One-Line Reviews: Pithy Takes on Peter Campus, Gunther Uecker, and More

Installation view of Günther Uecker's work at Haunch of Venison
(Photo by Lori Fredrickson)

Once again, ARTINFO has sent its intrepid staff into the streets of New York, charged with reviewing the art they saw in a single (sometimes run-on) sentence. (To see our One-Line Reviews as an illustrated slideshow, click here.)

* Peter Campus, “now and then,” Bryce Wolkowitz, 505 West 24th Street, through December 22


With recent time-altered videos of the Long Island shore welcoming visitors to the gallery and leading to a back room of historic works in which visitors become the videos' subjects, “now and then” presents the bookends of Campus's ceaselessly exploratory career, from inward-looking young artist to a reflective observer slowing down time in order to capture it and present it to his audience. —Sara Roffino

* Agnes Denes, Sculptures of the Mind: 1968 to Now, 535 West 22nd Street, through January 19

Alongside documents pertaining to her pioneering Land art practice, this mini-survey finds similar environmentalist concerns at work in Denes's sculptures — like her oh-so-1960s mirrored boxes in hot pink-tinted Plexiglass — though the darkly comic, solemn, and haunting disk of cremated remains "Human Dust" (1969) steals the show. —Benjamin Sutton

* Serban Ionescu, “Demeter,” Bridge Gallery, 98 Orchard Street, through December 15

Taking its title from the boat that brought Dracula from Transylvania, Romanian-born, New York-based Serban Ionescu's “Demeter” references both the fictional monster and the actually monstrous Vlad Tepes in black and white paintings scrawled as if by Bram Stoker's mad Renfield, with impaled sculptural heads and an eerie film rounding out the vampiric nightmare. —Allison Meier

* Ricardo Mazal, “Kailash,” Sundaram Tagore, 547 West 27th Street, through December 15

With his liberal use of photography and the squeegeed swaths of paint that are hard to shake from the Richter brand, Mazal, whose latest series is inspired by the views of the holy mountain of Kailash in Tibet, has evidently joined the ranks of latter-day abstract expressionists eager to infuse the influence of music and religion into their work. —Reid Singer

* Seth Price, “Folklore U.S.,” Petzel Gallery, 456 W 18th Street, through December 22

The white garments and large, soft, white envelopes that hang on Petzel Gallery's walls seem recognizable enough, save for the bank logos that have been sewn into the linings of all of the garments and that could be mistaken, at first glance, for popular repetitive logo designs like Louis Vuitton — except where we expect to see the familiar LVs and the status they represent, we find FDIC and UBS.Terri Ciccone

* Ricardo Rendon, “Open Works,” Vicky David Gallery, 522 W 23rd Street, through January 12

For his debut New York exhibition, Mexican artist Ricardo Rendon channels early Richard Serra and mature Joseph Beuys simultaneously by tacking large, perforated pieces of felt to the wall and letting the cutouts fall into piles on the ground, offering the viewer a window into his process. —Julia Halperin

* Ryan Turley, “Hi/Low,” ArtBridge Drawing Room, 526 W 26th Street, through December 6

A low-fi answer to the current trend toward grandiose room-filling art installations, Turley’s oddball architecture of dirt flooring, prismatic diffraction, grating film strips, extension cords, handicap grab bars, and other miscellania invites you to walk barefoot (or, rather, in a pair of complementary socks) in this topsy turvy — yet strangely tranquil — immersive environment. —Chloe Wyma

* Günther Uecker, Haunch of Venison, 550 West 21st Street, through December 21

In his first NYC show since 1966, the ZERO Group founder explores political and religious tensions through his iconic canvases of twisted nails, hammered over religious text and deconstructed shapes such as the Star of David, while more recent works like floor-to-ceiling canvases peppered with black paint resemble shooting-range targets, and add a haunting new dimension of violence. —Lori Fredrickson