With Quiet Exit, Nick Doyle transforms a ubiquitous object of public signage into a quietly biting commentary on American ideals of freedom, masculinity, and escape. Rendered in meticulously collaged denim—a material Doyle has made central to his practice—the work blurs the line between sincerity and satire. At first glance, the piece appears straightforward: an exit sign, clean and legible, doing its job. But like much of Doyle’s work, it’s doing something else entirely under the surface.

Denim, long associated with blue-collar labor and rugged self-reliance, becomes Doyle’s stand-in for American mythology. By cloaking banal objects like vending machines, briefcases, and now an EXIT sign in this iconic fabric, he asks what these symbols really mean—especially in a culture that sells the illusion of freedom while reinforcing the structures that limit it. The piece references the road trip, the office escape fantasy, the lure of a new frontier—all themes Doyle has explored across his career—but here, the invitation to “exit” feels more existential. Where are we supposed to go, exactly?

Doyle’s work is infused with a dry humor that resists easy moralizing. His Exit doesn’t scream revolution; it quietly shrugs at the absurdity of always chasing a way out. Using craftsmanship that borders on obsessive, he wraps up critique in the familiar trappings of Americana, inviting viewers to laugh, reflect, and reconsider the myths we live with—and buy into.

In Doyle’s hands, even a sign pointing to the door becomes a kind of trap. Or maybe, a joke. Or maybe, both.