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As we break from Snap Reviews for the summer,
enjoy monthly curated picks from our editors across exhibitions,
books, food, TV, and more.
Los Angeles-based designer Ross Hansen’s solo exhibition at Marta is hinged to Ojo Caliente, New Mexico, where he splits his time. Titled Tino’s White Horses after his new equine neighbors, the suite of objects invite soft earth tones and delicate fabrics alongside resin and other more industrial materials.
Hansen’s Basket series (all works 2022) is emblematic of this tension. Made from strands of hemp fabric that the artist sews into tubes and layers into simple basket shapes using a mold, the pieces are drenched in resin that calcifies their soft material, transforming them into hard, utilitarian objects. Similarly, Filter B is a long, shelf-like lamp structure that is covered in a globby epoxy resin and shrouded in a gauzy, nude fabric that diffuses the light and gently conceals the minimal sculpture.
Elsewhere, such as with a coffee table and a low bench, the artist embraces organic abstractions—both forms feel bodily and fleshy despite their slick sheen. Like the duality between the urban and rural spaces in which Hansen resides, this body of work oscillates between a polished aesthetic and a more quiet, organic wildness, the two caught in a blissful balance.
–Lindsay Preston Zappas
At the core of Jordie Oetken’s current exhibition at No Moon LA, Hippocrene, is a series of three photographs hanging in the right corner of the gallery. In sequence, they depict a vivid blue streak of bioluminescent algae rolling across a dark shoreline; a series of plastic-y pink stitches closing a wound above a horse’s eye; a statue behind a chainlink fence, truncated cleanly above its ankles. Together, they evidence Oetken’s penchant for ambiguous and affective imagery, concentrated not on a single subject but a particular mood. Her eye feels agile, the pace of her picture-making made both quick and slow as she approaches landscapes and monuments as if they have the same kind of temporal softness as the body.
Including the stitched-up one, two horses appear across the show. The second is in a highly textural black-and-white image of a rearing horse statue, its stone mouth open as if emitting a roar. The crux of the tension at play in Oetken’s work can be understood through the relationship between these two images, which both suggest a kind of violence—one bodily and temporary and the other preserved. But across the photographs, a pervasive sense of temporality is felt, even in the two statue images. Both appear behind fencing or netting and show signs of damage and decay, highlighting not their status as monuments, but as living objects ultimately susceptible to impact.
Oetken’s images demand close, in-person looking. Their formal simplicity offers an opportunity to notice small textures that originate in the camera’s translation of the world—artifacts that are not always permitted, such as digital noise and motion blur. While these images do not reveal their project easily (or much more than the press release, which, as is the gallery’s tradition, offers an astrological reading rather than a description of the show), it is perhaps a good reminder that clean revelation need not be the purpose of photographs.
–Erin F. O’Leary
Five ghoulish acrylic and plywood heads greet you upon entering the gallery space at Subliminal Projects. CONVERSATIONS, a group show curated by artist Russ Pope, features his work alongside Nathaniel Russell, Lori D., Jahmal Williams, Marco Zamora, and Lauren Beauchner. While the artists are united by their ties to art, design, skateboarding, and surf culture, CONVERSATIONS investigates the larger nuances of connection, a popular concept following the past several years of on-and-off isolation.
For his sculptures and mixed-media collages, Williams draws inspiration from urban environments, history, and the vibrant conversations had between instruments in jazz melodies. Syncopated rhythms are visualized in Dharma and Source of Strength (both 2022) through a language that melds bold hues with organic, abstract forms. On the adjacent walls, frenzied text roars across the canvas in Williams’ Reverse Freedom Rides #1 and #2 (both 2021). Referring to the Reverse Freedom Rides of 1962—Southern segregationists’ attempts at tricking African American families into moving North— the works appear like intrusive thoughts or a nasty conversation that replays in your head over and over again. Together, the crazed canvases capture the fury and fervor of hateful language.
With the exception of Williams’ two textual works, Russell’s are the only other pieces in the show that utilize text. Four small paintings on wood each feature a long, scraggly figure as their subject. In the first, the figure stretches toward the sky, exclaiming “Finally: Oh sweet relief!” In a work hanging below, the figure appears with his back to the viewer, shoulders slumped. Above him, text reads, “Now back to the start.” Russell’s gawky figure captures the sort of internal connection that we all may have grown too familiar with since the spring of 2020. Yet, alongside these four works is a painting by Russell titled OPEN SESAME (2022). A white sunburst appears carved from an opaque, black background. The phrase “open sesame” appears above, as if commanding the world to open up again.
