Objets rédimés” (Redeemed Objects) was an exhibition in the high Duchampian idiom. Seven circles of debris on the floor contained the remains of glass molds of various objects—an umbrella, a rope, a broom, a bottle, a hammer, a bag, and some books—that had been dropped from the gallery ceiling. The exhibition thus marked seven destructions. Each time one of these “redeemed objects” is displayed, it is, necessarily, destroyed. Moreover, since Étienne Chambaud has produced only eight casts of each object, the amount of available installation-destructions is limited; each presentation of

“I’m very interested in the idea of what happens in the border, in the space in between. What happens when you cross the street? Or when you cross the périphérique?” Having lived in Paris from 2005 through 2008, Mexican artist Abraham Cruzvillegas recently returned to that city to examine its borders and his own identity in relation to them. La petite ceinture, the “little belt” made of nineteenth-century train tracks that encircled the city just inside its nineteenth-century fortifications, still marks the boundary of central Paris. The system of defensive walls, built in response to France’s

Marlie Mul’s exhibition “Your Wet Sleeve in My Neck” had something green and full of potential about it. In the gallery’s street-level space was a low-lying sculpture diagonally laid out in serpentine form. This piece had the smack of an extravagantly long wind instrument or hookah pipe, but in fact it had no passage for air. It consisted of lightly polished, solid-wood spindles set on the floor, joined end to end with straight or bent segments of clear PVC tubing. Each rod had a lathe-turned design for what would appear to be anachronistic stair balusters—twisted spirals, orbs, tapered