Over the past ten years or so, most accounts of Rebecca Warren’s work have included the same familiar list of names, conjured more or less explicitly by her sculptural forms and techniques. Degas, de Kooning, Helmut Newton, R. Crumb—this dubious patrilineage can be traced across decades and media, sustained by a tireless fascination with the female body. With virtuosity, Warren has mimicked and lampooned them all. But discussion of her work has often halted with the identification of these references, reducing her complex engagement with the politics of sculpture to a witty and pointed

Yang Fudong’s black-and-white film Fifth Night, 2010, offers an allegory of philosophical searching in Shanghai’s old town over the course of one night in the 1920s. The roughly ten-minute piece (shot in 35 mm and transferred to HD video) follows several characters who, with pained expressions, wander around carriages, vintage cars, and a table set with laboratory-specimen jars (one with a live fish swimming around in it) as bicycle rickshaws pass by, workers attempt to repair an old tramcar, and men in business suits sit silently on a couch placed on a platform in the middle of the square.

Ali Eisa and Sebastian Lloyd Rees, working collaboratively as Lloyd Corporation, inaugurated Carlos/Ishikawa’s new space with a show of works that have grown out of, and offer an oblique take on, the febrile indeterminacies of the present economic situation. Presiding over the show through several of the works’ titles was the spirit of the Roman god Janus. Guardian of the gateway, looking both forward and backward, the deity offers a symbolic link between the distant past, in which an empire was born, and a future cobbled from its rubble.

Titled “Connect. Conjugate. Continue,” the exhibition