Daniela Salvioni

  • Lyle Ashton Harris/Thomas Allen Harris

    ALCHEMY is the first major collaboration of the artists Lyle Ashton Harris, who works in photography and installation, and Thomas Allen Harris, who works in film and video. The brothers subdivided the gallery into a series of intimate, flowing spaces to house nine Cibachrome photographs and three film-to-digital-videodisc projections that bring African themes into an installation-art context. Entering the gallery, we come face-to-face with Untitled (Mother), 1998, a striking figure in profile whose gaze guides us toward another photograph on a far wall, Untitled (Orisha Study), 1994–98. The

  • Tony Labat

    Tony Labat’s work has taken many different forms over the years—mixed-media installations, video, painting, and sculpture. Invariably it has a performance component, one that stems from the conceptual lineage of Chris Burden, Vito Acconci, and Bruce Nauman, whose work in the ’70s questioned the institutional limits of art through radical experimentation. My favorite example of Labat’s ability to intertwine analytic and experiential modes within a highly personal thematic is a year—long project from 1981 in which he trained to become a boxer and fought a professional bout, dressing in drag

  • Nayland Blake

    For this recent show, Nayland Blake exhibited the results of a grueling self-imposed task: to produce one artwork per day for a month. Despite the fact that no single piece represents a sustained effort—A Week of White Skin Masks (4-20-97) (all works 1997), a set of white rabbit pelts hung from a rope traversing the ceiling, is decidedly lightweight—what is remarkable is that most of the work on view is noteworthy in one way or another. The effortless-seeming wall piece Found Ghost (4-28-9), consisting of nothing more than a gauzy white kerchief arranged to suggest a rabbit’s head, is a case in

  • Katharina Fritsch

    Katharina Fritsch’s first midcareer survey was a succinct assembly of “greatest hits”: eight works drawn from her entire career, including Warengestell mit Madonnen (Display stand with Madonnas, 1987–89), Tischgesellschaft (Company at table, 1988), and Mann und Maus (Man and mouse, 1991–92). Her first full-blown sculpture, Warengestell, 1979–84, a display stand holding several small objects—including a Madonna figurine, a water mill, and circular shapes—already incorporated many of the motifs on which she would later elaborate. Also on view was Kind mit Pudeln (Child with poodles, 1995–96), a


    CHRIS ISNER’S ART IS about the body and its tribulations and pleasures, but unlike other body artists—Robert Gober, Kiki Smith, Matthew Barney—his work does not flow from inside to out- side; he’s not bringing something lurking within to the surface. The interiority or psychology in his work is no deeper than a cut in the skin. “Surface” for Isner does not mean “superficial”; it is the site of meaning, having the same relevance as a good tattoo an acquired externality that encapsulates and symbolizes the person it adorns.

    Skin is the central trope in Isner’s work, and is figured in various ways,