Davina Semo’s brutal abstractions are deeply rooted in the physical. There is an implied violence and danger in the slabs of spray-painted concrete and broken safety glass that make up her sculptures, but also a certain austere beauty. While these objects appear blank and impersonal—they could be confused for found objects from a construction site—Semo gives them grandiose all-caps titles that uneasily bridge the gap between humor and hysteria, thus leaving their meaning unclear. “I keep coming back to thinking about how strange it is to be alive,” Semo has said, “and how in this time of total connection there is so little attention paid to the fundamental or metaphysical reality in which we exist, which is that there is no way for you to read my mind, and no way for me to read yours.”