At a talk at Dia Chelsea in March, Hong Kong-born, New York-based filmmaker, artist, and writer Tiffany Sia aptly characterized her new book as a “montage on paper.” On and Off-Screen Imaginaries collates six essays—several of which had earlier versions published in Film Quarterly and October—penned in the wake of the 2019–2020 Anti-Extradition Law Amendment Bill protests in Hong Kong, the subsequent passage of the 2020 National Security Law geared toward quashing dissent, and the arrival of new OFNAA Film Censorship Guidelines in 2021.

A conceptual-spiritual engagement with embodied ritual, and a fascination with the literal and metaphorical transformation of natural materials (including bodies), are recurrent motifs in All These Different Things Are Sculpture, Fox’s first institutional solo show in New York in four decades.

Peeping out of rounded rectangular boxes, rapidly shuttering cameras capture gallery goers at numerous angles, emphasizing those viewers who foray into the inverted panopticon’s proscenium to perform for the machine. The photos are then projected onto the wall in rapid succession, the gestalt being a structural film befitting a mass surveillance age.

Anticipatory heartbreak haunts even the most steadfast of loves, as timelines are inevitably cleaved from one another. While this truism is broadly applicable to mortal relations, I feel it most acutely in my relationship with my eight-year-old dog, Beckett, for whom years carry a different weight.

Perhaps you, like me, know Jade Guanaro Kuriki-Olivo better as Puppies Puppies, the pseudonym-cum-persona that the artist crafted in 2010. Puppies Puppies has historically ventriloquized, masked, and absented herself, both in the context of white-cube installations and performances and in the durational performance of being Puppies Puppies.

Copy Machine Manifestos: Artists Who Make Zines, a presentation of zines made by North American artists over the past five decades, is an ambitious undertaking. Curated by Branden W. Joseph and Drew Sawyer, the exhibition is necessarily a sampling rather than a survey in light of the sheer volume of zines produced in that period.

A dance to which the page was integral—fittingly for the linguistically inclined Rainer, who has penned a number of essays on her choreographies—Parts of Some Sextets was not only scored via a chart, but also timed to a book: Performers were cued by an audio tape of Rainer reading excerpts from the diary of William Bentley (1759–1819), a Salem minister who fastidiously recorded notable local events (an eclipse, a death, the arrival of an elephant).

The figure of the container, a symbol of global capitalism’s flows, violence, and erasures, looms large in Post Atlantic, a show of eleven paintings and five collages by Bay Area artist and septuagenarian Dewey Crumpler.

Curated by writer Raphael Rubinstein and artist Heather Bause Rubinstein (whose labyrinthine fabric painting City as Shape (2019) is included in the show), Schema takes up the question of how artists have employed a broad cross-section of diagrammatic forms, from the map and the mandala to the isarithm and the ideogram.

“The first person who bought my art was a client of mine,” writes Sophia Giovannitti in her debut book, newly released by Verso.

The Drawing Center’s latest exhibition is full of portals: artworks that beckon us to a mysterious elsewhere and enable us to tunnel deeper into ourselves at the same time.

Though the panel discussion framed feminism as a buzzword, Red, White, Yellow, and Black was feminism in practice. So is the effort put forward by the show: to sift through ephemera, restage artworks, reconvene group members, and obtain oral histories, all for the sake of fleshing out what never should have been missing from art history in the first place.

Since 2006, experimental poet-novelist Renee Gladman has been making drawings, often characterized by diagrammatic or architectural elements, that tap into language’s rich capaciousness. Gladman garnered acclaim for her Ravicka novels (2010–17), fictions in which bodies move through a shifting city-state with its own language.

Rejecting the urge to erase, minimize, or turn away from an unsightly feeling, the writers included in this anthology audaciously inhabit a sentiment that society exhorts its high-functioning citizenry to disown. The beautiful, weird aggregate that results is profoundly, pathetically human.

A former student of Sōdeisha member Satoru Hoshino, contemporary Japanese potter Masaomi Yasunaga carries some of the school’s avant-garde predilections forward, deftly melding traditional and experimental techniques to make inscrutable and compelling objects with a constitutional aversion to orthodoxy.

“How might an ethics and politics committed to the flourishing of significant otherness be learned from taking dog-human relationships seriously?” asks scholar Donna Haraway in The Companion Species Manifesto (2003), a characteristically nimble and excursive text on the imbricated past, present, and future of canines and people. In the follow-up to her 1985 cyborg manifesto, Haraway frames people and dogs as co-constitutive categories—the term “companion” hinges upon a relation or contingency—and characterizes “significant otherness” as a nonhierarchical form of relating that springs from a cognizance of difference and an ethics of attention.

In response to the socio-ideological landscape that late capitalism presents as donnée, the Yes Men pose as corporate or governmental bodies in mass media “hijinks” that either take consensus reality to its ludicrous extremes or demonstrate that consensus reality has already reached said extremes, highlighting our entrenchment in its naturalized frameworks.

Tishan Hsu has been exploring the messy entanglement of bodies and technology for over three decades. Spanning painting, drawing, sculpture, photography, and video, his work is characterized by a slippery lexicon of biological and technological motifs—lingering on the touch in touchscreen and the face in interface—that probes the more visceral, affective, and lived aspects of our relationships to machines.