The catacombs of this urban cemetery are above ground, tunneled into a hillside in the 1850s, perhaps to allay Victoran-era fears of being buried alive. It’s in this clammy space assuring eternal rest that Heidi Lau has embedded a sculpture garden that nimbly bridges the terrestrial and the celestial. Her craggy, porous ceramics are hand built with archaic flair, as if hewn by wind and water. They recall spirit stones or scholar’s rocks: bones of the earth endowed with primordial energies. Some of Lau’s works reach for the mausoleum’s skylights; others cast moody penumbrae as they dangle from