“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction,” wrote Virginia Woolf, one of the figures in Laëtitia Badaut Haussmann’s feminist genealogy. Nearly one hundred years after A Room of One’s Own was published, in her exhibition “As if a house should be conceived for the pleasure of the eye, she says,” the artist proposed a mode of exploration—through cinema, sculpture, and design—of just what that room might resemble. A door is essential. Here Badaut Haussmann gave us two of them, heavy interior models, presented leaning against a gallery wall, positioned like sentries.