Cathleen Chaffee


    VISITORS COULD BE FORGIVEN if they walked by one particular piece of yellowing paper in the first gallery of Joëlle Tuerlinckx’s retrospective at the Haus der Kunst, Munich: a tiny drawing of a red fish. Like almost all the works on view, this drawing was essentially unlabeled, with only its date, 1963, penciled by the artist on a nearby wall. Tuerlinckx, who was born in Brussels in 1958, considers this spiky red fish to be her earliest gesture as an artist, owing to a simple line she drew around it on the page. Without it, the fish floats, Platonic, in an ideated paper sea. The line locates

  • picks November 28, 2009

    Joëlle Tuerlinckx

    The diverse modes of Joëlle Tuerlinckx’s practice can be glimpsed through her relation to the very different functions of two museum spaces belonging to the Reina Sofía. In the middle of Madrid’s Parque del Buen Retiro stands the Palacio de Cristal, a steel and glass pavilion originally designed for an 1887 Colonial exposition. There, Tuerlincx has planted several homemade “compasses” constructed from glass bottles and ready-made elements. The result of the artist’s research into navigation, weather, and crystallography, the compasses are based on improvised navigational tools, even if they

  • picks November 10, 2009

    Marcel Broodthaers

    Marcel Broodthaers conceived of the 1974 work Ne dites pas que je ne l’ai pas dit—Le Perroquet (Don’t Say I Didn’t Say So—The Parrot) as a setting for the presentation of the small book marking his solo exhibition at Antwerp’s Wide White Space Gallery. The 1974 booklet, Moules Oeufs Frites Pots Charbon Perroquets (Mussels Eggs Fries Pots Coal Parrots), was, in turn, a slightly altered reprint of the artist’s 1966 exhibition catalogue at the same gallery: Moules Oeufs Frites Pots Charbon. The addition of “Parrots” to the book’s title referred to the elements installed next to a table displaying

  • picks August 13, 2009

    “Mirror Me”

    Conversations between Brandon Stosuy and Kai Althoff about repulsion and fandom led to “Mirror Me,” a summer exhibition in three cumulative parts. Stosuy first invited Philip Best and Peter Sotos, both at one time members of the power-electronics group Whitehouse, to show works. In each of Best’s collages, violent or apocalyptic magazine images are pasted up according to a grid. Chicago-based writer Sotos contributed punishing videos of televised brutality and pornography.

    For the next phase, Lionel Maunz’s heraldic black resin sculptures of ritualistic implements began changing the gallery into