.
Honoring the Past While Looking Ahead
Many longtime residents were relieved to hear The Corner would keep its name. Few restaurants carry the kind of history and nostalgia attached to those two simple words.
I asked how they planned to preserve that legacy while making the restaurant their own.
The answer had nothing to do with marketing.
It had everything to do with respect.
The original mahogany bar remains in place.
The familiar green, brass and deep burgundy color palette has been refreshed with subtle updates that feel modern without losing the character people remember.
Some materials simply couldn’t be salvaged. Time, building codes and safety requirements made certain replacements unavoidable.
“Tile from 1978 doesn’t exactly exist anymore,” John joked.
Their goal was never to create an entirely different restaurant. The goal was to preserve its soul for another generation. Even the new logo reflects that philosophy. The iconic fish that longtime customers recognize became the inspiration for a refreshed design that feels current while honoring the restaurant’s identity. Kelly admitted the creative process became one of her favorite parts of the project.
“It’s actually more challenging to build something that’s already existed than it is to create something brand new.”
Walking through the space, the attention to detail becomes obvious. The branding, menus, coasters, merchandise and even the staff aprons have all been thoughtfully designed to create a seamless experience.
A Partnership That Just Works
Watching Kelly and John interact may have been one of my favorite parts of the interview. Kelly is the creative force. John thrives on operations.
She laughed that she gets all the fun projects. He happily admitted spreadsheets, systems and operational planning are his comfort zone.
“I used to be a lawyer,” John said. “That’s just how my brain works.”
Kelly smiled immediately.
“That’s what makes us a great team.”
Nothing about the exchange felt rehearsed. It simply reflected two people who understand their strengths and genuinely enjoy building something together.
The Corner is More Than a Restaurant
The vision for The Corner extends well beyond the menu. Sports will be a major part of the experience. John laughed while explaining there will never be random television programming playing in the background. If an important game is on, guests can expect it to be on every screen.
Knicks fans can relax.
They’re both Knicks fans.
Football Sundays, however, are still up for debate.
The Giants, Jets and Patriots all entered the conversation.
Can you guess John’s favorite team? We know the answer, but we’ll let him tell you when the doors officially open.
Plans are also underway for trivia nights, community events and year-round programming designed to make The Corner more than just a place to eat. Kelly and John want it to become a gathering place where locals feel comfortable returning again and again.
That commitment to staying engaged throughout the year speaks volumes.
One Final Question
Before wrapping up our conversation, I asked one last question.
What do you hope people feel when they walk through the doors for the very first time?
Kelly paused. Her eyes filled with emotion before she answered.
“I just want them to feel welcome.”
She spoke about hospitality as an art form; not something reserved for upscale restaurants.
Something everyone deserves to experience, whether they’re lifelong residents, weekend visitors, families with children or someone stopping in for a casual lunch.
John’s answer focused on something equally meaningful. He hopes people recognize the nostalgia while feeling excited to create new memories. His greatest hope?
“That they walk out and think… I think these guys got it.”
My Take
Over the years, I’ve interviewed countless restaurant owners. Many conversations center around concepts. Others focus on branding. Some are driven almost entirely by business. Kelly and John spent most of our interview talking about people. Listening. Community. Respecting what already exists instead of replacing it. Every person who walks through the doors will have an opinion. Some will love every detail. Others won’t. That’s part of owning a beloved restaurant in a town as passionate as Sag Harbor.
First impressions, however, suggest something refreshing.
Kelly and John aren’t chasing the title of Sag Harbor’s hottest new restaurant. They’re focused on something far more meaningful: becoming everyone’s neighborhood gathering place again. For many locals, that’s exactly what The Corner has always been. If our conversation was any indication, this isn’t just another restaurant opening. It’s a story about community, listening and honoring the people who helped make The Corner what it is. That’s Real Talk. Real People, and that’s a story worth telling.
What Does 60 Look Like? I’m writing this for me, for my friends, for the woman who hasn’t yet found her voice, for my daughters, and for every woman who quietly dreads another birthday because somewhere along the way she was taught that getting older meant becoming less.
Less beautiful.
Less relevant.
Less visible.
