"Christina Forrer" by Peter Schjeldahl

The tapestries of crazed cartoonish figures by Forrer, a Swiss-born artist who lives in L.A., are pleasurably absurd and almost absurdly pleasurable. Who knew that weaving could rival painting in combined optical and tactile potency? Knitted patches of intensely hued yarns range across a multitude of techniques, from loose and webby to dense and nubbled. They enchant the eye and beg to be touched (don’t). Meanwhile, blobby personages rage, panic, or engage in combative or bizarrely erotic goings on, beguiling the imagination. The usual decorative decorum of tapestry succumbs to happy anarchy. Surface and imagery register independently of each other, as if mutually oblivious, even as they share states of fire-alarm commotion.

Through April 13. Luhring Augustine

View article at newyorker.com