Nicola Tyson’s painted forms are bodily. In some, I see human traces. In others, I see animals, trees, and plants. Her subjects are natural bodies—all living entities. They are not perfectly formed, however. Tyson creates them with light, broad sweeps of acrylic paint, using a dry brush, exposing slivers of white linen canvas, revealing the paint’s movement across the surface. Tyson’s recent exhibition “A Tendency to Flock” consisted of seven paintings in a rich palette of dark red, burnt orange, and varying shades of blue (turquoise, baby, sky) and (green forest) alongside numerous browns,

Monira Al Qadiri’s playful and engaging show “The Craft” was packed to the brim with conspiracy theory–like clues and references. The first of two rooms was almost completely dark; in the gloom, one made out only a replica of a hamburger spinning over a tall plinth—a piece titled The End (all works 2017). But there was a soundtrack: a male voice reciting a passage about an unspecified genre of architecture that, although supposedly attempting to respond to its terrain and atmospheric conditions, failed to blend into its context. This architecture’s innovative forms made it look like something