new-york

View of “Peter Buggenhout,” 2014. Left: The Blind Leading the Blind #67, 2014. Right: The Blind Leading the Blind #66, 2014.

Peter Buggenhout

Gladstone Gallery | West 21st St

View of “Peter Buggenhout,” 2014. Left: The Blind Leading the Blind #67, 2014. Right: The Blind Leading the Blind #66, 2014.

A remarkably convincing figuring of disorder—of irredeemable, contagious psychomaterial disarray—the solo New York debut of Belgian sculptor Peter Buggenhout coaxed improbably affecting nuance from viscerally brutish form. Functioning both as discrete objects and as elements of a larger installation scenario, the pair of dark heaps set in the ground-floor gallery of Gladstone’s Twenty-First Street space—The Blind Leading the Blind #66 hulking in the middle of the room, The Blind Leading the Blind #67, both 2014, appearing to simultaneously spill forth from and muscle up to a nearby wall—were ominously implacable, with heft to spare. Yet Buggenhout’s clumsy, looming things (both are larger than twenty by ten by ten feet) also possess a striking formal and situational unpredictability: They seem not fully stopped but only paused in the midst of some ongoing

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