through July 31. Kitchen, 512 West 19th Street, Manhattan; 212-255-5793, thekitchen.org.
Even if you’ve been attending kitchen exhibits and exhibitions for decades, it’s now more difficult than ever to locate this ill-described former industrial building on 19th Street: it’s called the residential towers in Chelsea. and has been swallowed up in a maze of luxury boutiques. Alan Ruiz’s blunt, extravagant but impressive exhibition”containers and vests,” solves some of these problems.
Ruiz is a New York-based artist and writer whose work explores the politics of architecture and the built environment. Here his most prominent work was in the grassroots black box theater “WS-C-62A; WS-C-62B”. (2021). Made primarily of steel and glass, it cuts off the space like a fractured wall or viewing platform. Every day, about eight minutes before the gallery closes, the floodlights come on and Philip Glass’s “Dance IX” (1986) There are explosions throughout the area, reminiscent of the institution’s earlier times. Less clear are the documents making up “Transfer II (WS-B690-L40)” (2021), displayed on the gallery’s north wall, detailing how Ruiz took the remaining air rights from the city to the kitchen for $1 a year. leased for. per month.
Combining various recognizable strains of recent art – minimalism, conceptualism, pedagogy, institutional critique – Ruiz addresses the ways in which small institutions such as the kitchen are surrounded by the titanic wake of real estate development and gentrification. It’s a depressing narrative, but Ruiz’s candid approach mostly evokes nostalgia. Instead, he identifies and captures spaces that artists can still claim—or for little rent—within a largely converted New York.
new red order
Through August 21. Artist Space, 11 Courtland Alley, Manhattan; (212) 226-3970, artistspace.org.
first time i saw new red order (NRO) Video, I laughed – and then wondered if it was okay to laugh. Actor Jim Fletcher, calling himself a “reformed Native American impersonator”, was recruiting audiences. be an informer For the NRO, an art group which is also a kind of secret society. The video was a pitch-perfect parody of a promo like a weight loss program, the only goals being decolonization and the cultivation of indigenous futures. It felt like a brilliant joke whose punchline had a genuine appeal to someone like me, a white man living on land taken from Lenape.
NRO – whose main contributing artists are Adam and Jack Khalil and Jackson Pauley – now has a major exhibition in Artist Space, titled “feel at home hereThe zany upstairs installation includes two semi-satiric videos, graphics on the walls, branded beach products, and a mock real estate office for land repatriation. It also delves into two points of history: the New York City seal. , in which a friendly “Native Americans of Manhattan,” And this better order of red men, a nationalist secret society founded in 1834 by and for white men who structured it based on their own fantasies of the original society. Below, the lightbox and video take a serious take on well-known, stereotypical depictions of Native Americans by the sculptor James Earl Fraser.
Although this is NRO’s biggest show to date, the nature of the group remains elusive – which is exactly the point. Its gift is clever variability. Using a mash-up of strategies and styles, the NRO uncovers widespread violence against Native Americans, but then, instead of letting the perpetrators off the hook, urges us to do something with our crime.
through July 30. Metro Pictures, 519 West 24th Street, Manhattan; (212) 206-7100, metropictures.com.
The unrequited passion is central to the seven artists in “Wish,” a group exhibition about the productive joy of uncovering and anticipating the fulfillment of our hidden desires. This fulfillment can be subversively sensual, as indicated by many of the works in the show and most ostensibly a series of photographs by Torbjörn Rodland that combines common examples of human interaction with enthusiasm, such as the outstretched hand. The pair touch a funeral floral arrangement (“Floor Flowers,” 2015), or hold a mouth open in a medical office (“Intraoral No. 2,” 2015). In Heiji Shin’s evocative photographs, these unsettling scenes extend to the animal kingdom, with artists combining common creatures with human nudity, such as in “Dick and Snake” (2018), or barnyard creatures in their own right. Allows to act as intuitive, such as in “Big Cock 7” (2020), a close-up shot of a rooster.
While his punch lines may sound obvious or juvenile, Shin’s photographs emphasize the exposition, often humorous and unarmed, of the relationship between our desires and his real-world conformity. Nora Turato’s 2021 wall piece announces “this little piggy bank went to market”, with a perfect deadpan tenor, gig economy (see your hand for writing newsletters) through psychedelic patterns and corporate sans-serif typefaces. the ubiquity of the employees who left their jobs”). advertisement. In a similarly edgy style, Elliot Reid presents a mound of salt – 163.2 pounds worth, the equivalent of the artist’s body weight – within the gallery, on top of which are the clothes that the artist used to video call with loved ones. Were wearing The 2020 work, “Encrypted End-to-End (Lot’s Wife),” succeeds in indicating the physical absence that video technology attempts to reduce, but also clearly, completely exposition-like. , alludes to intensely felt sensations of longing. Those who are dear and distant.