
Amy Stober
Much has been done with unconventional painting supports, yet the fourteen wall-mounted works in Amy Stober’s assured solo debut resuscitate the idiom in a number of clever and kinky ways. The artist’s primary material is polyurethane resin, which she casts from handbags found in those titillating repositories for unloved effluvia, thrift stores and eBay. Their leathery exteriors are oddly sensual, like the surface of a new dildo. But these protuberant forms—whose openings face the wall as if, lampreylike, they’re suctioned to it—don’t aim to please. In fact, they’re perplexing as hell, especially