Matta-Clark’s first cuttings were in abandoned buildings in the Bronx. Photographs of them are on display at the exhibit, as is one of the small wall sections he removed. The openings in “Bronx Floor,” just large enough for a person to pass through, are located strategically but illogically in the centers of rooms and thresholds. Physically, they upset the language of the architecture and the utility of the building. Visually, they collapse different spaces onto one another to shape confused, sometimes surreal, perspectives of banal environments. The wall section on display in the gallery has the patina of classical statuary and the abstraction of minimalist art, but its familiar materials give it an emotional suggestiveness, so that it evokes deep-rooted notions about house, home, and property.
     In a series of simple, stunning black and white photographs from 1974 subtitled “Anarchitecture,” Matta-Clark highlights the uneasy presence of architectural and mechanical structures within the natural world. The series includes views of collapsing buildings, sailboats piled high by a storm, and a train slipping off its rails. There’s a palpable sense of failure in these pictures, of both modern structures and modern culture. There’s also the suggestion that Americans have interacted ruinously with the environment, spoiling what solace it might provide. Another Matta-Clark piece on display, “Fresh Air Cart” from 1972, is a rolling sidewalk cart that mockingly dispenses oxygen from canisters to city pedestrians.