Lou Ellingson

  • Ernst Yohji Jaeger, Untitled (Coin), 2022, distemper, oil pastel, oil on linen. 15 3/4 x 17 3/4''.
    picks April 13, 2022

    Ernst Yohji Jaeger

    The word “Lunatique,” here serving as the title of Ernst Yohji Jaeger's solo show, describes a turbulence of moods that, unlike its faux ami in English, neither condemns nor institutionalizes. Rather, it names a volatility that we’re all capable of, an affect that remains enshrouded in the mystery of never knowing what’s next, of living in a bewitching present whose frightening, amusing, or mundane moments allow us to surprise even ourselves.

    Such a spectrum of experience is conveyed through ambivalence and earth tones in the ten works (all 2022) on view. In Untitled (Coin), an elfin figure with

  • Lee Bae, Landscape sp-4, 2003, charcoal on canvas, 63 3/4 x 51 3/16 x 2 3/8".
    picks February 01, 2022

    Lee Bae

    Born from intense heat and low oxygen, charcoal emerges through incomplete destruction to sustain new energy elsewhere. This tension is at the core of Lee Bae’s “Le noir en constellation,” which gathers works in homemade charcoal from the past two decades of the artist’s ongoing study into this material’s chromatic depths.

    Black is often defined as the absence of light. Yet as one moves around the canvas-mounted works of “Issue du feu,” 2003, strips of charred wood glow with a predawn blue. In a follow-up series, “Issue du feu (white lines),” 2019, these abstract mosaics of fir and pine tree

  • Fabien Vilrus, Ornella, A Front de Mer Saint Paul, 2019, hand printed C-print, 31 1/2 x 39".
    picks July 12, 2020

    “La Kaz”

    “To live is not just to have a roof, it is to construct a space that welcomes, that doesn’t close, that doesn’t cleave,” writes Francoise Vergès in the exhibition text for “La Kaz,” whose title is Réunionese Creole for “home.” Here, curator Juan Corrales has gathered an imaginary neighborhood in the form of photographs taken by Fabien Vilrus and styled by Nicolas Guichard, both born on La Réunion. One wall is entirely portraits of houses in various states of rust and reclamation by the Earth. As such structures are replaced by profit-driven architecture that ignores both climate and community,

  • Etel Adnan, Vibrations n°2, 2017, gouache on paper, 7 1/16 x 4 3/4 x 97 11/16".
    picks February 13, 2020

    Etel Adnan

    Accordion-style books in an accordion-centric city: Music has rarely felt as relevant to Etel Adnan’s works as in “Leporellos,” an exhibition titled after the term for this type of folding booklet. Since the 1960s, Adnan has produced such zigzagging pages, which alternately conceal and reveal their neighboring panels like miniature shoji screens. Although they include recognizable scenes—a row of inkpots, say, or Adnan’s geological muse, Mount Tamalpais, whose peak here stands three and a half inches tall at the center of Spring, 2003, 2003—these hybrid productions fulfill Adnan’s own observation

  • Vera Kox, footprints to fingertips (detail), 2019, insulation panels, foam, ceramic, cast aluminum noodles, plaster, pigments, silica gel, copper pipe, hair extension, 50 x 54 x 34".
    picks December 04, 2019

    Vera Kox

    For an exhibition that wields the materials of construction and mass production (plaster, silica gel, polyurethane foam) to more whimsical ends, it’s fitting that Vera Kox’s “footprints to fingertips” unfolds in a gallery called 22,48m2, a measurement both architectural and absurd.

    A bubble of happy accident envelopes each of these installations, all made within the past two years and most titled after the show itself. Upon entering, visitors find what could be a botched Slip ’N Slide: A blue insulation mat unravels, like a cartoon waterfall or a seamless photo-shoot backdrop, at the viewer’s

  • Elisa Lendvay, Piss Dreams / Moon Beams (Yellow Flag), 2015/19, wood, steel, flattened aluminum, plaster, clay, paper pulp, fabric, mirror, gourd, acrylic paint, and oil pastel, 59 x 28 x 15".
    picks August 23, 2019

    Elisa Lendvay

    Hiding within Cone Hole Reach, 2019, a hand mirror trimmed with Barbie hot pink reflects nothing. The mirror is encased in the sculpture’s conical, concrete-gray base, whose tiny windows allow us an equally tiny glimpse of this charming yet functionless component. This thread of playful anarchy runs throughout “Rise,” Elisa Lendvay’s first solo exhibition here, an oddball gathering of characters seemingly plucked from dreams.

    Lendvay’s quasi-figurative sculptures don’t really reference the human form. Modestly sized works such as Red Net Thread, 2016—one of several pieces arranged on a square