Franklin Melendez

  • View of “The Man with the Golden Gun,” 2011.
    picks February 09, 2011

    Mrzyk & Moriceau

    “The Man With The Golden Gun,” the latest exhibition of husband-and-wife team Petra Mrzyk & Jean-François Moriceau, unfolds in the pair’s signature schizophrenic salon style, with a series of meticulous ink-on-paper drawings clustered together according to what seems like an exacting if inscrutable logic. The James Bond reference does little to illuminate the rebuslike arrangements that are juxtaposed against large-scale wall drawings and a looping video piece—though perhaps it foregrounds the question of style. Indeed, the work is largely indebted to the whimsy and starkness of 1960s graphic

  • View of “Chris Duncan,” 2010.

    Chris Duncan

    Chris Duncan’s latest exhibition, “Eye Against I,” opened with a makeshift, poster-covered wall, like one you might have seen at some grimy punk venue back in the ’90s. The gesture underscored the show’s title, a nod to the Washington, DC, hardcore band Bad Brains, and in particular to their anthem “I Against I.” The reference may be an oblique one for some, but it lends important context to this Oakland, California–based artist’s efforts. Throughout this show, and indeed his practice, Duncan mined questions of optics, partaking freely of techniques echoing the transcendental abstraction of Emma

  • Will Rogan

    Will Rogan’s first exhibition with Altman Siegel, “Stay Home,” presented a loose constellation of objects, including three small sculptures, a spread of six “erased” drawings, a piece comprising two prisms painted half-black and suspended at eye level in the window, and eleven handsome gelatin silver prints (all works 2010). Unlike his past efforts, which have explored the intersection between the quotidian and the fantastic (instances of what André Breton would have called “objective chance”), this latest foray stays true to its title, beginning with a series of photographs taken in and around

  • View of “Bell, Book, and Candle,” 2010.
    picks September 30, 2010

    Michael Guidetti

    “Bell, Book, and Candle,” Michael Guidetti’s second solo exhibition at Jancar Jones, transforms the gallery’s compact space into an elaborate though decidedly lo-fi special effects lab. The walls are covered in chroma-key green and punctuated with height markers and motion tracking balls. Gathered at the center of the room are several gadgets that monitor environmental shifts, including temperature, magnetic fields, light levels, and audio and video signals. On a small laptop, various digital renderings, virtual mappings, and animations of the space rotate continuously: Some feature floating

  • Rune Olsen, If only (study 2), 2010, acrylic on archival ink-jet print on photo paper, 9 1/2 x 13”.
    picks June 28, 2010

    Rune Olsen

    In his latest exhibition of prints and life-size sculptures, “If Only,” Rune Olsen swaps his usual menagerie of copulating beasts for a litter of tethered toddlers who weave a tangled, multicolored web through a gallery space. The installation is a nod to Duchamp’s Mile of String, in which the impish artist entangled Breton’s 1942 retrospective of Surrealism in a New York gallery and arranged for a number of children to play at the opening. This playful allegory of the clash between instinct and artifice provides the backdrop for the Brooklyn-based artist’s latest body of work, which is decidedly

  • Lucas Michael, Being Bree, 2010, still from a color video, 12 minutes 51 seconds.
    picks June 22, 2010

    Lucas Michael

    Lucas Michael’s latest exhibition presents a series of suggestive codes and partial ciphers that slowly but surely seduce viewers into his stark and insightful exploration of sexuality. As its title implies, “After Hours” treads on some nebulous terrain: The large-scale charcoal and graphite number drawings turn out to be one-to-one renderings of building signs for sex clubs; a series of soft sculptures, haphazardly arranged, come to evoke the commingling of bodies; and an imposing mirrored booth is in fact a replica of a glory hole. In each of these cases, Michael expertly subverts elements of

  • Miriam Böhm, Inventory VI, 2010, color photograph, 27 1/2 x 20 3/5”. From the series “Inventory,” 2010.
    picks April 12, 2010

    Miriam Böhm

    Miriam Böhm’s first solo exhibition, “Inventory,” consists of photographs of nondescript rectangular packages, mostly wrapped in brown paper and bubble wrap, which the artist has arranged, photographed, cut out, and rephotographed against vaguely bureaucratic backgrounds that evoke the doldrums of office cubicles. The resulting works are like Dutch still lifes reimagined in a UPS store. As the show’s title suggests, Böhm’s exacting vision is deployed as a critique of the art object: its reification and reduction into so many packages that are distributed via a myriad of avenues both old and new,

  • Left: Curators Helen Molesworth and Madeleine Grynsztejn. (Photo: Heather Wiley/Drew Altizer) Right: Collector Shirley Morales with artists Luc Tuymans and Carla Arocha. (Photo: Franklin Melendez)
    diary February 12, 2010

    Cool Hand Luc

    San Francisco

    SF MOMA MAY NOT have gone as far as other institutions to accommodate Luc Tuymans’s notorious smoking habit, but it certainly put its best foot forward to fete the second leg of the painter’s midcareer survey, which debuted at the Wexner Center last fall. In fact, so jovial was the mood on a mild Wednesday evening that it seemed to hint at other developments a-brewing. But despite the high spirits, mum was the word with the SF MoMA staff, who at the time would only tease of big news to come. Bigger than the retrospective’s sole West Coast engagement? Hard to believe—especially for the artist

  • Shannon Ebner, Leaf and Strike, 2009, chromogenic print, 8 x 12 3/8".
    picks January 20, 2010

    Shannon Ebner

    Shannon Ebner’s latest exhibition, “Signal Hill,” continues her semiotic adventures through photography. Here, Ebner transposes her willfully oblique hermeneutics to immaterial spaces, via a series of disparate gestures and ambiguous indices: her stark large-scale photographs, cement-block sculpture, and, most notably, photo-based wallpaper printed with the repeating phrase THE ECSTATICAL ALPHABET. Through these, she advances some familiar preoccupations, ostensibly the constructedness of language, its ephemeral materiality, and the slippage of meaning. Less overtly political than previous