In recent years Karla Black has become famous for sculptures made of untreated, pastel-colored powdered plaster, ghostly accumulations of plastic sheeting that appear to have been casually, carelessly left to hang in midair, and incredibly fragile-looking paper objects that can stand up on their own but look as if even the slightest breeze would topple them. In short, she has been exploring the ephemeral qualities of enduring transitional states, which she has inscribed in the floury or scraggy bodies of sculptures that are balanced perfectly on the edge between form and anti-form. Her recent

For a contemporary artist to pursue a dialogue with modern or older masters is not in itself remarkable. But to address predecessors such as Soutine or Bacon by making sequels to their work that succeed as independent paintings, not commentaries, suggests a more nuanced operation. And that’s what Mark Lammert has been undertaking. He recently showed ten suites of oil paintings made between 1997 and 2010, ranging from the small Lettre (nach Goya) (Letter [After Goya]), 2008–2009, which consists of four small panels, to the wall-spanning Manöver (Maneuver), 2005–10, made up of twenty-seven paintings.