Pablo Bronstein’s enticing, elaborately detailed ink, gouache, and pencil drawings make no apology for the machismo which, in the longgone ’80s, hideously spliced together retrograde postmodernism with Baroque and neoclassical architecture. His is a pastiche of towering, overdecorated obelisks; vast, giant Corinthian colonnades; tall, endlessly spurting fountains. What is it with architects and their protrusions anyway? “If phallic symbols could fly, this place would be an airport,” as Mike Kelley might say. Colluding with the ’80s superstar architects like Michael Graves (now designing Disney

“Hello to You Too” seemed an appropriately coy title for an exhibition that knowingly offered a come-on while making it seem as though the advance had been on the part of the viewer. Paulina Olowska’s chic, tightly constructed show consisted of nine paintings, all of which prominently foregrounded a female figure, in many cases a variation on an archetypal attractive European female artist. In one, her trim silhouette, right shoulder forward, looms out of a ripped-up mess of old advertising posters (Mieszkanie 629-83-36, 2006); in another, a woman looks out of the painting from under arched

The Round Chapel isn’t really round—elliptical is more like it. Built in 1871, it is said to have been the most important Nonconformist church in East London. Although you can’t see much of the place in the darkness that Anthony McCall’s Between You and I, 2006, requires for its visibility, such a setting seems tailor-made for McCall’s small-p protestant (frugal, anti-iconic, individualistic) art. The installation consists of two slowly metamorphosing light patterns projected from a rig suspended from the chapel’s ceiling—one describing parts of an ellipse that narrows and widens, the other a