Am I a jerk if I say that up until now, Frances Goodman has not impressed me that much? This is not meant as a backhanded compliment on any level – quite the contrary. I usually say nice things just cuz I have BLOGGING POWER, so saying that her current show at the goodman (no relation, as far as I know) is a real treat – whether you liked her stuff before it or not – really means something, then.
The show intertwines installation, sculpture and “wall-hangings” that are inter-texted so as to invite us to write its characters into existence. Said personages are woven into beads, dripping from tables, and whispering amongst each other. Goodman’s influences include Woolf and the Brontes – and this is completely transparent, in the most wonderful ways.
Goodman begs us to build characters with the letters between, and asks us to look at ourselves amongst the pages.
