Lois E. Nesbitt

  • Ilya Kabakov

    Ilya Kabakov is known to American audiences for elaborate installations such as Ten Characters, 1988, in which the artist constructed an almost life-size Soviet communal apartment inhabited by characters such as “The Man Who Flew Into Space From His Apartment.” The range of imaginative strategies employed by Kabakov’s invented characters read as parodies of various modes of avant-garde art, from collage to process art, for each character left physical traces of his guiding obsession.

    The combination of high art and lowly existence appears again in the current exhibition. For Installation I, My

  • Peter Greenaway

    An ornithologist, recently taken ill, is given or discovers among his possessions a number of maps, which seem to indicate the path for a journey through or toward a place called H. The place may represent heaven or hell, neither or both. Such is the scenario of Peter Greenaway’s 1978 film A Walk Through H: The Reincarnation of an Ornithologist, for which the artist prepared the drawings in this show. The maps, drawn or painted on such diverse surfaces as a laundry bag, a disposable medical glove, and a musical score, are not cartographic in the strict sense. Dense layering of existing and

  • Ron Rhodes

    Ron Rhodes began constructing spare miniature architectural interiors some years before he was diagnosed as having AIDS. Rhodes’ awareness that he was dying prompted him to use this same format to explore the theme of the stations of the cross. Meticulously realized architectural forms—domestic , industrial, religious, or public—make up the core of his early work. Gabriel, 1982, is an apartment kitchen or living room complete with a table on which lie the dishes and utensils of an abandoned meal; House of the Deer, Segment VI, 1984, is an elongated industrial space reminiscent of a ship’s boiler

  • Nancy Shaver

    Nancy Shaver groups found objects, primarily domestic items like coffeepots, dishes, and decorative bric-a-brac, with paintings by naive artists and reproductions of works by artists such as Cézanne and Gauguin, creating loose sculptural ensembles. In some cases the images cluster on the wall, like the groupings seen on suburban staircases; elsewhere they spill onto the floor and out into the room. In Art (all works, 1989), a row of paintings ranging from red-on-red abstractions to still lifes to a framed reproduction of Cézanne’s card-players stretches out across the wall; a coffeepot and dishes

  • Sue Coe

    In the 60 drawings comprising “Porkopolis,” Sue Coe, who in the past has created works dealing with politically charged subjects from the Ku Klux Klan to rape, turns her considerable energies as researcher and graphic artist to this country’s meat industry. Coe intends the project to update The Jungle, Upton Sinclair’s 1906 literary account of the same subject. Though Coe focuses on the animals rather than the factory workers as victims, her images argue that things have only gotten worse for both.

    The black and white watercolor-and-graphite images, many done from life (Coe visited farms and meat

  • Ida Applebroog

    Over the last few years, Ida Applebroog has been moving away from her signature non-narrative comic-strip works showing featureless figures to larger, more painterly panels and more complex compositions. The large paintings shown here reflect this shift: certain scenes are reminiscent of her early work, but often, as in Lithium Square, 1988, figures emerge from tight frames and enter the larger panels, as though the artist were eager to blur the boundaries of the two phases.

    Applebroog’s small and large figures include men, women, kids, and animals, often engaged in actions so ordinary—sipping

  • David Ireland

    For some years now, beginning with the dissection and reconstruction of his own San Francisco house, David Ireland has been exploring the potential of mundane objects and environments to tell stories. The often decrepit materials of his sculptures and installations evoke the tragic dimension of the passage of time—decay, dissolution, loss—and our helplessness before such forces. The works shown here continue in this vein. Untitled Tub of Relics. Produced in Action, “Studio” at the Fabric Work Shop, Philadelphia, 1989, is a waist-high box containing various items. Though the objects inside—mounds

  • Jacques Villegle

    Jacques Villeglé’s collages teeter on the border between art and nonart, composition and chaos. The artist makes his work by tearing posters from the Paris streets and neatly mounting and framing the shredded, layered images. Unfortunately, Villeglé’s images lack both the distilled quality of more studied art and the ragged beauty of the posters in their original contexts—plastered to soot-darkened walls, subject to changes in light and weather, competing for attention with the grinding noise of cars and buses and the blinking of traffic lights.

    Mimmo Rotella, and Raymond Hains, members of the

  • IRWIN

    IRWIN is a five-member collaborative of artists from northern Yugoslavia that produces complex works as part of a highly polemical cultural program. It was first introduced to New York audiences last year in a show including over 100 works, hung salon-style, which borrow imagery from sources as disparate as Nazi propaganda, religious icons, and 20th-century art from Suprematism to Social Realism. IRWIN also disseminated manifestolike statements explaining its participation in Neue Slovenische Kunst (New Slovenian Art), a 60-member collaborative, including a rock band and theater group, devoted

  • Jeffrey Jenkins

    Jeffrey Jenkins’ works, which employ materials such as sod, fur, and dried grass for their grounds, resemble specimens in natural history museums. In Screen (all works, 1989), for instance, wire grids laid over the natural materials recall both scientific diagrams and maps. But Jenkins’ compositions do not describe any scientific finding. Rather, the dusty, decrepit aura of the work conveys a nostalgia for obsolete systems, an attraction to the charm of old-fashioned faith.

    The works adopt the formal strategies of minimalism, but their suggestive titles (Burrow, Bound) and symbolically charged

  • Judy Ledgerwood

    Judy Ledgerwood’s large sky- and landscapes fall into the now-popular mode of mediated nature painting, which draws on 19th-century romantic landscapes as experienced through art-history books, magazines, and other sources of reproduced images. Ledgerwood is one of a number of young Chicago artists who have jumped on the bandwagon of self-proclaimed artifice. On the surface, her paintings yield few clues regarding their subversive intent and might easily be taken for mere “pretty pictures”—which they are. But Ledgerwood intends her technique itself to convey a political message: diffused brushwork

  • Lea Copers

    On walking into a room full of Leo Copers’ whirring, ringing, beating, and humming sculptures, one immediately feels de trop, in the way, an intruder among a collection of autonomous, hermetic objects. Copers, a midcareer Belgian artist who has had little exposure here, often makes works that keep viewers at bay via the use of various threatening elements—knives, nooses, machine guns, lightbulbs immersed in water. But his pieces also betray a playful element, and in his show here, with its spook-house flying tablecloth and idling motors, this element prevails, though the works remain conceptually