new-york

Kaari Upson

Maccarone

“I am bound to have some anxiety about this so please if I say stop, don’t stop.” The run-on title of Kaari Upson’s recent show at Maccarone served as fair warning of the quality and quantity of neurosis concentrated therein, while the gallery’s statement detailed its convoluted narrative so thoroughly that there seemed at first precious little room for imaginative maneuver. “There is a man at the center of a story,” it began. “He is a character created from real information and forensic methods traced and described by a narrator, a woman, who is a persona of a self, playing the role of his obsessed lover in a self-reflexive fantasy.” And so it went on, relating and analyzing the artist’s tortured account of desire and projection.

What one saw first on entering the gallery was a wall scrawled energetically with black charcoal, and what looked like disembodied limbs and other parts cast in

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