Two recent works are disarming because of their off-kilter resemblance to functional objects. An untitled masonry wall passes for a ready-made, thanks to the addition of an aluminum coat rack and two glass mirror balls. A 2016 construction brings to mind a gymnastics rig for extraterrestrials: two 30-foot aluminum poles rest across winged pommel horses behind what looks like a ruined fiberglass trampoline.
Through Sept. 3. Hauser & Wirth, 901 East Third Street; 213-943-1620, hauserwirthlosangeles.com.
Even a quick leapfrog across the career of Takesada Matsutani, who was born in Osaka, Japan, and is now based in Paris, reveals tremendous formal variation. From his Gutai period, “A Visual Point-A” (1965), a three-dimensional, vinyl glue form built onto a golden yellow canvas, contains a disturbing horizontal slit that is simultaneously a toothless mouth, a sexual eclipse and an empty eye socket. “Nagare-8,” from 1983, is a 32-foot-long paper banner in which two intense graphite stripes frame a row of turpentine-aided swooshes and drips.
The constant is an almost endlessly fruitful tension between the abstract appeal of a colored plane and the inevitably concrete materiality of its execution. In a few hard-edge acrylic abstractions from 1971 and ’72, it’s a question of color choice — graphic shapes in blues, oranges and reds that harmonize more than they contrast make it hard to distinguish where any surface stops or starts. In the graphite-only pieces he began making just a few years later, it’s a product of the elfish fickleness of the medium itself: A shimmering, silvery column, in “Stream black and white,” records each stroke of the artist’s hand — but only from certain angles.
Through Sept. 16. Baert Gallery, 2441 Hunter Street; 213-537-0737, baertgallery.com.
The very best internet art I’ve seen recently is Ludovica Gioscia’s new group of analog objects at the year-old Baert Gallery. Ms. Gioscia captures the amorphous fungibility of the digital world not just by breaking down and reworking pieces from her previous shows — the spray-painted, laser-cut letters of “Pan” (2010) now cast a “shadow” of miscellaneous objects, many of them painted a dark eye-shadow blue — but also by arranging the new pieces so as to almost suggest that they constitute a single installation.
Eleven “portals,” squiggly vertical flags made with multicolored metallic fabric, hang at different heights in groups of two or three. Apple logos and images of Rolexes, meanwhile, which repeat throughout the ripped posters; flat, iconic wall sculptures; and other works, borrow the real-world value of luxury goods as a reminder that fungible doesn’t mean unreal.