I don’t believe that anymore!
When I was a little girl, I had no idea what 60 looked like.
I assumed that by 60, I would be old. Really old. I pictured sensible shoes, shorter hair, long skirts, and someone who had already lived the exciting part of her life. My definition of 60 came from the women I knew growing up, especially my grandmother and my mother.
My mother, though, wasn’t a fair example. She had been sick for so many years that her illness aged her long before her birthday ever did. Looking back, I realize I never actually knew what a healthy 60-year-old woman looked like. I only knew what illness looked like.
Then I entered my 50s, and menopause humbled me.
My doctor had warned me years earlier, after I had my youngest daughter, that because my hormone levels had been unusually high during pregnancy, menopause might be especially challenging. He wasn’t wrong. There were days I didn’t recognize myself. My body was changing. My emotions were changing. For the first time in my life, I wondered if I would ever feel like “me” again.
Eventually, I did. Not the old me. A stronger me.
After my mother died in 2017 at the age of 69, I made a decision that changed my life. I wasn’t going to spend the next chapter simply growing older. I was going to become healthier. That was the beginning of my wellness journey. It wasn’t about losing weight or looking younger. It was about deciding how I wanted to live the rest of my life. I started eating differently, moving my body more, making sleep a priority, protecting my peace, and finally putting myself first. Looking back now, I realize this is the foundation of what 60 looks like for me, not chasing youth, but choosing health, strength, and purpose. I wrote about that journey in Putting Me First: How My Wellness Journey Began and Where It’s Headed, and I now understand it wasn’t just about improving my health. It was about reclaiming my life.
Something unexpected happened during that journey.
I started feeling younger.
Not younger because I was trying to turn back the clock. Younger because I finally felt comfortable in my own skin.
Now, as I prepare to celebrate my 60th birthday, there are days I look in the mirror and honestly feel like I’m 40. Some days I feel 30. The funny thing is, I have absolutely no desire to go back. Every decade has given me something the one before couldn’t. At almost 60, I know exactly who I am, and there is something incredibly freeing about that. When people ask me what 60 looks like, my answer isn’t about wrinkles or gray hair. It looks like confidence, peace, and finally feeling comfortable in my own skin.
The biggest surprise about getting older isn’t the wrinkles or the fact that losing five pounds takes twice the effort it once did. Trust me, that’s real. Some mornings I don’t feel like getting on the treadmill, but I do it anyway. Every now and then I look down and realize I’ve pushed the speed up to seven, and I can’t help but smile. Thirty-year-old me never imagined she’d be doing that at 60.
What surprises me most is how little I care about the opinions of other people.
One thing I’ve come to realize is that many women don’t actually fear turning 60. We fear how society will see us once we get there.
Ageism is real! Especially for women.
Somewhere along the way, we were taught that youth equals beauty and that every birthday somehow makes us less valuable. I think that’s one of the greatest lies we’ve ever been told.
I remember recently working at a company where I was the oldest person in the office, including the owner. Some people might have found that intimidating. I didn’t. I walked into work every day asking myself, “What can I learn today?” The younger employees taught me new technology, different ways of thinking, and skills I didn’t have. Instead of resisting change, I embraced it. Ironically, being willing to keep learning has put me in one of the strongest positions of my professional career. Age never became my limitation because I refused to let it.
I also think many women have experienced feeling invisible as they get older. We’ve all heard stories about men leaving longtime marriages for younger women, and whether we’ve lived that experience or not, it sends a message. It can make women wonder if beauty has an expiration date. Personally, I don’t believe it does. Sometimes I wonder if chasing youth has more to do with people confronting their own mortality than it does with beauty itself.
I’ve been incredibly fortunate.
For nearly 37 years, my husband has looked at me the same way. Almost every day he says, “Ness, you have beautiful legs. Show them.” Then he’ll remind me how beautiful I am. I never take those words for granted. They don’t define my confidence, but they remind me what love looks like. Real love doesn’t ask you to become someone else. It celebrates the person you’ve become.
Maybe that’s why I still love getting dressed.
I love style. I love fashion. I love walking into a room like I own it.
