Carol Bove stops short. A systematic thought process can knit itself together into a stable, static pattern, like Harry Smith’s Design for Qor Corporation, an acrylic on cardboard cruciform Celtic knot; distend outward in an infinite loop, like much of the beautifully geometrical, dangerously mystical ephemera produced in mid-century by Mr. Smith, his friends Lionel and Joanne Ziprin, and assorted Kabbalists, and curated into a small parallel exhibition by Ms. Bove and Philip Smith; or collapse and dissolve like ocean foam. But in I-beam Sculpture, the first piece meeting the viewer in “RA, or Why is an orange like a bell?” Ms. Bove arrests the process at the last possible moment of suggestive ambiguity. Eight purplish lengths of I-beam faintly marked with scaly orange rust are bolted together into an inconclusive intersection. Two shorter sections are fastened together lengthwise, parallel to the floor, with symmetrical cutouts at either end. Facing the door is a cross-shaped gap; on the far side, pointing to the large pane of glass, framed between two more I-beams and two of the gallery’s columns, on which Mr. Smith’s painting is mounted, is a cross.
The hints of melancholia and breezy bathos that have long made Alex Hubbard’s work so interesting are strongly present in his newest pieces, called “one-person portable drinking bars.” These five Kienholz-worthy stalls are each about the size of two phone booths and stocked with alcohol, complete with a working beer tap. You can saddle up to the bar with its lone chair, pour a drink and enjoy it while staring at yourself in a mirror. It’s playful and humorous—until it gets lonely. Whatever Mr. Hubbard means to get at with these boîtes—the inherently solitary nature of looking at art?—this show, his sophomore outing at Maccarone, has him bringing his typically inventive, light touch to a variety of mediums, and continuing to eschew a signature style, a refreshing stance in a city that all but demands its artists adopt a recognizable brand.
The Armory Show has hired Allison Rodman, formerly of Maccarone gallery, as its new communications manager.
Oscar Tuazon will unveil three new public sculptures at Brooklyn Bridge Park, which will be on view from July 19, 2012, to April 26, 2013.
Come September, the West Village’s Maccarone gallery, located at 630 Greenwich, will become a bit larger. Carol Vogel reports in The New York Times that proprietress Michele Maccarone has acquired the lease for the dry cleaner next door, Slate NYC (its slogan is “permission to get dirty,” which could apply to not a few of the gallery’s artists). The gallery will unveil the new space in September with a show by artist Rodney McMillian.
Take just one moment and visit stabfrenzy.com, a website run by the Norwegian painter Bjarne Melgaard on which he documents some of his work.
We just did and, clicking through the pages at random, saw a photograph of Mr. Melgaard shirtless, cradling two small dogs, as well as dozens of installation views of his shows at galleries around the world. There are scores of his paintings too, which look like they were produced by a manic, enraged neo-expressionist. There are bulbous cartoon figures and photorealistic images of elderly people and a child soldier. There are neon works too: “THE WORLD IS FULL OF RICH CORRUPTED CUNTS,” one reads.
“The idea of Stab Frenzy was showing how much was produced,” Mr. Melgaard told us. “I feel in New York people are very careful. I prefer to make 500 paintings here. You’re not supposed to do that because you can’t really auction results.” He speaks quickly and calmy, with a thin Scandinavian accent that sounds somehow German. “Sometimes I feel like making five and sometimes I feel like making 5,000.”
Artist Carol Bove, who is perhaps best known for her sculptures that meld Minimalist forms and display devices with found objects like peacock feathers, seashells and driftwood, will be represented jointly by Chelsea gallery David Zwirner and the West Village’s Maccarone gallery.