Tom of Finland at Artists Space, through August 23 (55 Walker Street)An untitled 1976 graphite drawing in “The Pleasure of Play” depicts a buff, smirking man literally fucking the world. It’s one of the more fantastical compositions in this sprawling retrospective of the gay erotica icon who died in 1991, having worked in advertising while simultaneously constructing the almost comically libidinous scenarios he is best known for. This exhibition was open during the Supreme Court’s decision to sanctify the legality of gay marriage, but the desires gleefully expressed in these drawings are willfully in discord with the straight world’s norms. Tom of Finland’s characters tend to bleed together into a sort of archetype of a well-hung superhero, albeit one who changes costumes: A cop one minute, a cowboy the next, a leather biker, because why not? They also tend to be lily-white, for the most part, although a few drawings at the rear of the exhibition play with race in complicated ways. Mostly they’re informed by an impossible, borderline cartoonish hunger: A sense of never-enough. Seeing this much X-rated art in one afternoon can be a bit daunting, but — whether you’re gay, straight, or somewhere in between — it makes for a richly rewarded trip. While you’re there, take some pictures and see how quickly you can get banned from Instagram.“Bad Boys Bail Bonds Adopt a Highway” at TEAM, through July 31 (47 Wooster Street and 83 Grand Street)Curated by Amanda Ross-Ho, this is an eclectic, irreverent summer group show stretches across both of the gallery’s Soho spaces. Norm Laich is a stand-out, with works that pervert the techniques of sign painting, giving a commercial veneer to images of bloodshot eyes or an oversized California vanity plate that reads LIQUOR. (Laich also presents a text work on the wall that blares, in bright orange, “WISH YOU WERE WEIRD!,” and a rack of 50 T-shirts hawking Paul McCarthy for President in 2016: “It’s Time,” they read. Indeed! You can purchase individual shirts to support the cause for $25 from the gallery desk.) Other highlights: a strange, mixed-media totem by Erik Frydenborg; a formidable column of “plaster rotini noodles” that stretches from floor to ceiling on Wooster Street; and the finely detailed linework of Josh Mannis’s ink on paper drawings of smoking, texting girls.“Hello Walls” at Gladstone Gallery, through July 31 (515 West 24th Street and 530 West 21st Street)A roster of heavyhitters — including Daniel Buren, Wangechi Mutu, and Jeff Elrod — contribute wall-based works turning the gallery’s two Chelsea spaces into colorfully charged environments. On one hand, the experience feels like watching an artist’s signature turned into literal wallpaper: a decorative touch to change the temperature of a room. But in various cases the conceit is effective. Ugo Rondinone’s contribution is a pulsating Op-Art target; Michael Craig-Martin’s oversized, purplish painting will make you look at the contours of a Starbucks coffee lid differently. The best of the bunch is courtesy of Raymond Pettibon, one of the few artists — I’m guessing — who actually rendered their wall painting by hand, without outsourcing to a small army of assistants or staffers. It hints at a narrative that’s something to do with wrestlers, boxers, and an old-school punk rocker fellating a horse. You’ve been warned.“Objects Foods Rooms” at Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, through July 31 (521 West 21st Street)Taking its cue from a 1914 Gertrude Stein book described as “an idiosyncratic and seemingly nonsensical catalogue of mundane objects,” this show — curated by Andria Hickey, who also helmed “Image Objects” in City Hall Park — is indeed idiosyncratic, but rarely mundane. The hilariously offbeat Laure Prouvost has more work than anyone else here: “OWT,” 2007, a short video in which a man’s earnest monologue (in English) is rehashed and mistranslated into subtitles (also in English) that bear only a passing resemblance to what’s being said; a series of found objects and text paintings hinting at familial narratives (“This sponge have been seen kissing the soap passionately when Grandma seemed to dream of her favorite actor” [sic]); and a room-sized installation in which a stick of butter is made to converse with an e-cigarette. Other favorites: Urusula Mayer’s vaguely phallic, biomorphic glass-and-polyester creations, molten tentacles with cast lips that recall the sculpture of Alina Szapocnikow; and Luis Jacob’s “Album XI,” 2013, a 40-piece serial collage that mashes up museum installation shots with news images and other photographs to create a free-associative half-narrative. Rachel Harrison has a July 4th-appropriate sculpture downstairs (red, white, and blue helmet, some plastic sausages) and a photographic series upstairs — keep an eye out for Kevin Bacon.“English Summer” at Elizabeth Dee, through August 14 (545 West 20th Street)United by several common threads — chief among them a home base in the UK — the artists here riff on bodies and unusual materials (marble paired with whipped-cream canister chargers; vacuum-sealed polyurethane foam resembling marshmellowish entrails). Many of the works share the bright, clean appeal of advertising or infographics, but adapted to very different purposes. Nicolas Deshayes “Molars” series resembles strangely cropped outtakes from commercials; a 2009 work by Gilbert & George mocks the style of a PSA, using 12 cheery images of the same ass to warn of how male douching can contribute to HIV infection. Matthew Smith takes photo prints of clothing and overlays it with plastic piping, reducing the interior gunk of human anatomy to so much plumbing. Don’t let the prevailing poppy colors fool you, nor the idyllic-sounding exhibition title: Behind the surface, something a little sinister lurks.ALSO WORTH SEEING: Speaking of sinister, my Louise Blouin Media colleague Kathleen Cullen has curated a Georges Bataille-themed group show up at STUX + HALLER, on view through July 17. It includes button-pushing work by Hans Bellmer, Aaron Johnson, Bjarne Melgaard, Peter Saul, Betty Tompkins, and others.
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