Not because I’m trying to compete with someone who’s 30 years younger than me, but because I genuinely like the woman I see in the mirror. That wasn’t always true. Learning to love the reflection staring back at me has been its own journey, something I wrote about in Real Talk: Loving What You See in the Mirror. Confidence doesn’t come from looking younger. It comes from finally accepting yourself.
Over the past few years, I’ve realized something else.
Youth isn’t a number.
It’s a whole mood.
It’s curiosity.
It’s purpose.
It’s waking up excited about what’s next.
It’s continuing to learn, to laugh, to dream, and to believe your best chapters may still be ahead of you. That’s exactly what inspired me to write Youth Is a Whole Mood.
Now, when I hear someone say a person died in their 60s, my first reaction is always the same.
“Wow… that’s so young.” Maybe that’s because it is. Or maybe it’s because our definition of aging has changed.
People are living longer. They’re healthier. They’re starting businesses, traveling, finding love, lifting weights, and reinventing themselves well into their 60s and beyond.
So what does 60 look like?
For me, it looks like confidence without needing anyone’s approval.
It looks like wisdom earned through experience.
It looks like resilience.
It looks like peace.
It looks like choosing myself without guilt.
It looks like still having dreams that haven’t been accomplished yet.
Most of all, it looks like freedom.
Freedom from comparison.
Freedom from unrealistic expectations.
Freedom from believing my value has an expiration date.
If my daughters take one thing away from this article, I hope it’s this.
Don’t be afraid of getting older. Don’t rush through your life because you think your best years are behind you. Your life isn’t measured by the number of candles on your birthday cake. It’s measured by how fully you choose to live. Maybe that’s what 60 looks like.
Maybe… it looks like me; and for the first time in my life, I can honestly say…
There was something refreshing about the recent discussion regarding formula stores, commercial rents, and the future of Sag Harbor Village. Residents, business owners, arts leaders, property owners, and Village officials gathered to discuss a question that affects everyone who loves this community: How do we protect what makes Sag Harbor special while still allowing the village to grow and evolve?
What emerged from the conversation was not a debate about one retailer, one landlord, or one vacant storefront. The discussion quickly became a broader conversation about community identity, economic sustainability, small businesses, and the future of Main Street Sag Harbor. While opinions varied, there was one point of agreement shared by nearly everyone in the room. The character of Sag Harbor is worth protecting.
Let’s Start With What We All Agree On
The conversation surrounding Sag Harbor Village often becomes emotional because people care deeply about this place. Whether someone owns a business, rents an apartment, owns commercial property, serves on a nonprofit board, or simply enjoys spending time on Main Street, there is a shared appreciation for the qualities that make the village unique.
The goal is not to stop change. Change has always been part of the history of Sag Harbor. The challenge is determining how growth can occur without sacrificing the character that attracts residents, visitors, and businesses in the first place. Most people recognize that economic vitality is important. They also recognize that preserving the village’s identity is equally important.
There Is Something Special About This Place
People do not visit Sag Harbor Village because it is the largest shopping district on the East End. They visit because it offers an experience that feels authentic. A walk down Main Street often includes conversations with neighbors, visits to independently owned shops, waterfront views, local events, and businesses that have become part of the fabric of the community.
That authenticity has tremendous value. It is one of the reasons people choose to invest in Sag Harbor, purchase homes here, open businesses, and return year after year. The concern expressed by many residents is that once a village loses its identity, it becomes difficult to recover. Protecting the character of Main Street Sag Harbor is not about resisting change. It is about preserving the qualities that make the village different from countless other destinations.
Empty Storefronts Tell A Bigger Story
Much of the public conversation has focused on formula stores, but many participants in the Village discussion argued that the larger issue may be vacant storefronts and the growing challenge of maintaining year-round businesses. A dark storefront affects more than a single property owner. It impacts foot traffic, neighboring businesses, visitor experience, and the overall energy of the Village.
When residents begin leaving Sag Harbor to shop elsewhere, they often spend money elsewhere as well. One business closure can create a ripple effect that impacts surrounding businesses. Over time, fewer destinations can mean fewer visitors and less activity throughout the village. For many community members, the long-term health of Sag Harbor businesses depends on finding ways to keep storefronts occupied and active throughout the year.
