Installation View. Phong H. Bui and Sol LeWitt. Craig Starr Gallery (1)
For both Phong Bui and Sol LeWitt, the line is a democratizing gesture. The line as a line: a mark; steering focus towards the method of an image’s creation rather than convincing the viewer of the realism of its ultimate subject. And, at least for both of these artists, this means we begin to deal with units. With LeWitt, the unit is the geometric shape — a square, cube, or even a diagram-a nugget of information, often placed within another diagram, offering multiple levels in the narrative of the work’s process and arrangement.
Jaqueline Cedar, Dusk, 2024, acrylic on panel, 10”x8”
At Andrew Rafacz, Jaqueline Cedar’s Slide delivers small paintings with big temporal ambition. In her first Chicago solo show, the artist captures time not as a line but a loop—blurred, fragmented, and thick with atmosphere. Figures flicker in and out of clarity; gestures repeat like memories misfiring. The intimacy of scale invites close-contact peering, while layered forms resist quick comprehension. It’s a slow burn of perceptual dissonance, pitched somewhere between deep dreaming and déjà vu. In many ways, Cedar paints observation itself—its rhythms, glitches, and gaps—inviting us to dwell in the space between glancing and seeing.
Lorna Simpson, did time elapse, 2024, acrylic and screenprint on gessoes fiberglass @Lorna Simpson
Cecilia Vicuña, Lorna Simpson and Nour Mobarak powerfully and eloquently broach heavy subject matter with diligent research in their attempts to preserve significant stories amidst the burdens of colonialism. Each artist speaks to various experiences as they contend with complicated histories of peoples, lands, and the dynamics between them in an array of circumstances. These exhibitions take on the task of engaging with past and present, depicting resourcefulness and perseverance amid the tangled threads of imperialism that wreak havoc across the globe. Viewers are offered context as they enter works that embody life through organic matter, curious objects, and ethereal modalities.
In Running Line, on view at FORMah gallery, objects stripped of function take on new roles: charged, amorphous, and poetic. Israeli artist Noga Yudkovik-Etzioni creates a space where memory, material, and form converge through elongated installations on the floor and a series of small wall-mounted paper-based reliefs
Rarely has there been a group of people as uniformly elegant and graceful as those who inhabit Lubaina Himid’s paintings, currently on view at Greene Naftali in Chelsea. Entitled Street Sellers, Himid has created a group of large, figurative paintings that pulse with vibrant color and life. These graceful, solo figures proudly present their wares to us–eggs, birds, musical instruments, and fish, as they move through the landscape.
I haven’t seen Rachel MacFarlane’s painting Sliver (2020). It would be reasonable to assume that I had, because Sliver is the centerpiece of Paradise, the show that this review is about. In fact, Sliver is the only painting in Paradise.
Wonderfully striking in bright luminosities, diagonal analogousness, situational room-to-room parallels, transporting suggestiveness and subtly warmed circumstantial frigidities are the two installations ‘contained,’ in a way, by “A Continuous Stream of Occurrence,” an exhibition that opened a few weeks ago at Maspeth gem The Knockdown Center .
At top is Luba Drozd‘s room. It both looks and sounds like a veritable spatial knot of brilliantly site-specific polyphonia involving significant degrees of multidisciplinarity, multimateriality and strata within circumstantial strata of shadow-play. It’s a tough but fun knot to look at and into, and listen closely to, to begin to untie just how it works with totality and relative simplicity, though not in ways simplistic in the least.
Rather than necessarily site-specific or sonic, the active state of William Lamsom‘s installation in the adjacent gallery is like that of a shimmering, gradually phase-changing antechamber to Drozd’s comparative cavern; they scan instantly as visually coherent in many satisfying and still individualizable ways. Entering Lamsom’s room alone is like stumbling into an abandoned research lab in a yearless future. Seeing the rooms in tandem is like being dropped in some nicely mysterious nook on Krypton and having no idea why.
Great installations, great show. Curated by a duo going by the ‘name’ XP (@xaviacarin & @parkcmyers).
Joanne Ungar at Front Room, partial installation view
Pain produces sharp, bright sensations or sometimes ripping agony. It’s often intensely specific. The substances that bring us relief often do so by blurring the hard angles of our pain, allowing us to focus elsewhere. Some substances can leave us in a disconnected fog, far away from the source of discomfort. Others mute and muffle the pain, giving the relieved a sense of floating in a cushioned world. Calibrating effective pain relief can be a struggle for balance between an alert connection to the present and a silencing of uncomfortable sensation. Continue reading “Ethereal Anaesthetic”
SRO Gallery, M. David & Co., ODETTA, Klaus Von Nichtssagend
SRO Gallery
Cathy Diamond at SRO Gallery, photo courtesy of the gallery
Dozens of warmly chromatic landscapes with hints of fantasy and abstract intrigue are on view in “Unextinguished,” a kind of amuse-bouche of a genre-specific group show that opened at SRO Gallery a couple weeks ago. It features a great many paintings, and a great many relatively literal as well as apparently non-objective takes on landscapes by Sahand Tabatabai, Sheila Lanham , Cathy Diamond , Moses Hoskins, Cathy Nan Quinlan and Cecilia Whittaker-Doe. If you need a respite from the drudgery of winter (I always do), head over to SRO.
Photos by Sharilyn Neidhardt, unless otherwise indicated
A show of swirling color and geometry finds ways to discuss complicated issues of violence and social collapse.
What drew me to ODETTA on a very chilly Saturday were the colorful, pagoda-like structures in the main space. Human-scale structures that echo lanterns or birdcages are covered in awkward spiky garlands of colored plastic tubes. The festive air created by the riot of bright color seems fun at first, and it’s only on second inspection that a viewer realizes the color is coming from spent shotgun shells.
Margaret Roleke, ‘pop pop’ (installation view) spent shot gun shells, wire, zipties, steel boxes. 2 boxes each approx. 9’h x 5’w x 5’d
