In Kapp Kapp’s Canon, nine works circumvent fine art’s canonical dispositions through painterly and photographic discourse, and broadcast the optical and imagerial techniques behind Thomas Blair, Kunning Huang, and Waseem Nafisi’s fluctuating print and scan-centric methods.

Balancing Act challenges viewers’ levels of participation, visual perception, and manual precision—a considerable number of actions needing to take place in a gallery setting, let alone anywhere outside of an arcade hall. While the artists’ collection of mechanically sharp paintings eviscerates any indication of their painterly hands, their huge interactive game contrastingly engages its participants to become their own blatant sculptor.

Every aspect of Brianne Garcia’s art making comes with words attached. After discussions with the artist, I found myself being more conscious of the type of language I activated to speak to strangers, friends, and lovers. They made me wonder where the actual words I was sounding out, the ones I knew how to speak, or at least thought I could utilize effectively, came from in the first place.

Robert Zehnder’s new paintings and sculptures all possess a strong visual symbology and psychologic indexicality, evocative of his most recent trip to Europe. Returning with a critical and philosophical attachment to the idea of hidden functions of certain architectures, namely those ecclesiastical in nature, Zehnder’s intrigue into how these ideas can influence one’s own spatiality, both internally and exteriorly, has produced Ageless Machine, the artist’s first solo-exhibition with Mrs.

Over the course of two or so years, Lucy Mullican wandered far and wide through various parts of the globe. Staying with friends along the way, she would explore new environments on foot, finding beauty in discarded, organic matter, bygone possessions and misplaced building fragments. The artist began to forage for nature’s charming yet overlooked souvenirs, and never stopped.

Elbert Joseph Perez’s sobering humor and historical fixation instill an anxiety-inducing literalness, crying out from somewhere between the borrowed opulence of historical, still-life masterpieces, and a gravitational interest in the concept of “existence,” described by the artist as a “baseline misery.”

Taking shape through glistening metallic scales and boundless oceanic interiors, Tess Bilhartz’s Follow Me Down grants viewers entry and exploration into a new terrain, yet offers no certainty of an escape.