Several speakers noted that a village thrives when there are reasons for people to walk its streets every month of the year. Restaurants, retailers, arts organizations, and service businesses all depend on a healthy ecosystem. Empty storefronts weaken that ecosystem and can gradually alter the experience that residents and visitors have come to expect from Sag Harbor.
Let’s Talk About Rent
The reality of rising commercial rents was impossible to ignore during the discussion. Many commercial properties are no longer owned by families who have held them for generations. Investment groups, developers, and outside investors have purchased a number of buildings throughout the village, often at prices that require significant rental income to justify those investments.
Property owners have every right to seek a return on their investment. The challenge is that many small businesses in Sag Harbor cannot compete with the rents that larger retailers or national brands can afford to pay. A locally owned bookstore, gift shop, shoe store, or specialty retailer may bring character and community value to Main Street, but character alone does not pay the rent.
The question facing the community is not whether landlords should be profitable. The question is whether there are creative solutions that can help preserve the independent businesses that contribute to the village’s identity while still respecting property rights.
Property Owners Aren’t The Enemy
One of the most productive themes that emerged from the discussion was the recognition that commercial property owners are not necessarily the problem. Many investors purchased property in Sag Harbor Village because they were attracted to the same qualities residents are trying to protect. They saw value in the walkability, history, charm, and strong sense of community that define the village.
Rather than creating an adversarial relationship between landlords and local businesses, several participants suggested bringing everyone together. A roundtable discussion involving property owners, Village officials, business owners, arts organizations, and residents could create opportunities for collaboration. A healthy Sag Harbor community benefits everyone, including landlords, retailers, nonprofits, and residents.
Many investors have chosen Sag Harbor specifically because it is not Southampton, East Hampton, Palm Beach, or Aspen. They invested in a village with a unique identity. That common interest may provide a starting point for finding solutions that support both economic growth and community preservation.
What If We Focused On Solutions?
A recurring theme throughout the discussion was the need to focus on solutions rather than taking sides. While the Village cannot dictate who a landlord rents to, there may be ways to encourage outcomes that support the long-term health of Sag Harbor Village.
Several residents suggested exploring incentive-based approaches rather than relying solely on restrictions. State-authorized tax incentives, facade improvement grants, marketing partnerships, permit fee reductions, and economic development programs could potentially encourage property owners to lease to year-round operators and independent businesses.
The reality is simple. If landlords are being asked to consider a local business over a tenant willing to pay significantly more rent, there must be a financial reason for doing so. Communities often achieve better outcomes when economic interests and community interests are aligned.
Small Businesses Need More Than Good Intentions
Supporting small businesses in Sag Harbor requires more than expressing appreciation for them. Independent businesses need resources, visibility, and opportunities to compete in an increasingly expensive environment.
Potential solutions include small business grants, cooperative marketing programs, seasonal business support, reduced permitting fees, mentorship opportunities, and pop-up retail initiatives. These tools could help entrepreneurs establish themselves while creating more diversity along Main Street.
Local businesses do far more than generate revenue. They sponsor youth sports teams, contribute to charitable causes, support school fundraisers, and participate in community events. Their success directly impacts the social fabric of Sag Harbor. When local businesses thrive, the entire community benefits.
A Lesson From East Hampton
While this idea was not specifically discussed during the Village meeting, it is worth considering as part of the broader conversation about keeping Main Street active year-round.
In neighboring East Hampton, some seasonal businesses that close during the winter months offer short-term storefront opportunities during the off-season. These temporary arrangements can provide affordable space for artists, makers, specialty retailers, entrepreneurs, and emerging businesses while helping to keep storefronts active.
Could a similar concept work in Sag Harbor?
A Winter Storefront Program could provide opportunities for local entrepreneurs while reducing the number of dark storefronts during slower months. It could also serve as a way for new businesses to test the market before committing to a year-round lease.
This is not a proposal currently under consideration by the Village. It is simply one example of the type of creative thinking that communities across the country have used to support small businesses, increase foot traffic, and keep downtown districts vibrant throughout the year.
