Is it natural to manipulate nature? Gracelee Lawrence’s 3D printed sculpture of fruit and the human body, two commonly modified objects, question how far we’re willing to go. In new work now on view at Postmasters Gallery in Tribeca, Lawrence prints versions of her own body in vegetable-derived bioplastic, merging it with plant or fruit-forms to create an extra-fertile figure. Fruits and veg displayed on rotating disks include this giant (7 inches in length) strawberry, an object to admire but no longer to consume, at least in its traditional capacity as food. (On view through July 23rd).
Gracelee Lawrence, Trampled or in Your Hands, polylactic acid 3D print, 8 available in an edition of 10 with 2 AP, 7 x 6 x 5 inches, 2021.
Now back in her native Iowa to complete an MFA, young painter Serena Stevens conveys contemplative quiet in new, large-scale paintings of domestic environments at Postmasters Gallery. Cats abound, here, pictured in the panels of a cozy-looking quilt and as stuffed toys. A pair of cast-off jeans on the bed suggest a quick change rather than an erotic interlude in a painting that explores the psychology of intimate spaces. (On view in Tribeca through Sept 13th. Appointments are not necessary, but masks and social distancing are required.)
Serena Stevens, Spare Bed, oil on canvas, 80 x 72 inches, 2020.
Adam Cvijanovic, ‘Discovery of America,’ flash acrylic on Tyvek, 2012.
Known for his nature-inspired, mural-sized dramas affixed to the gallery wall, Adam Cvijanovic doesn’t disappoint in his first New York solo show since ’08. At 15 x 65 feet, the show’s centerpiece, ‘Discovery of America’ is a trompe l’oeil triumph, appearing to bring a prehistoric, Rocky Mountain scene into a wall-splintering conflict with an image of human settlers racing across the plains all of which appears to take place in a messy art studio. (at Postmasters, Chelsea through October 13th).
Monica Cook, Dreyvus. Photo courtesy of Postmasters.
Figurative sculpture of fantastical creatures being rare in Chelsea, Monica Cook’s first New York solo show starts out as strange, but gets more eccentrically alluring. A monkey-like character by the door sets the tone with a dignified look in his eye but a half-finished, diseased-looking body. His simian brethren, in sculptures, photos and a stop-animation video, are equally grotesque, cobbled together assortments of fur and plastic. They recall David Altmejd’s gaudy giants, but elicit more sympathy.
A parent-and-child grouping and a female with her dog hint at the possibility that the beasts are stand-ins for us humans. This suggestion is confirmed by the video, in which the critters court and mate in a manner recalling Cook’s excellent 2010 YouTube Play contribution (not in the show), featuring romantic encounters driven by bestial desires. Things work out better in Cook’s animal kingdom, however, as ulterior motives fall by the wayside and, after a series of shy glances, a male magically impregnates a female by merely proffering her a bauble.
The fact that this pretty seed was torn from a fetus-like pod, or that the female attracts the male by munching on an olive-like oval pulled from the skin of her leg, is the repulsive flip side to these creatures’ damaged beauty. Missing flesh reveals skeletons cleverly constructed from coiled phone cords, internal organs made of glass balls and baboon bottoms filigreed with lingerie-like ornamentation. Despite their disconcerting appearance, their rituals of attraction and reproduction are sincere and absurdly simple, offering a kind of prelapsarian seduction of their own.
