New York

Chryssa

Leo Castelli

Chryssa’s new sculptures have an airy, urbane briskness; they ingeniously fuse the architectonic sobriety of the city and its lurking violence. At the same time, by reason of their white purity, they convey a sense of lyric transcendence. It is as though, in being artistically recreated as a kind of planar script, the epic city becomes a delicate ghost of itself—unimaginable except as an esthetic mirage.

Chryssa’s Chicago, for example, is a less physically oppressive—much more spiritual place—than Carl Sandburg’s muscular city. It is a high-tech temple of ironic materiality. Chicago Cityscape I, 1988–90, is a Dionysiac construction of aluminum planes so eccentrically shaped and at odds with one another that they seem to writhe uncontrollably. It is as though they were laboring to give birth to space, or signaling a more archaic space than the one we inhabit. Conventional measurable space

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