Michael Minelli
Kohn Gallery
The head of a nurse, an Arab woman in Niqab, and a cicatrized, monocled Daddy Warbucks—like man stare at the viewer blankly, not even asking, in the manner of De Niro’s Travis Bickle, You lookin’ at me? The problems inherent to representing in sculpture both the act of looking and the information provided by a specific face account only partially for the strange power of Michael Minelli’s second solo show. Where previously he proffered totemic, gleefully gaudy Bruce Conneresque assemblages or combined the bodies of various televisual and cinematic stars to make small, meticulous figurative fetish