Chloe Wyma

  • View of “Amy Yao: Weeds of Indifference,” 2017.
    picks September 15, 2017

    Amy Yao

    At the entrance of Amy Yao’s exhibition here, the viewer is blocked by a chain-link fence draped with laser-cut, red-and-yellow, faux-silk brocade. Though the work’s title, Foreign Investments (Bottarga in Costa Mesa) (all works 2017), refers to a city in Orange County south of Yao’s Los Angeles home, the swags of low-rent chinoiserie index the gallery’s address at the crux of Manhattan’s Lower East Side and its rapidly gentrifying Chinatown. Two smaller draped fences—Foreign Investments (Good Ramen) and Foreign Investments (Baked Alaska)—likewise work as metonyms for the real and symbolic

  • Sonja Sekula, Ethnique, 1961, gouache on paper, 20 1/8“ × 20 1/8”.

    Sonja Sekula

    “Everyone from the fifties in New York has a Sonja Sekula story,” Brian O’Doherty wrote in 1971, “yet, though she contributed to period mythology, she herself has no myth.” “Sonja Sekula: A Survey,” the first New York solo exhibition of the artist’s work in more than twenty years, begins to construct one after decades of relative obscurity.

    The daughter of a Hungarian philatelist and a Swiss confectionery heiress, Sekula was born into wealth and privilege in Lucerne, Switzerland, in 1918, moving to New York when she was eighteen. In the 1940s, she showed with Betty Parsons and Peggy Guggenheim

  • Jibade-Khalil Huffman, Figuration (A), 2017, single-channel video, color, sound, 20 minutes.
    picks June 16, 2017

    Jibade-Khalil Huffman

    “Due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult.” This disclaimer, lifted from Michael Jackson’s 1982 Thriller video, serves as the epigraph to Figuration (A), 2017, the title work of Jibade-Khalil Huffman’s exhibition. The single-channel video is a mediatic dumpster dive through the not-yet-historical past, its fantasia of purloined images flowing to an interruptive, channel-surfing logic. A petite Darth Vader superimposed on a young Seth Rogen’s audition tape; the opening credits of the 1980s African American sitcom Amen; Rick

  • Honoré Sharrer, Reception, 1958, oil on canvas, 22 1/2 × 30''.
    picks May 07, 2017

    Honoré Sharrer

    This survey of Honoré Sharrer’s work recovers an artist long eclipsed by Cold War cultural politics, bringing her lapidary naturalism out from the overlapping shadows of Joseph McCarthy and Clement Greenberg. Workers and Paintings, 1942, places a group of men, women, and children against a low-slung townscape, its horizontal orientation and muddy monochromy reminiscent of Courbet’s Burial at Ornans. In the frieze, unidealized, hard-faced figures carry framed pictures by Bruegel, Daumier, Rivera, and Picasso (Sharrer delighted in burlesquing other artworks inside her own). But the relation between

  • View of “Lynn Hershman Leeson: Remote Controls,” 2017.
    picks February 17, 2017

    Lynn Hershman Leeson

    Seated in overstuffed leopard-print armchairs, visitors to Lynn Hershman Leeson’s second solo exhibition at the gallery navigate, via remote control, the dumpy virtual living room of Lorna, a middle-aged agoraphobe whose experience of the world is entirely mediated through her television. Clicking on various objects unlocks bits and pieces of a schmaltzy vernacular media culture, such as boozy cowboy ballads, daytime talk shows, televangelical sermons, and amateur music videos. In one of the game’s three possible endings, its lonely heroine commits suicide.

    The first interactive videodisk, Lorna

  • Rosemary Mayer, The Catherines, 1972–73, fabric, wood, dye, 120 x 72 x 48”.
    picks November 04, 2016

    Rosemary Mayer

    Between 1969 and 1973, Rosemary Mayer’s art underwent a dramatic transition. Abetted by the arrival of feminism, its investment in the body and the recuperation of craft, the laconic beauty of her early text-based works effloresced into the voluptuous fabric sculptures for which she is best remembered. Curated by art historian Maika Pollack, the gallery’s founder, with Marie and Max Warsh—Mayer’s niece and nephew—this exhibition tells the story of this sea change while also shining a light on a significant yet under-recognized figure in feminist and post-Minimalist art.

    During the late sixties,

  • Aki Sasamoto, Shoelightbox, 2016, shoe boxes, LEDs, ink-jet prints on tissue paper, dimensions variable.
    picks October 21, 2016

    Aki Sasamoto

    Lodged in the cavity of a commercial-grade washing machine in Aki Sasamoto’s installation Washer (all works cited, 2016) is a copy of the Book of Insects (1921) by nineteenth-century entomologist John-Henri Fabre. The volume is open to a passage on the life and labors of the dung beetle, which is recited off-camera by the artist in the single-channel video Birds, Dung Beetles, the Washer looping overhead. “The peasant of Ancient Egypt,” it reads, “as he watered his patch of onions in the spring, would see from time to time a fat black insect pass close by, hurriedly trundling a ball backwards.”

  • Marianne Vitale, How’m-I-Doin’ (detail), 2016, pine, oil paint, hardware, 13 x 8 x 8'.
    picks September 16, 2016

    Marianne Vitale

    Handcrafted wooden torpedoes, suspended from the ceiling by wires, and souped up with American kitsch—a cow, a car, and camo—mark an intriguing detour, if not a new direction, in Marianne Vitale’s art. If the big, handsome sculptures made from salvaged lumber for which she is best known are strong, silent types, How’m-I-Doin’, 2016, her new installation of ten hand-painted projectiles, is comic, even a little snarky. Here, the splintery romance that characterized Vitale’s countrified totems of postindustrial wreckage is jettisoned for colorful, willfully naive Pop and playful satire. A bovine

  • Alma Thomas, Snoopy Sees Earth Wrapped in Sunset, 1970, acrylic on canvas, 48 × 48".
    picks August 05, 2016

    Alma Thomas

    Among her kaleidoscopic abstractions of botanical and celestial phenomena, a statement by Alma Thomas is stenciled on the museum wall: “Through color, I have sought to concentrate on beauty and happiness, rather than on man’s inhumanity to man.” Taken axiomatically, this might read as Pollyanna denial or cool aestheticism. But in their claim to universal subjectivity and transcendent beauty, there’s an indisputable if paradoxical politics in the paintings of the late Washington, DC, abstractionist, who—at the age of eighty, in 1972—became the first African American woman to have a solo show at