the Suzanne Geiss Company
76 Grand Street, between Wooster and Greene Streets
SoHo
Through Dec. 22
Ryan Johnson has installed his newest sculptures in close quarters, so as to evoke the contents of a storage unit. Some of them sit on pedestals that look like packing crates. But throughout this clever show, strange spatial compressions, surreal displacements and quasi-Futurist illusions of movement make it clear that this is not your average locker full of mothballed sweaters, unwanted furniture and old athletic gear.
There are some bicycles, but they have flattened oval curlicues for wheels. A large blue rocking horse has multiple, skittering legs that make it look more like a painting by Giacomo Balla than like child’s toy. And a set of stiff, highbacked chairs features narrow, tilted seats, unusable by anyone with normal proportions.
That may not be an issue for the inhabitants of this curious space, figures with giant, zeppelinlike skulls and long chopstick legs. Two of these creatures are locked in an embrace; a third, titled “Perfectionist,” wears its head on its stomach and, in place of its head, has a tray of neatly stacked oranges.
It’s not immediately clear why Mr. Johnson has included small bronze maquettes of some of the large works, but they suggest nightmares of a “Nutcracker” for grown-ups: castoff objects from our former lives, ballooning and springing to life.
