a bespoke ipod doesn't count as self-expression. and neither does a monogrammed tote, tory. take a real look inside, like marc swanson did with his latest show at bellwether gallery.

maybe you saw him in all his yeti glory at P.S.1 last summer. (oh right, the only time you made it to queens was via the L.I.E., precisely the pointo.) this go round, he comes to terms with self in ways you only dream about in downward dog. his work ranges from etched mirrors to glass arrows. but the tip of the trifecta is the installation in back: branches from his dad's new hampshire farm, wasps nests, liquor bottles, and a painted peacock looking on.

a trip into a mystical wood? (the subconscious.) and you don't need the deet.


marc swanson
at bellwether gallery
134 tenth avenue
between 18th and 19th
212.929.5959

www.bellwethergallery.com

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