Eamon Ore-Giron at James Cohan Gallery

Can a deity’s identity change over time?  Struck by Octavio Paz’s observation that interpretations of a sculpture of Coatlicue in Mexico City’s Museo Nacional de Antropologia have gone from “goddess to demon, demon to monster and from monster to masterpiece” in the centuries since Spanish conquest, Eamon Ore-Giron imagines contemporary identities for familiar divinities in new paintings, ceramics and textiles at James Cohan Gallery.  Here, in ‘Talking Shit with Mama Killa,’ Ore-Giron pictures the Incan moon goddess with her geometric fan-shaped crown creating angular and organic shapes that cover her upper head while the lower half of her face is transformed by triangular patterns and tear-like blue drops.  Characterized by angular features that appear to be morphing, this divinity’s identity is capable of shifting and updating by the moment.  (On view in Tribeca through Oct 21st).

Eamon Ore-Giron, Talking Shit with Mama Killa, mineral paint and flasche on canvas, 72 x 72 inches, 2023.

Toba Khedoori at David Zwirner Gallery

At one end of David Zwirner Gallery’s vast white cube space hangs a detailed painting of tangled, leafless branches by Toba Khedoori; across the room is the artist’s painting of a grid of variously hued blue rectangles.  In the juxtaposition of natural forms vs those that echo the built environment, Khedoori presents dichotomies of art practice: expressive freedom or impersonal rigidity.  While most imagery in Khedoor’s show is centered at the middle of large sheets of wax-coated paper, one painting of tall grasses offers linear forms arranged to depict wildness, bridging the dynamic and measured in one small canvas.  (On view in Chelsea through Oct 21st).

Toba Khedoori, Untitled, oil and graphite on canvas, 27 ½ x 24 ½ inches, 2023.

Nicolas Party at Hauser and Wirth Gallery

At the entrance to New York artist Nicolas Party’s exhibition of new work at Hauser and Wirth Gallery is a vividly colored, full-wall pastel painting of a forest fire.  A nearby drawing depicts a vulnerable-looking baby while further into the show, a tiny oil on copper painting of a dinosaur adds to a meditation on changes to the earth’s climate that forewarns an extinction event.  In this tiny triptych, Party repeats the forest fire imagery as backdrop to a portrait resembling a northern Renaissance devotional image, typically verdant and detailed-filled vistas replaced by destruction.  (On view in Chelsea through Oct 21st).

Nicolas Party, Triptych with Red Forest, oil on copper and oil on wood, open: 12 3/16 x 19 5/16 x 2 9/16 inches, 2023.

Yasumasa Morimura at Luring Augustine Gallery

From Marilyn Monroe to Marlene Dietrich, Yasumasa Morimura mimics the iconic looks of famous figures in the series ‘100 M’s Self-Portraits,’ now on view at Luhring Augustine’s Tribeca gallery space.  Having made a name for himself in the ‘80s through to the present day via vividly colored photos that depict his reenactments of famous artworks with himself dressed as the main character (he started as Van Gogh with a bandaged ear), the now 72-year-old photographer opted for smaller format black and white images to create his 100 piece portrait series from the 1993-2000.  Here, he takes his version of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s into the subway, having his audience watch a passerby react as we also consider the implications of his race and gender transgressing role play. (On view in Tribeca through Oct 21st).

Yasumasa Morimura, one image from ‘Once Hundred M’s self-portraits, 100 gelatin silver photographs, each 13 ¾ x 11 inches, 1993-2000.

Tetsuya Ishida at Gagosian Gallery

Workers are expendable in the alienated world depicted by Japanese artist Tetsuya Ishida in the late artist’s paintings at Gagosian Gallery in Chelsea.  Coming into adulthood in the Japan’s economic depression in the ‘90s, known as the country’s ‘Lost Decade,’ Ishida catalogued the dehumanizing effect of corporate culture in images that depict workers taking in food from nozzles as if in a gas station or emerging from train doors in the form of boxes with heads, ready for delivery and consumption.  Here, in ‘Exercise Equipment,’ a worried looking individual with Ishida’s features runs not for the health benefits, but to keep ahead of the workers poised to yank him from the treadmill.  (On view in Chelsea through Oct 21st).

Tetsuya Ishida, Exercise Equipment, acrylic on board, 1997.