Brendan Earley

A rare sunny morning in London: This would be pleasant if it weren’t a reminder of hastening climate apocalypse. In this diffused light, the pastel palette and minimal sculptures of Brendan Earley’s “Elsewhere and Other Things” at first seem cynically palliative—an injection of millennial pink, a meditation retreat amid alarm bells. Under closer scrutiny, the soothing sentiment starts to decay. Take the A Train, 2018, involves two baby-blue aluminum rings, lonely in their separate orbits. In The Runner, also 2018, an aluminum arch flirts with anthropomorphism, one “foot” caught in a metal cast

picks February 06, 2019

Ryan Sullivan

Ryan Sullivan’s name doesn’t manage to crop up in the 1,400-word press release for “one minute’s music, one minute’s time,” his third solo exhibition here. To the uninitiated, the text accompanying the show echoes a dissertation on the history of jazz. But as is so often the case, in saying nothing about his practice, the press release says everything: Bill Evans’s “Jazz-Process,” the subject of this theoretical treatise, is given visual form across Sullivan’s fluid, shambolic surfaces.

Several of these cast-resin pieces stretch nearly from floor to ceiling, morphing and divulging greater detail