Gasoline Alley

In an endlessly looping video, a driverless motorcycle bucks and roars like an enraged bull, its handlebars chained to the flaking concrete ceiling of an abandoned industrial loft. As the chains grow taut it clumsily pirouettes, the engine kicking into a deafening whine while the bike briefly becomes airborne before crashing down, the madly spinning rear wheel spitting out debris like shrapnel. In the gallery itself, the floor is covered with entwined skid marks—some scorched deep into the plywood—made when this Austrian artist snaked his Honda through the long, narrow space, occasionally stuttering up the walls to create ersatz wainscoting. Like Pollock, whose empathetic gestures are frozen in the graceful arcs of his drip paintings, Dobler has captured his own movements through time and space, eschewing paint in favor of jerry cans of fuel and a gas mask for protection from clouds of burning rubber.


Capsules: Stephen Shore
The subjects are banal: a toilet bowl filled with brown, clotted water; a Texas drugstore sign; three hippies at the Grand Canyon. Yet look closely at these early-'70s color photographs and discover a sly combo of content and composition: A cup and saucer sit on the toilet tank, a white-on-white juxtaposition of eating and excreting; the blue-on-orange Rexall sign advertises "S & M Drugs," oblivious to the cornucopia of vice it proffers; bearded youths wear tie-dye T-shirts that, blasted by Shore's flash, outshine the sunset. 303 Gallery, 525 W 22nd, 212-255-1121. Through July 7.

The wheel world
photo: Hubert Dobler/Jack the Pelican Presents
The wheel world

Details

Hubert Dobler
Jack The Pelican Presents
487 Driggs Avenue, Brooklyn
Through July 2

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