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OPENINGS: JASON MEADOWS

A horse goes into a bar and sits down. The bartender asks, Why the long face?

That joke is beautiful and not merely dumb because, for an instant, it coerces you into picturing an insane simultaneity—a generic horse’s head merged with a sadsack human face to create something eerily incongruous. The punchline is contingent on that disorienting and ultimately futile mental task, and its pleasure lies in this futility. Jason Meadows’ sculptures inspire a similarly puzzling reverie, asking you to second-guess his odd decisions to wed efficient, Home Depot–esque lumber, particle board, and the occasional fluorescent light fixture to an entirely wacked notion of the hallucinatory, producing work that is at once elegant and user-friendly.

“The hallucination is a unique window, and then it’s also very slippery,” says Meadows, a tall, bespectacled twenty-five-year-old. “My work is something very simple

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