reviews

  • Jud Fine

    Riko Mizuno Gallery

    Jud Fine’s art objects have been pretty good for a couple of years now—sleek but natural, structural but informal, and readily identifiable save for some cursory similarities to some work of Nancy Graves. His current exhibition consists of much the usual (wisely), with a few Conceptual-art wrinkles added; whether the additions compromise his objects’ integrity, or place them in tingling jeopardy which heightens their presence is a difficult question. There are four pieces in the main room: one fairly “straight” (a big, backward N in hinged bamboolike poles with sundry embellishments, such as

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  • Ann McCoy

    Betty Gold Fine Modern Prints

    Ann McCoy’s prints are worthwhile, to get right to it, because they’re the first significant workshop lithos I’ve seen in a long time. In other words, they are a development in McCoy’s whole body of work, not just additional income. McCoy’s main work—large, vertical paper tapestries of compulsive pencil drawings of National Geographic scenes—seemed a profitable dead end (what do you do after the first batch, go from waterfalls to mountains to deserts to jungles to . . .?), but there was no particular reason to make any sort of “move” within the prints. The Underwater Series is, however, a probable

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  • Doug Edge

    Cirrus Gallery

    Confession #642: I’m always intimidated by the slightest hint of art strategy; I assume the artist knows exactly what he or she is doing relative to other recent art, and I (sometimes) attribute to work a few extra ploys. Like right now. Doug Edge’s is the last ’60s show, so tantalizingly dated, so hip about the wrong things, that it’s very substantial in an odd way. (In New York, where news travels like flu and where the turnover is a blur, I think work like this would be unfortunately quickly dismissed. But in L.A., where we’re fed a steady diet of slightly out-of-it stuff, the nuances come

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