Maybe It’s Time To Think Outside The Box
Some of the most interesting ideas discussed during the Village conversation were not about restrictions at all. They were about creativity and long-term thinking.
Several residents referenced the success of the Community Preservation Fund, which helped protect East End farmland from overdevelopment. No one is suggesting that commercial properties should be regulated in the same way. However, the broader concept of preservation may offer inspiration for protecting the character of Sag Harbor Village.
Could there be a Main Street preservation initiative? Could philanthropic organizations, community foundations, or public-private partnerships help support a healthy mix of businesses? Could grants, easements, or innovative funding mechanisms help preserve the qualities that attract both residents and investors?
One idea that came to mind as I listened to the discussion is the possibility of bringing commercial property owners together for a dedicated conversation about the future of Main Street.
Many of the investors and property owners who have purchased buildings in Sag Harbor were drawn to the same qualities that residents value: the charm, walkability, history, and unique character of the village. While landlords, business owners, and residents may not always share the same priorities, they do share an interest in maintaining a vibrant and successful Sag Harbor shopping area.
Perhaps the future of Sag Harbor depends less on regulations and more on collaboration. A roundtable discussion involving property owners, local businesses, Village officials, arts organizations, and community members could create opportunities to explore solutions that benefit everyone.
Meaningful solutions often begin when people who share a common interest sit down, listen to one another, and work toward a shared goal.
Nobody Wants To Stop Progress
One thing became clear throughout the discussion. Residents are not opposed to growth, investment, or progress. The conversation about Sag Harbor Village is not about stopping change. It is about managing change thoughtfully.
Sag Harbor has evolved for generations. Businesses have come and gone. Buildings have changed hands. New residents have arrived. Economic conditions have shifted. Change itself is not the concern.
The concern is whether growth can occur without sacrificing the qualities that make the village special. Residents want thriving businesses. Property owners deserve a return on their investment. Visitors support the local economy. New businesses create opportunities. The challenge is finding a balance that allows all of those interests to coexist.
A village that refuses to evolve risks stagnation. A village that evolves without intention risks losing its identity. Neither outcome serves the community.
The Future Of Sag Harbor Belongs To All Of Us
At its core, the discussion about Sag Harbor Village is really a discussion about community. It is about the independent business owner wondering if another rent increase is sustainable. It is about the property owner trying to make responsible financial decisions. It is about arts organizations that rely on year-round foot traffic. It is about residents who want to preserve the village they love.
The future of Sag Harbor cannot be shaped by any one group. It will require collaboration between Village leaders, business owners, landlords, investors, nonprofit organizations, and residents. The most encouraging takeaway from the recent discussion was not any single proposal. It was the fact that people showed up, listened, shared ideas, and demonstrated how much they care.
Anyone who has watched the sunset over the harbor, attended a local event, enjoyed a summer evening on Main Street, or run into neighbors while grabbing coffee understands what makes Sag Harbor special. The village is more than a collection of buildings and businesses. It is an experience, a culture, and a community.
The question is not whether Sag Harbor will change. The question is whether we can work together to ensure that future generations experience the same sense of place that has made Sag Harbor Village one of the most treasured communities on the East End.
SunLife Organics officially opened its doors in Sag Harbor, and if social media is any indication, people already have opinions.
The arrival of SunLife Organics has generated excitement, curiosity, and a healthy dose of skepticism from some locals. That reaction is not surprising. Sag Harbor residents have always been protective of the businesses that give the village its unique character. When a company with more than 20 locations nationwide moves into town, questions are bound to follow. The biggest question I keep hearing is simple: Is SunLife Organics a corporation? Founder Khalil Rafati says no.
During a recent conversation, Rafati addressed the criticism head-on. He explained that SunLife Organics does not operate like a traditional corporate chain. There is no corporate office, no assistant managing his schedule, and no executive team filled with business school graduates. Rafati describes the company as a mission-driven business built around community, wellness, and human connection.
That may sound surprising considering the growth of SunLife Organics, which now has locations across the country. Rafati acknowledges the contradiction. He understands why people see multiple locations and assume “corporate chain.” He simply believes the label does not reflect the culture he has worked to create.
