agathe snow.

7:12 PM

Her sculptures of found objects reworked into exquisite tales of urban archaeology embody an apocalyptic joy that the rest of us are just getting hip to. Like last spring, when Snow was evicted from her downtown loft: She chopped and diced her furniture, put it into the back of a Los Angeles-bound U-Haul—her nomadic caravan of choice—and used it for a solo show in the adventuresome Peres Projects gallery. (Punk rock, sure, but the conventional art world is taking her seriously. Über-collector Charles Saatchi recently snapped up work, and she’s exhibited in group shows at Gagosian Gallery and, this summer, at the Parrish Art Museum in Southampton.)
Her sideshow, Chop Shop, which she runs along with Marianne Vitale, her sister, Anne Apparu, and a roving artist cast, including painter Rita Ackermann, brings the same resourceful joie de vivre to food. Chop Shop has busted out prep-knives at such no-frills locals as the Staten Island Ferry, the Beatrice Inn nightclub, and— most recently, a gypsy fest, complete with roasted pig served atop a cardboard box—the Park Avenue Armory, an off-site venue of the Whitney Biennial.

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