Hands down, the best views from any piece of New York real estate are to be had from a tiny, isolated shack on the side of a hill overlooking New York Bay. You can’t actually enter Rachel Whiteread’s ‘Cabin,’ for which she cast a small structure in concrete, but the surroundings are more the point anyway. With Manhattan’s skyscrapers in view to the north and the Statue of Liberty looking over from the east, this new permanent public artwork is both isolated and at the center of the city. (On permanent view on Governors Island).
Rachel Whiteread, Cabin, concrete and bronze, installation view on Governors Island, 2016.
Famous for making casts of empty space (inside of rooms, between book shelves), British sculptor Rachel Whiteread continues to consider built and domestic environments in her latest solo show at Chelsea’s Luhring Augustine Gallery. Among doors and windows cast in resin, this papier mache and silver leaf brick wall offers an architectural fragment as a precious object. (Through Dec 19th).
Rachel Whiteread, Untitled (Silver Leaf), papier mache and silver leaf, 22 x 19 5/8 inches, 2015.
Austerely minimal and elegantly, Rachel Whiteread’s Untitled (Pair) from 1999 is based on the shape of a mortuary slab. One part is curved to allow bodily fluids to drain. The other is an upside down cast of the first part. Standing quietly side by side, they suggest partnership through eternity. (At Luhring Augustine through 6/16).
Rachel Whiteread, Untitled (Pair), bronze and cellulose paint, 1999.
Rachel Whiteread, Untitled (Sequence III), plaster, polystyrene and steel, 2002.
Books – in colorful grids on the floor, piled on a remainders table, preciously designed and placed far out of reach on high shelves and in many more guises – fill Friedrich Petzel Gallery’s biblio-centric group show, ‘The Feverish Library’ (organized in cooperation with Matthew Higgs). Rachel Whiteread’s plaster, polystyrene and steel ‘Untitled (Sequel III)’ from 2002 lends a note of gravitas and mystery to the show by recording only the cast space around a bookshelf. (In Chelsea’s Friedrich Petzel Gallery through Oct 20th).
Mona Hatoum, 'Home,' 1999, photograph courtesy of Alexander and Bonin
Mona Hatoum’s 1999 sculpture Home (featuring kitchen implements with wires running out of them, accompanied by the sound of pulsating current) inspired this unsettling exhibition plumbing the darker side of the places in which we live. High on anxiety but regrettably low on risk factor, this hit parade of big-name artists still affords the pleasure of reconnecting with iconic artworks about painful circumstances.
Family relations simmer in the show’s best pieces. Louise Bourgeois’s claustrophobic house teeming with phallic/breast/fungal forms and Rachel Whiteread’s black urethane mattress creased by a labial fold conjure a dread matched by a Luc Tuymans painting of place settings that foretells the drama of a family gathering.
Violence spills over in Gregor Schneider’s photos of a strung-up sex doll and in Mamma Andersson’s painting of a disordered bedroom with ominously bloodred furniture. But the most disturbing pieces hint at souls lost to the chaos (Jeff Wall’s photo of a disheveled character standing by the door of his decrepit domicile) or obsessive order (a Thomas Ruff living-room scene) of their lives.
Even a cheery painting of a beach house by Maureen Gallace turns suspiciously, unbelievably idealized in this context, while a whimsical paintbrush by Michael Brown, its handle crafted from melted Neil Young records, seems primed for a cover-up. Viewed from the right angle, David Altmejd’s plaster sculpture of a fantastical lair with dangling staircases turns out to be the head of some deranged giant. Such twists add intrigue to this domestic thriller of a group show.
