Jim Lambie's 2m high 'Petrichor (Green Finch)' (2018) at Franco Noero looks like three doors, each folded in and round on itself to form a tall box shape, making up a more complex and psychedlic portal, colour-coded for the progression of light over time. Then we come to the title: petrichor: 'a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies rain after a long period of warm, dry weather'.
Rana Begum's newest stream of work at Kate MacGarry is so recent it - the 'crumples', perhaps - hasn't yet picked a generic name. These are jesmonite versions of sheets of A4 paper screwed up, flattened to a degree, then spray painted from various angles - so linking them to Begum's well-known 'bars' (see Third Line's stand) in which the colour seen varies with the viewer's position.
Matthew Day Jackson’s 'August 6, 1945 (Hyde Park)', 2017, at Grimm is doubly dark: it’s part of a series which uses scorched wood and lead to imagine aerial views of the effects of a nuclear explosions in new places on the grounds, says Jackson, that ‘the use of a nuclear weapons doesn’t have a boundary. It brought a moral wound to the entire globe’. Here Hyde Park represents the possibility of it happening again, anywhere.
Song Dong's 'Usefulness of Uselessness - Varied Window No. 8' (2018) is at Pace. The title suggests that windows rendered useless by their buildings' demolition have been given a fresh use as art, courtesy of rearrangement and coloured mirror plastic inserts. Though you could argue that things as useful as windows have been turned into something useless - art.
Maria Farrar - born in the Philippines, raised in Japan - brings a calligraphic lightness to her organisation of elements on raw ground. Cakes often feature, though she's small enough to indicate that she prefers the painting to the eating, but the primary pleasure of 'Brioche con Gelato' (2018) at Mother's Tank Station may be how lightly the presence of a dog is invoked through tail and lead.
Ilya Kabakov: ‘The Rope of Life’1985/2018 at Gallery Continua spreads street detritus along a lifeline starting from the artist’s birth in 1933 to represent memories as if to suggest that whatever material items have been lost is of little consequence, as the connections can still be made through substitutes.
This charmingly overpainted photograph at Tina Kim Gallery (‘Self-Portrait’ 1967) is by Wook-Kyung Choi (1940-1985), who spent most of the 60s and 70s in America between Korean periods, as reflected in paintings of which – although normally abstract – are closer to de Kooning than Dansaehkwa, leading her to fade from the historical narrative.
Lenore Tawney (1907-2007) made textiles before they entered art's mainstream. 'Union of Water and Fire' 1974 could be a sex abstract: the red male fire and earth meets the white female air and water. Shown by Alison Jacques.
Excess all patterns... Kamel Mennour and Levy Gorvy's joint stand of Francois Morellet is a stand-out complete with 'trames' wallpaper. Maybe that's too much - trames to trauma - but it's interesting to see the envelope pushed.
Le Claire Kunst has Vilhelm Hammershøi's 'Barn near Vejle' 1896 at - a typical early small and gently luminous view of segmented fields and sky. Slight blurring adds to the immutable atmosphere which anticipates his better known period.
Joan Snyder at Franklin Parrasch Gallery integrates personal history into predominantly abstract paintings. ‘Love’s Pale Grapes’ 1979 apparently relates to an affair – towards the end of her marriage to photographer Larry Fink - with her therapist. That was always going to be charged territory: among the words scrawled lower left we can read “I love you, is it worth anything?” The plastic grapes bursting through in what could be a sensuously Keatsian* manner are incidentally typical of the plastic products (mostly toys), which her salesman father used to deal in.
* 'whose strenuous tongue / Can burst Joy’s grape' (Ode on Melancholy)