One of the guiding images that drives his practice, Javier Téllez has said, is a memory from childhood. As a kid in Venezuela, Téllez would visit his psychiatrist father at the hospital where he worked. During carnival, when the world turns upside down, the mental patients would trade their uniforms for the doctors’ sterile white coats. In that strange, mutable moment, the paternalistic binaries of doctor and patient, normative and pathological, broke down. And so, eventually, Téllez’s videos and films—with their carnivalesque admixture of fiction and document, fantasia and poetic

Oscar Tuazon’s invasions of space—which he improvises on-site, working them out as he goes—have been much discussed lately. One hears talk of “structural tension” (Julian Rose in Artforum) or a “palpable miss” (Philippe Pirotte in Parkett). Tuazon’s topography of smaller structures in the spacious new rooms of Galerie Eva Presenhuber opened up yet another perspective on his work. To begin with, there was the very direct, almost archaic occupation of the space using heavy construction materials, steel frames, wood, glass, and poured concrete. Heavy beams sketched out complex geometric