This was Anselm Reyle’s first solo show since his announcement in early 2014 that, for the time being, he would neither make nor exhibit new work. True to this resolution, the exhibition did not feature new pieces: On view was a single series that the artist regards as complete as of this self-imposed hiatus—the definitive date in the show’s prosaic title, “Streifenbilder/Stripe Paintings, 2003–2013,” indicating as much.

The exhibition was a look back of sorts, then, and another first for Reyle: He had never presented a solo show entirely dedicated to one ensemble and the stages of its

This retrospective of René Block’s work as a gallerist, curator, collector, and publisher of prints, multiples, books, and catalogues highlights the remarkable arc of a career that helped shape the contemporary art world and continually responded to the shifting borders of our now global condition. “Ich kenne kein Weekend. Aus René Blocks Archiv und Sammlung” (I Know No Weekend: The Archive and Collection of René Block) surveys fifty years of this polymath’s groundbreaking activities, which began in West Berlin, continued in New York City from 1974 to 1979, and eventually led to exhibitions and

Viewers entering Michael Dean’s exhibition “Look at them fucking laughing” found themselves among a field of standing sculptures taller than they are wide or deep. The variously colored concrete forms were grouped a bit like Stonehenge monoliths—seventeen pillars, each with its lower part bent forward to keep it upright. Some are earthy pinks or browns or gray. Two others (both titled analogue x, 2015) aren’t solid forms at all, but rather bent metal rods with a thickness of sky-blue concrete surrounding them. They both lean precipitously to one side. Off in a corner, six slightly taller,