Nearby, is the work of
—photographs taken using a two-way mirror. Meyohas is known for inventing the BitchCoin, a form of viable currency that one can buy stocks in, at the rate of one BitchCoin to every 25 square inches of Meyohas’s photographic prints. Meyohas takes on not only minimalism, but another notable patriarchal construction: capitalism.
’s Untitled (Waterfall)
(2016) responds to the minimalist cube, and specifically to Robert Morris’s 1961 work Box with the Sound of Its Own Making
. The work is a found, cube-shaped trunk, with a decal of a woodsy waterfall scene, and is topped by a tissue box printed with a mountain landscape. Inside the trunk, a white noise machine hums.
“It takes Robert Morris and makes it kitschy,” Battista notes.
“I was thinking of ’s Anti Form
pieces of the ’60s,” Battista continues, gesturing to the square fiber works of
. “Morris talked about the figurative incident disrupting minimalist form—Tsabar takes that minimal shape and then disrupts it with the body.” Tsabar’s large square fabric swaths have been injected with carbon fiber and outfitted with piano strings and guitar tuners. Viewers are welcome to pluck these sculptural instruments, or pound of their felted bodies, to produce a deep low bass. Tsabar put on a performance with these works at the show’s opening with a punkish intensity, embodying emotion and powerful female angst—a fitting expression in light of pressing concerns over women’s rights and equalities under the Trump administration.
“The sad thing is that if you asked me five years ago, I would have said that maybe we are post-feminist,” Battista confesses. “But now, with this new administration, we are not…and feminism is just as important,” she adds, acknowledging that we’re fighting the same battles that were at the heart of the Civil Rights and Women’s liberation movements of the ’60s.
Like many, Battista is eager to see what art will come out of this turbulent political moment. “I feel like it’s going to be maybe less overt than those wonderful artists of the late ‘60s,” she says, though quickly adds, “but I like the way that this generation fights the battle in a much more subtle way.”
—Lindsay Preston Zappas