THE ASSUMPTION that the museum is a timeless space of stasis has come under fierce assault in recent years, but few artists have equaled Philippe Parreno’s insistence on reconceptualizing it as a responsive site of process and exploring the exhibition as a durational medium. Nowhere is this more evident than in Anywhen, 2016, the artist’s monumental commission for Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall, the first since the museum’s major expansion last summer.

In its dynamic theatricality, Anywhen might be understood as a figuration of the self-image of the “new Tate,” incarnating the motto emblazoned on

Plumbing is the original, mostly invisible, technological network that connects us. Clean water, delivered through a hidden maze of pipes that pop up in our homes, enables us to live the sanitary, hygienic lives we take for granted and which are requisite for social acceptability in the developed world. For his exhibition of new work—titled “Thames Water,” after the utility company responsible for waste treatment and the distribution network for clean water in Greater London—Nicolas Deshayes presented six sculptures that functioned as radiators. Cast-iron forms mimicking assholes, wiry

The bikini is in decline, announced the British press in the summer of 2016. This factoid was supposedly linked to the rise of a new standard of female beauty set by the leotard-sporting American Olympic gold medalist Simone Biles. But the image of a fit, strong black female body as a standard of beauty is nothing new, as “Raphael Albert: Miss Black & Beautiful,” curated by Renée Mussai, reminded me. Consider Albert’s 1981 portrait Miss Grenada Theresa Hopkins #1, London, one of the few color photographs in the show. It depicts the model with her lips painted red, dressed in a one-piece bathing

Basel Abbas and Ruanne Abou-Rahme’s exhibition “And yet my mask is powerful” followed the same formal logic the artists honed in their three-part project The Incidental Insurgents, 2011–15, which combined a range of reference points—from Jean-Luc Godard to Victor Serge and Roberto Bolaño—into an archive assemblage and film installation. But whereas The Incidental Insurgents presents a kind of road trip, this exhibition offered a journey on foot and up close, expressed through a collection of objects, documents, and notes, and an immersive multiscreen video projection about a group of