Skin is the interface through which we experience the world. It both protects us and makes us vulnerable. This dichotomy of embodiment was explored in dynamic ways in Leda Bourgogne’s first solo exhibition in Berlin, “Skinless,”which featured works that treat the surface of painting and sculpture as a skin that mirrors our own in its susceptibility and its capacity for resistance.

Hung prominently in the gallery next to the main entrance was the painting that lent its name to the exhibition (all works cited, 2018). Made from stretched, beige-colored fabric, it has a small bleached patch toward

Mario García Torres’s recent exhibition worked like a puzzle. The visitor encountered various parts that at first blush did not coalesce into a coherent pattern or image: Minimalist glass circles suspended from the ceiling (The Belonging Game [all works cited, undated]), a construction of bronze-rod triangles (An Impossible Crack in Reality), an animatronic plastic turtle crawling across the floor (So You), wandering spotlights that lent the setting a theatrical aspect, and—on several occasions during the show’s run—a performer: an elderly gentleman delivering a nonstop oration that