The story behind SunLife Organics is part of what makes the brand different. Rafati openly shares his journey from addiction, homelessness, and incarceration to building a nationally recognized wellness company. He says the original goal was never to build an empire. The goal was to create the kind of place he personally wanted to visit. He envisioned a welcoming space where people could gather, enjoy high-quality organic food, and connect with one another.
That philosophy appears to be influencing the Sag Harbor location in a significant way. One of the most interesting aspects of the new SunLife Organics location is its decision to preserve part of what residents loved about Estia’s Little Kitchen. Rafati hired several former Estia’s employees and introduced fresh prepared food offerings, marking the company’s first venture into a full kitchen operation. Unlike other SunLife locations that focus primarily on smoothies, bowls, and wellness beverages, the Sag Harbor location is experimenting with something new.
That decision was intentional. Rafati said he wanted to honor the tradition of what existed in the space before. The menu will likely become one of the most talked-about aspects of SunLife Organics in Sag Harbor. Local residents have strong opinions when it comes to food. The former Estia’s customer base was loyal, passionate, and deeply connected to the restaurant. Replacing that kind of community institution is never easy. The space itself is also generating conversation. Visitors immediately notice the crystal wall and the large “Be Here Now” message displayed inside the store. For Rafati, those elements are more than design features. He describes them as reminders to slow down, put away distractions, and connect with the people around us. Whether you embrace that philosophy or roll your eyes at it, the message is certainly getting people talking. The outdoor space may end up becoming one of the location’s biggest assets. The property feels less like a quick stop for a smoothie and more like a gathering place. Community events, wellness programming, live music, and neighborhood meetups all seem like natural possibilities if the brand chooses to lean into the local culture.
The future of SunLife Organics in Sag Harbor may ultimately come down to one thing: community acceptance. Residents embraced Estia’s because it felt authentic. It felt local. It felt like Sag Harbor. The question now is whether SunLife Organics can create that same sense of belonging while carrying the baggage that often comes with being a nationally recognized brand.
Personally, I find the conversation fascinating. Many people will continue to argue that a company with more than 20 locations is, by definition, a corporation. Khalil Rafati would strongly disagree. His argument is that culture matters more than size.
Time will tell which perspective resonates most with Sag Harbor. One thing is certain. The village is watching. Real Talk. Real People. What do you think?
Will Sag Harbor embrace SunLife Organics the way it embraced Estia’s?
The Clouds, Quilts, Sand, and Stories That Stay With You
Some exhibitions are easy to walk through quickly. You take a few photos, glance at the artwork, and move on before you even reach the parking lot. Others stay with you long after you leave. Sanford Biggers: Drift at the Parrish Art Museum is one of those exhibitions.
Attending the opening TALK | SANFORD BIGGERS: DRIFT on May 16 with artist Sanford Biggers and Parrish Art Museum, Chief Curator Corinne Erni completely changed the experience for me. Hearing Biggers speak before walking through the galleries gave the exhibition an entirely different level of depth and emotional weight. Once I understood the meaning behind the clouds, quilts, sand installations, graffiti influences, Buddhism, and layered symbolism, the work immediately felt more personal and powerful. I was no longer simply looking at art. I was connecting to the stories inside it.
While walking through Sanford Biggers: Drift, I unexpectedly thought back to a visit I made years ago to Curaçao and the Kura Hulanda Museum. Standing inside a place once tied to the selling of enslaved people changes the way you look at objects forever. I remember learning there how textiles and handmade pieces often carried stories far deeper than decoration. Nothing felt accidental. Every object seemed to hold memory, survival, pain, culture, and resistance all at once.
That same feeling returned while walking through this exhibition. The work stopped feeling like something to simply observe and became something to feel.
The cloud motif runs throughout Sanford Biggers: Drift, beginning with the monumental ceiling installation Unsui (Cloud Forest). Clouds appear again in sculptures, paintings, quilt works, and even outside the Museum welcoming visitors before they enter. At first glance, the clouds feel peaceful and almost playful. After hearing Biggers explain their meaning, they begin to carry emotional weight connected to movement, freedom, spirituality, transformation, and memory.
