In her two concurrent gallery exhibitions, sculptor Allyson Vieira leveraged the kind of aghast grief induced by images of whale autopsieswhen we’re shown the colorful array of plastic bags cut from their stomachswith a dose of the approving wonder inspired in us by straw-into-gold recycling feats. There’s a sober classicism to her strange urns and square, tapestry-like works made from postconsumer waste, as well as an efficient, impersonal quality to their mysterious serial production. These qualities fend off the threat of discordant wackiness that often curses such found-material endeavors, and Vieira achieves an unsettling, un-gimmicky elegance with her environments of plastic overload.
At Klaus von Nichtssagend, you had to crouch down, as if entering a cave, to investigate the objects assembled in two lines down the length of the narrow front room. Baggy black
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