Lin Tyrpien is a New York–based curator and creative director reimagining what a modern-day gallery can be. As the founder of Lyle Gallery, she champions women, nonbinary, and queer artists and designers, creating new ways for audiences to connect with art and design. Her curatorial projects have been highlighted by The New York Times, Wallpaper, Sight Unseen, and Marie Claire.

Find Lin and Lyle Gallery on Instagram at @lin.tyrpien and @lyle.gallery.

We first met Lin Tyrpien this past May during New York Design Week, when we introduced our Long-Haired Sconces at her gallery, Lyle, in Outside/In, a thoughtful and deeply considered exhibition she co-curated. It was one of those rare, expansive experiences that left us wanting more: more Lin, more Lyle, more of the clarity and care that radiated through every detail of the show. We connected with Lin instantly. There was a sharp intelligence and bright curiosity in the way she held space for artists and ideas, always paired with a generous warmth and softness that stayed with us.

In just over a year, Lyle Gallery has become a site of true experimentation and tenderness. Lin has hosted important exhibitions with a wide range of artists, often quietly redefining what a contemporary gallery can feel like. In this month’s interview, we’re honored to share Lin’s words - on curating as a lifelong instinct, on following many passions, and on building a space where stories, materials, and people come together with intention.

Utharaa: Tell us about your curatorial practice. Do you see it as your art, your work, or both?

Lin: For me, curation is both art and work. Sometimes it feels like play—especially when I’m in the gallery moving objects, testing placements, and imagining how people will experience the space. That comes from my background in exhibition and spatial design, where I learned to think about how every detail works together in a room. Those instincts now carry into my curatorial work, where I’m also considering the hero moments that will tell a show’s story through photography and marketing.

*The New York Times coverage of Outside/In, Lyle Gallery, May 2025*

With Lyle, I get to merge that hands-on, spatial side with big-picture thinking: developing a thematic throughline for each show, championing artists, and shaping the gallery’s creative direction.

In a way, I’ve been curating my whole life. In my early childhood, I would create these elaborate vignettes for my sister’s Beanie Babies and photograph them with a disposable camera. Lyle feels like the grown-up version of that but now with important artworks and objects. I love connecting ideas, histories, and aesthetics into something cohesive and alive. My goal is for people to leave not only inspired by the work, but also more connected to the stories, people, and ideas behind it.

*Installation view of works by Studio Tenjung, Inderjeet Sandhu, and Aliyah Salmon at Outside/In, Lyle Gallery*

Utharaa: What pulls you in when you encounter a new body of work? Is there a thread that connects the work you’re drawn to?

Lin: Storytelling is always what pulls me in first. It’s how we connect as people. It turns something complex into something we can understand and remember. I’m also wired for pattern recognition. When I hear an artist talk about their work and it connects in some way—through a theme, a material, or even just a color—to something else I’ve recently seen or heard, my senses light up. I start to feel there’s a thread there worth following, and I think about how that work might live in conversation with others. That sense of connection across time, ideas, and mediums is what excites me most, and it’s something I want to lean into even more in the next year of Lyle.

*Installation view of Outside/In at Lyle Gallery, featuring works by Vy Voi Studio, Unown Space, soft-geometry and Tanuvi Hegde*

Utharaa: Do you have one great passion, or many?

Lin: I’ve never had just one great passion. Honestly, I sometimes wish I did. I’m the complete opposite, which is probably why I’ve had so many different jobs and careers. In a way, that’s how I ended up opening Lyle. It’s the one place where I can bring all those passions together and direct them toward something bigger.

Over the years, I’ve wanted to be a photographer, curator, travel photographer, creative director, digital nomad, exhibition designer, event designer, photojournalist, guesthouse owner, surfer in Bali, bell maker in an experimental desert city, antique picker, puppeteer, performer, the list goes on. My wife used to laugh (and maybe roll her eyes) at how often I would change jobs to follow the next passion. Now I funnel all of that into Lyle. It’s a space where I get to do bits of everything I have ever loved, just in a more focused and cohesive way.

*Lin Tyrpien at Lyle Gallery with the Long-Haired Sconce by soft-geometry and the Souvenir Floor Lamp by Kawabe*

Utharaa: Do you think about ‘softness’ at all? Your presence feels unguarded, generous, and open — qualities that can feel rare for a New York gallerist. Do you think you’re softer than the norm?

Lin: Ah, that’s such a sweet thing to hear. I’ve lived in New York for 17 years, so you’d think some of that classic New York edge would have rubbed off on me by now. Maybe it’s the INFJ on the Myers–Briggs, the Enneagram 7, Aries sun, Cancer moon, Virgo rising combination. Or maybe it’s just that no one wants to work with a jerk. ;)

*Scenes from the press breakfast opening of Outside/In at Lyle Gallery, May 2025*

Utharaa: What do you wish was different?

Lin: One thing I’ve noticed is that when you start a gallery, no one calls it a startup. But when I launched Lyle, it felt exactly like building a startup—only with the expectations of a traditional gallery. The word “gallery” comes with a mold you’re expected to fit into, which can make innovation harder. I’ve always thought of Lyle as a prototype, and this next year I want to push that idea further. I want to experiment with how a small, scrappy operation can compete with the big players while showing up in new, unexpected ways.

More broadly, I wish there was a cultural shift in how we value the arts as a whole. During COVID, we turned to artists and creatives for connection, comfort, and meaning. Yet we still live in a culture where “starving artist” is an accepted phrase. It shouldn’t be that way. The arts are often the first thing to be cut in schools—not just visual art, but music, dance, writing, and theater. And from personal experience, I know what creative roles get paid compared to other industries, despite the fact that creatives are born with an unteachable talent that brings joy, beauty, and meaning into the world. I want to help bring back the kind of public support and value for the arts that once existed. Support your local artists and creatives.

The Long-Haired Sconces as seen at Lyle