Yee Jan Bao’s syrupy paintings of vintage automobiles are amiable send-ups of a centerpiece of American cultural mythology. He cleverly underlines what are already poignant tendencies in the auto industry—the manner in which a new car is packaged and presented. Like a fresh and pure beloved, it is full of the promise of personal freedom and the open road, of endlessly renewable possibilities. Bao plays off the standard presentation of new cars in advertising campaigns—that tantalizing, low-angled view of both front (or rear) and side views of the auto, as if it were shyly exhibiting its charms.

Anne Wilson is drawn to utilizing and examining the only fiber our bodies actually make—hair. Using false hair, she divides her attention between the hair that we adorn and the kind that is ignored, considered vaguely embarrassing. Her sculptures are metaphors for the human condition in general, and for the shifting position and situation of women in particular.

Wilson’s “I Cut My Hair” series, 1992–93, is composed of disembodied luxuriant manes. They are presented very hieratically, almost like an inventory of the incredible range of hair color, texture, and its systems of display. These plaits