Hanson and Sonnenberg
Cohan and Leslie Gallery
138 Tenth Ave

Chris Hanson and Hendrika Sonnenberg’s carved foam sculptures of chain-link fences, Zamboni tires, and trash cans demonstrate the kind of technical skill that would give Whittler Bob pause. After realizing that the life-sized, pastel-colored sculptures populating the gallery aren’t cast, but carved out of polystyrene, you notice the exquisite details. A hot-glue gun hangs by its cord from the handle of a shopping cart, the brake mechanism of a dismantled bicycle waits to be reunited with its tire. The sensuous surface of the foam (previously known as the cheap, butchered medium of sculpture students) lends these banal objects a heavenly aura. Yet these sculptures are not entirely serious. Zamboni tires in sea foam green and baby blue? A dented trash can memorialized with loving craft? In spending hours of their lives replicating throwaway objects in chipper colors, Hanson and Sonnenberg are revealing the absurdity of craft itself. The companion piece to this show — a large Zamboni whose tires had been “stolen”— was recently on display at Nyehaus and cemented this Canadian duo’s reputation for tongue-in-cheek realism.

Candice Breitz: New Work
Sonnabend Gallery
536 W. 22nd St.

Stepping into the Sonnabend Gallery these days is like entering a talent show nightmare. In the darkened room, a row of vertical monitors shows awkward actors singing Michael Jackson songs in unison. Although King (A Portrait of Michael Jackson) by the South African artist Candice Breitz, is somewhat interesting for its brazen presence and its exploration of the celebrity/fan divide, the real gems are around the corner. In adjacent rooms are the slightly earlier pieces Mother and Father, for which Breitz has appropriated scenes from Hollywood movies. In Mother, actresses like Diane Keaton, Julia Roberts and Meryl Streep (each imprisoned in their own monitor) exchange outbursts on the topic of motherhood. Around the corner in Father, the likes of Steve Martin, Tony Danza and Dustin Hoffman banter about their own duties. Defying the stereotype of video art, these two pieces are not only captivating, but also moving and hilarious. Breitz has managed to steal some attention-grabbing tricks from Hollywood while maintaining a clear and critical vision.