Liz Larner’s sculptures imply action and transformation, seemingly broken and contorted by prior events. In smile (alluvium), a stubby sculpture protrudes from a pile of crushed ceramic shards; 6, a crumpled outline of a shape not unlike a jungle gym, has been squashed by unknown forces. They’re strange reiterations of mid-century Color Field painting and Minimalist sculpture, and visually seductive, covering a range of colors from the deep black of Lux Interior (rubber) to the hazy gold of After Red Desert. Some invoke the supernatural—the title of Planchette, a dark purple wall-relief of paper and aluminum, refers to the small piece of wood used to spell out messages on a Ouijia board—while others play with the simple idea that things are not what they seem. Though her works share formal qualities with a range of 20th century painting and sculpture, Larner imbues them with strange imperfections and oblique narratives, all things that extend beyond form.
Liz Larner at Tanya Bonakdar
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