via The New Yorker: Critic's Notebook
The new New Museum is a svelte stack of fine, white spaces, and its first show,"Unmonumental," of junk sculpture by thirty international artists, is auspicious. Consolidating an anti-fashionable fashion in contemporary art, the exhibition addresses seriously hip folk, who needn't be briefed on the precedents: Schwitters, Rauschenberg, Cady Noland. The doyenne of this return to jury-rigged detritus is Rachel Harrison; her shiny dirt bike, atilt on pigment-slathered blocks and accessorized with rock-filled handbags and a photograph of Mel Gibson in "Braveheart," stars. Antic parsimony rules. A conservative spirit pertains. Most of the works are neat and clean. You could take them home, and, in the case of powerful congeries of this and that by Isa Genzken, you might want to. At issue is a restoration of studio romance (the artist in what-the-hell action) after a spate of market sex (the artist as deluxe fabricator). This is brave news. The show will be augmented, in stages, with collages, sound installations, and digital whatnot.