–Alitzah Oros
After the official reversal of Roe v. Wade, Jia Tolentino’s widely circulated article, “We’re Not Going Back to the Time Before Roe. We’re Going Somewhere Worse,” was a chilling read. The article charts the attendant criminalization of women’s bodies—“whereby women can be arrested, detained, and otherwise placed under state intervention for taking actions perceived to be potentially harmful to a fetus”—which has been further normalized due to the Supreme Court’s decision. “Anyone who can get pregnant must now face the reality that half of the country is in the hands of legislators who believe that your personhood and autonomy are conditional,” Tolentino writes, clearly demonstrating that legal access to abortion is a necessary part of equality and social justice.
–Lindsay Preston Zappas
Since discovering the fashion industry’s insane rebrand of literal plastic as “vegan leather,” I have been awaiting its mainstream exposure. It came in June, with Hiroko Tabuchi’s article “How Fashion Giants Recast Plastic as Good for the Planet” for The New York Times. The article is an interesting read that delves into larger questions about what is, and is not, actually sustainable.
–Erin F. O’Leary
Lisa Hanawalt’s mind is a beautiful, hilarious, and funky place. Her 2016 graphic novel Hot Dog Taste Test makes me giggle like a maniac, and her illustrations are lovely, whimsical brain cleansers. It’s possibly a book about food, but it’s really a buffet of random and quirky thoughts about food culture, birds, travel, and Argentina.
–Alitzah Oros
On a recent visit to Rory’s Place in Ojai, I felt like an absolute queen. Rounds of orange wine were accompanied by an array of salads and sides: a halibut agua chile, briny tinned fish, a perfectly salted flatbread served with an herby spread and tangy feta. We ate family-style; a tender roast half-chicken and a grass-fed ribeye were precursors to an ice cream sandwich like none other. With a delicate macaroon sandwich, some kind of rhubarb compote (don’t quote me… I was adequately blissed out by this point), and soft strawberry ice cream, this thing honestly stole the show—a temporary salve to the absolute horror show that is America.
–Lindsay Preston Zappas
I make Christina Chaey’s recipe, “Spicy Chicken Lettuce Wraps,” near-weekly. Bon Appétit describes it as “low investment and high reward,” which is precisely my current vibe/capacity. It is flavorful and customizable, requires only pantry staples, and comes together in sincerely 15 or so minutes (really 15, not like when recipes pretend that it only takes 5 minutes to caramelize onions).
–Erin F. O’Leary
After the truly disappointing month that was June, my brain constantly pleads for sugar-induced dopamine rushes. Enter: Trader Joe’s Sea Salt Brownie Bites. These tiny, gooey, fudgy brownies topped with flaky salt and dark chocolate chips give me hope on the darkest of days. For extra dopamine (and maybe a brain freeze), microwave the brownies and crumble them over ice cream.
–Alitzah Oros
As someone who grew up in and out of dance studios but gave it up when the demands of a double pirouette proved too elusive, I’m pretty jazzed on the return of So You Think You Can Dance. The show took a hiatus for a few years, and watching it again now, I’m reminded of both its campiness and its charm. Like most reality shows, there are cringe self-congratulatory moments and endless chatter from a panel of judges, but these are coupled with sincerely beautiful choreography that sees the performers dancing out of their typical styles—ballroom dancers blow minds when they tackle contemporary, hip hop dancers jump into the bunny hop, etc.
–Lindsay Preston Zappas
I can absolutely not be bothered to watch anything other than the new season of Love Island (U.K.). Upon streaming the first episode a couple of weeks ago, my boyfriend—the tension melting from his body—exclaimed, only half-joking, that it had arrived just in time to save the summer. While I generally don’t believe that we can afford to check out of the absolute trash fire state of things, the hour or so that we spend absorbed in the low-stakes drama of their campy world has offered an oddly restorative moment of relief. I love their stretchy mesh dresses and tight white jeans and giant strip lashes; I love their accents, for which I require subtitles; I love thinking about the art department responsible for fabricating a host of exquisite and wild props. Watching Love Island feels like watching The Sims, and I do not look forward to its conclusion.
–Erin F. O’Leary
Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World was truly splendid following the 20 hours of Love Island Australia I watched in a single weekend. The story, told in 12 chapters (plus a prologue and an epilogue), touches on themes of angst and anxiety, the meaning of life, one’s purpose on this planet, and the often passionate and frenzied quest for love. After watching hours of hot young Aussies tirelessly discuss the “spark” they either do or do not feel with one another, the film felt like a cold drink splashed right in my face.
–Alitzah Oros