WHEN I WAS / YOUNG—FOOLISH— / I LOVED MARCEL DUSHIT / HE BEHAVED MULISH—. This snippet of poetry by the Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven is printed on a wall next to the bathroom door at Mimosa House, beside a projection of Alfred Stieglitz’s photograph of an upturned urinal signed R. MUTT 1917. The proximity of the Baroness’s handwritten lines to the widely known signature underscores their remarkable similarity: a nod to the spirited debate that has emerged in recent years about the true authorship of the most famous art object of the twentieth century. Did Marcel Duchamp steal the credit

The works of Kutluğ Ataman blur the line between fact and fiction as the Turkish artist-filmmaker examines his subjects’ self-presentation. Ataman’s own experience flickers at the edges, always present but never the main subject. In the pair of exhibitions “Mesopotamian Dramaturgies” and “fiction”—Ataman’s first gallery shows since stepping away from the art scene in 2013—biography once again held an understatedly central place. In the early aughts, Ataman was a rising star in the art world, with a Turner Prize nomination and a Venice Biennale commission to his name. Then he suddenly withdrew