René Amman

  • Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster, Pierre Huyghe, Phillipe Parreno

    Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster makes moody installations out of furniture, wall hangings, and lighting. Pierre Huyghe stages what he terms “givings” or “dedications”—something like the inverse of appropriation—by having nonprofessional actors reenact scenes from classic films like Rear Window. Philippe Parreno has a well-known German anchorwoman recite, in measured, airwave-friendly tones, a Maoist harangue. In this exhibition curated by Angéline Scherf and Laurence Bossé, three of the most talked-about young French artists today are presented in a survey of their individual projects—as well as in

  • Christine Borland

    Death leaves behind more than just bones. To document the vagaries of the Great Vanishing Act, Glaswegian artist Christine Borland has buried weapons, photographed fetuses in collections devoted to medical history, ordered skeletons over the phone, and had six sculptors replicate the head of Josef Mengele, the Mad Doctor of Auschwitz. In this first Dutch survey of Borland’s work, curator Saskia Bos presents work from 1991 to 1998. Nov. 6, 1998–Jan. 4, 1999; travels to Museum für Gegenwartskunst, Zurich; CCC, Tours, France; Fundaçao de Serralves, Porto, Portugal.

  • Sylvie Fleury

    “Want a killer body? Read this!” Swiss-born Sylvie Fleury mines the demimonde of the fashionable few—from luxe goods to haute trash—reveling in glamour, superficiality, and lowest-common-denominator desire. “Egoïste.” “Shopping.” “Obsession.” “Slim Fast.” “Skin Crimes.” What more can you say? “Moisturizing is the answer,” writes Fleury in glaring neon. In this survey curated by the Museum für Gegenwartskunst’s Rein Wolfs, car accidents are enhanced with lipstick colors, giant balls are decked out in grass-green fleece, and, on a video screen, a lady floors the gas pedal: one of the “She-Devils

  • Martin Kippenberger

    Münster has had one, as have Kassel and the Greek island of Syros. Even the sleepy Yukon hamlet of Dawson is home to one of Martin Kippenberger’s quixotic entrances to a nonexistence subway line. Though Basel isn’t, this exhibition of six sculptures, fifty works on canvas, and two hundred drawings should make it clear that the creator of the “Nonsensical Construction Plans” wasn’t just interested in the world below. Curator Peter Pakesch’s show should also make the point once and for all that the art world undervalued the multidimensional talent of this bull-in-the-china-shop. Sept. 12–Nov. 15,