In recent years, Katie Grinnan has shown an almost magnetic attraction to ruins. In the summer of 2006, the Los Angeles–based artist navigated Rubble Division–Interstate, a ruinous parade-float sculpture, from the High Desert Test Sites in California to the Socrates Sculpture Park in New York (as part of the exhibition “Interstate: The American Road Trip”). Tugged behind a large passenger van, Rubble Division was constructed of photographic panels depicting fragmentary images of two buildings—one a demolished building supply store, hence the title—mounted on a twisted rebar skeleton. Along the

Brenna Youngblood’s second solo exhibition at Margo Leavin at times felt redolent of Richard Prince or Robert Rauschenberg. The evocation owed less to the strategies that Youngblood shares with these artists—she’ll produce a Prince-like deadpan photograph of an anonymous floral still-life painting, for example, or freestanding painted assemblages reminiscent of Rauschenberg’s Combines—than from the distilling and mixing of Americana that is essential to her practice. Yet Youngblood’s work, in the specific American vernacular it focuses on, differs greatly from Prince’s distanced, appropriationist