Esmé Hogeveen

  • picks May 18, 2020

    Spring Hurlbut

    During week six of isolation, I heard a man yelling, “Black holes! Black holes!” into a train yard. The following week, I saw Spring Hurlbut’s “Dyadic Circles” in the Georgia Scherman Projects online viewing room, and the man’s cries came into eclipse-like focus.

    The photographs in “Dyadic Circles” inevitably read as somber: Each depicts a neatly bisected circle of funerary ash from humans or animals arranged on a square black background that recalls the zero-point energy of Malevich’s Black Square, 1915. The halves of each vertically divided sphere are different tones of shimmering gray or sandy

  • picks November 20, 2019

    Eric N. Mack

    Eric N. Mack’s sewn, taped, painted, bleached, and dyed assemblages evoke the ephemeral architectures of circuses, children’s forts, and encampments as much as the decorative vocabulary of high fashion. With their altered, locally gathered, secondhand materials, the works pose questions about the reasons, from playful to desperate, behind building precarious structures. 

    Paramount, 2015, the largest hanging piece on view, is suspended by ropes in the center of the gallery. Its sail-like rectangular swath of fabric is almost always visible as one moves throughout the space, and functions as a

  • picks May 13, 2019

    Anne Low

    Anne Low’s exhibition at Franz Kaka, a basement-level gallery, is sparse and winsome. At once obliging and testing the parameters of a subterranean space, her works—which include a maple-and-basswood chair with carved zoomorphic details (Chair for a woman, 2018); a handwoven rolled mattress (Dust bed, 2018); and a car tire shrouded in hand-dyed, handwoven pink silk (Tire bag, 2019)—feel half-forgotten, as if they were left behind in a storage unit.

    The title of Low’s show, “Bletting,” describes the process whereby fruit softens, ripens, and eventually rots, which aptly summarizes the atmosphere

  • picks March 18, 2019

    Kara Hamilton

    Kara Hamilton’s “Water in Two Colours” consists of three biomorphic sculptures, a delicate human-size crown, and a takeaway text by writer Raimundas Malašauskas, each of which explores what the artist calls “jewellery for architecture.” Hamilton draws on her training in both architecture and design to pose questions about value and its representation; her works are made of brass, aluminum, silver, gold, fool’s gold, diamonds, pearl, and concrete. The large-scale pieces are fleshly: Two brass elevator doors are reconfigured into forms reminiscent of cetacean tongues in states of repose (Purple