Despite key lime, hot pink, cerulean, stop-sign red, rain-slicker yellow, whether arranged in quasi-modern geometries or lava lamp bubbles, many of Andrew Masullo’s strangest and strongest works deploy white as simultaneously positive and negative space. In the dinky 3713, 2000, two “teeth” bite into part of a red star; the fried egg– white surface of 3156, 1995–2000, puckered and crunchy, is about the size of a fried egg, sunny-side up, the yolk a variegated posy. A white, curved “cloud,” like the soft explosion announcing the arrival of another outré relative on Bewitched, envelops most of

In his Los Angeles solo gallery debut, Stephen G. Rhodes took the linguistic slippage between the homophones dual and duel as a point of departure for a highly ambitious, slyly humorous, and slightly maddening installation that managed to weave together personal, historical, and formal concerns. The show, titled “Ruined Dualisms,” was overtly theatrical: A few dim electric candles took the place of standard track lighting, and a densely loaded accumulation of paintings, collages, sculptures, photographs, and sculptural video works filled the gallery and sprawled into the office. The conjoined,

From across the room, it looked as though two perfect sunny-side-up eggs were stuck to the face of a painting in Lari Pittman’s recent exhibition. Closer inspection revealed them to be painted on, in something between a flat, graphic style (the differing shapes of the two egg whites made by flipping the same stencil over) and an attempt at spatial illusionism, with a waft of shading hinting at the contour of each yolk. This stylistic and spatial play—continuing in the way the eggs assert the surface and artifice of the underlying painting, which depicts in illusionistic depth a hyperstylized