A red leather strap ends in a silver buckle, with a row of holes punctured down the middle: a belt. Actually, dozens of belts, but longer than they should be. Lined side by side and entwined in neat loops, they formed something like a mountain, quivering slightly, swaying on an axis, hovering in the corner of a bright, white gallery. Actually, they aren’t hovering. Look closely and a pair of human feet is revealed to be planted firmly on the ground below, supporting the cascading structure. This breathing scene, on view during the opening night of New Lexicons for Embodiment, Bárbara Sánchez-Kane’s solo exhibition at kurimanzutto, had the uncanny quality of a fever dream.
A sense of the oneiric is often present in Sánchez-Kane’s work, which builds heavily upon her background in fashion. Similar sculptures, rendered in black or white leather, hung on the surrounding walls sans human host, as if waiting—one imagines even hoping—to be activated by a body. Across from the man obscured by the tangle of belts are two bronze sculptures of Jesus, around the length of a forearm and contorted into a sloping position that makes the body of Christ look like a slide. Photographs inside a newsprint that was handed out at the door depict a model wearing them as high-heeled shoes.
Together, the pieces convert kurimanzutto into a cavern of strange desire. They titillate and tantalize and taunt, appearing always on the edge of their next mutation. Mostly, they embody the inner world of Sánchez-Kane, where fashion is free from the demands and constraints of an industry increasingly hostile toward experimentation.