The marks left behind by humanity and the blurring of individuality are the focuses of Alí Gonzálezs new exhibit "El rostro, lugar de nadie." The title means, roughly, "The face is no one's place." Several series make up this show, including fist prints mounted like butterfly studies and a set of glass shelves, each one of which holds the outline of a hand. But the theme is articulated most dramatically with the Cabezas Tejidas, or woven heads. Though the works are images of people, the grid of black dots on a stark white background calls to mind grainy, vague, old photographs, and the overlays of wire fencing look prisonlike. Squint though you will, you still won't get a clear picture of whose portrait you might be looking at. We do recommend squinting, though, since doing so seems to reveal a different if no less vague face. Each different, each sad, the Cabezas call to mind Impressionism as well as particulate-obsessed moderns like Chuck Close and Vik Muniz.
"El rostro" shows with Pedro Terán's "Dibujos de Agua."