Only a handful of contemporary artists are household names. In England, at least, Tracey Emin tops the list. I began to understand why a few years ago when she walked into an opening and immediately this warm, happy feeling went through me: Ah, there’s my pal Tracey! I had to quickly remind myself that Ms. Emin and I had never actually met. Yet very few works in any medium give as vivid an illusion of intimacy as Emin’s early videos, most notably How It Feels, 1996—the horror story of a botched abortion—and Why I Never Became a Dancer, 1995, which recounts an episode of humiliation at a dance

“Every tool is a weapon if you hold it right.” Superflex—the artists collective composed of Bjørnstjerne Reuter Christiansen, Jakob Fenger, and Rasmus Nielsen—take the Ani DiFranco lyric as a truism but also as a call to arms. Like Empire authors Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, who also cite DiFranco, the Danish trio embrace globalization for its creative and liberatory potential. Their first major solo show appears as an elaborate advertising campaign for a multinational that seizes art’s internationalism to effect social change.

With its blatantly commercial tropes, Superflex’s work aptly