Kate Newby at Kunsthalle Wien

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"deploys her fragmented gestures in the service of a greater alchemy," chipping away at the artistic monument, further granularized to finer and finer pocks and us finally all staring at noise like a church for sensitivity training - commanded to the virtue of noticing.  Like if you removed all the signs from the world asserting "scenic view ahead." As if we could consider it all so. There is no thing to see, no "main thing." Just a forest and trying see every tree for it, any sufficiently complex sidewalk is indistinguishable from art.


see too: Michael E. Smith at 500 Capp Street Foundation

Camille Henrot at Kunsthalle Wien

 
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Henrot's object incongruence: material tension whose fault lines irrupt laughter. It's a comedy, acting sculpturally stupid, where material images don't add up. Henrot stretches sculptural sense like a cartoon mouse avoiding the axe, inducing cackles in children, material truth replaced with a clown. Who represents us today.



See too: “Puddle, pothole, portal” at Sculpture Center, Alicja Kwade at Kunstmuseum St. Gallen,  Camille Henrot at Metro Pictures,