During the artist talk, Biggers shared that clouds first entered his artistic language through graffiti culture in Los Angeles after seeing the iconic hip hop film Wild Style as a teenager. He described becoming immersed in graffiti, breakdancing, visual storytelling, and hip hop culture at a young age. Clouds became part of that visual vocabulary alongside bubble letters, arrows, shadows, and forced perspective.
Years later, while living in Japan and studying Buddhism, the cloud returned again in a spiritual context. Biggers spoke about learning the Buddhist term Unsui, loosely translating to “cloud water” or “sky water.” The term refers to monks who move through the world unattached and open to transformation.
That idea quietly follows you throughout the exhibition. Drift. Movement. Freedom. Becoming.
How Sanford Biggers Blends Buddhism, Hip Hop, Quilts, and American History Into One Powerful Exhibition
One of the most impressive aspects of Sanford Biggers: Drift is how naturally so many influences coexist within the work. Buddhism, Los Angeles graffiti culture, Gee’s Bend quilts, African sculpture, Japanese mandalas, breakdance floors, prayer rugs, and American history all flow together effortlessly. Nothing feels forced or overcrowded. Everything feels layered and intentional.
The quilt works especially stayed with me. Biggers’ Codex series uses antique quilts layered with paint, abstraction, symbols, and sculptural interventions. During the conversation, he discussed the long-rumored belief that quilts may have carried hidden codes for enslaved people escaping through the Underground Railroad. Whether fully documented or partially mythologized over time, Biggers embraces that uncertainty and describes these works as objects for “future ethnography.”
That phrase lingered in my mind long after I left the Museum.
Biggers is not simply preserving history. He is collaborating with it. He is adding another layer onto something that already carried generations of memory before it ever reached his hands.
The hip hop influence reappears here in a powerful way. Biggers compared the quilts to musical sampling. He described finding antique quilts almost like discovering an old James Brown record, then reshaping it, layering onto it, remixing it, and creating something entirely new without erasing where it came from.
That perspective completely changed the way I viewed the work. The quilts stopped feeling historical and started feeling alive.
The sand installation creates a similar emotional tension. At first glance, the work feels meditative and calm. Then you realize how fragile it actually is. One wrong movement could disrupt the entire piece. Inspired by Buddhist mandalas, prayer rugs, breakdance floors, and impermanence, the sand installation creates a sense of awareness inside the room that is difficult to explain until you experience it yourself.
Biggers also spoke about how performance exists inside the work itself. The making of the installation becomes performance. The viewer becomes part of the performance. Even the tension and silence inside the room become part of the artwork.
You can feel that tension while standing there.
The exhibition is part of the Parrish Museum’s larger USA250 initiative leading up to America’s 250th anniversary. Through Biggers’ work, ideas like life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness suddenly feel far more layered and complicated than the patriotic phrases people often reduce them to.
Who gets remembered?
Who gets erased?
Who gets freedom?
Who gets to pursue happiness?
The exhibition never forces answers onto the viewer. Instead, it quietly creates space for reflection.
That is what makes Sanford Biggers: Drift feel so important right now. The exhibition asks people to slow down, look deeper, and reconsider the stories we inherit and the stories we continue telling.
The Parrish Art Museum itself becomes part of the experience. The architecture, natural light, stone, shadows, sand, and even the Hamptons sky outside feel connected to the work unfolding inside the galleries.
Photos honestly cannot capture the feeling of this exhibition. You need to stand underneath the clouds. You need to see the texture of the quilts up close. You need to feel the silence surrounding the sand installation. You need to experience how the room changes once you begin understanding the layers beneath the surface.
Sanford Biggers: Drift does not scream for attention. It quietly changes the atmosphere around you before you even realize it.
Go see it.
Then go back and see it again. SANFORD BIGGERS: DRIFT at the Parrish Art Museum in Watermill, NY – May 17–September 13, 2026
Sunday, June 14, 2 PM | Artist-Led Tour during Community Day (free and open to all) Friday, July 24, 3 PM | Curator-Led Tour Sunday, August 16, 11:30 AM | Artist Talk Friday, September 4, 6 PM | Artist-Led Tour Friday, September 4, 7 PM | Member Closing Reception
