new-york

Alison Wilding

Galleria Salvatore + Caroline Ala

Whenever sculpture has an effect of completion without any intimation of death, it puts us in a false position: our role is to admire an object that is so well mannered (after all, it has done all the work for us) that we cannot take issue with it. Disagreements are outside the work’s code of behavior and only make us look bad. This is not exactly dictatorial; such a piece is very often only reticent in style. But it so refuses passion and ideas that dialogue is irrelevant, as it is with certain people, ever so nice, who simply know what's healthy and sane and what's not, and who prefer not to argue about it.

The sculptures of Alison Wilding are not quite in this category but they edge toward it. They rely on our assuming a force field around their simple gestures, a consecrated circle of austerity and stillness more radical than the works themselves, which compromise, and so have the air

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