But when do I get my own revenge? [LINK]
The Village Voice's R.C. Baker describes a showing by Orly Genger in Larissa Goldston's gallery through May 5:
A stew of chemical odors hits you as you enter this darkened gallery. Walking over uneven surfaces, you are surrounded by conical mounds of gnarled nylon rope that has been sprayed and rolled with black paint, a mélange of materials that accounts for the industrial smell. Genger crochets her thick coils into floor-covering mats and topographical heaps that convey a sense of lava flows, or maybe a tire dump. Yet there is something engaging about climbing over this writhing mass, as if it is dumbly alive; with the word "Boo" scrawled on one wall, it's hard not to think of those sci-fi golems that rise up from ecological disasters to avenge nature.