“Diving through Buster’s Bedroom,” Rebecca Horn’s first West Coast solo exhibition, consisted of 18 large-scale mechanized sculptures created in close thematic relationship to her latest film, Buster’s Bedroom, 1989–90. Although it was possible to read the installation independently of the film—the sculptures’ references to reptilian metamorphosis, alchemy, and mechanical conjunction/dislocation are familiar themes in Horn’s oeuvre—the cross-pollination of ideas and symbology between the two media was crucial to Horn’s undertaking. The three-dimensional works not only reference ideas and characters

The diverse materials and formats evidenced in Megan Williams’ show “Drawn From Memory,” ranging from a 15-foot neoprene rubber doll to a series of small drawings on paper, is less a gratuitous demonstration of versatility than a necessary analogue to the multiple levels of visual language that constitute her reality. Whatever the brain picks up on, including the shuffled data of dreams, is fair game here, and the type of artmaking that results runs counter to more logical, system-oriented conceptual projects. Williams’ work tells complicated, open-ended stories about the condition of being

Wolfgang Laib’s modest arrangements of natural substances exhale cool sensory promise, stillness, and a meditative serenity, cuing notions of bounty, famine, fertility, and germination.

The first of four works encountered by the viewer, an austere white square gleaming in the middle of the floor, entitled Milkstone, 1983–87, exudes a low-key grace. Is it stone polished to look like liquid, or a mysterious four-sided puddle of milk? Both, in fact, for Laib has taken a flat marble slab, and finished its surface in such a way that it can hold a thin layer of milk poured on top of it. Replenished