TaThaTa

TaThaTa sits on a quiet stretch of Henry Street, in a tiny storefront tucked between residential buildings and galleries. The light pours in, and the architecture is unassuming—it doesn’t look much different from the spaces around it. But that’s just as it should be.

This gallery takes its name from the Sanskrit term for “suchness,” which translates to things just as they are, before all the human explaining gets in the way. Say TaThaTa out loud. It has a playful musicality, like a little drumbeat with a hint of Dada. The name is easier to say than the idea is to pin down.

The art here invites you into the present, asking you to slow down and pay attention. We’ve seen an artist counting a giant pile of leaves out loud, one by one. Mesmerizing. And flexible aluminum ducting that makes alarming sounds inspired by animal breathing patterns.

These are exhibitions that don’t translate well to a screen. They ask to be experienced in person, reminding you there’s nothing to solve and nowhere else to be. In a world moving at double speed, this feels like a total relief.

Xiao Liu opened TaThaTa in March 2026. Born and raised in Chengdu, he grew up with Buddhist cultural influences before coming to New York to study art at Pratt and Parsons. After a period back home, Liu returned to New York to pursue an interdisciplinary humanities degree at NYU, focusing on art history, East Asian studies, and the history of science. TaThaTa grew out of his decision to set aside his own practice and create a space for art that rewards attention, physical presence, and the experience of being together.