This piece, at once punchy and melancholic, is only part of Hovnavian’s investigation into artificiality. In NY Lights, something that at first looks like a mirror turns out to be much more. When viewers approach it, motion sensors illuminate an interior display that features tiny vials of Botox. Each vial sprouts a waxy white flower, a symbol of the strange world of cosmetic enhancement. Mirror, mirror indeed.

Best of all, though, is Cafe, an installation/performance piece that evokes a down-home Texas café. Step into the installation and a smiling waitress greets you, offering food. But things are not what they seem. The lemonade is a chemical-tasting powder; the pecan pie arrives as a cube of gelatin saturated with artificial flavors. Digital grass waves in a video “window” beyond. “Would yah care for some more pah?” asks the waitress, whose name tag says @CafeWaitress (tweets will be answered). The most authentic object in the room is a mud pie, which sits on the counter as a reminder of simple, lost pleasures.

All of this is, of course, timely and provocative. In her previous work, Hovnavian focused on the relentless tyranny of the beauty and diet industries, and the pressure on women to maintain a perfect facade. The work was clever and stylish, but it traversed ground that has been fairly well-trodden since the 1970s by artists like Judy Chicago, Barbara Kruger and others. The new work is more ambitious, and it feels fresh and exciting. It’s rare to find an artist who can distill cultural flashpoints into potent visual metaphors without being flashy or trite.