Rudolf Stingel

By narrowing the doorway that leads into the sixth-floor gallery at 980 Madison Avenue and leaving the modest renovation’s interior structure exposed, Stingel unsettles viewers quietly from the outset. Inside, he has installed a vivid blue-and-orange-striped wall-to-wall carpet, transforming the ordinarily formal exhibition space into something more reminiscent of a basement recreation room. (Stingel first used carpet in an installation for Daniel Newburg Gallery, New York, in 1991, and has metamorphosed the surfaces of exhibition spaces in multiple locations since then.)

Ranged around the walls are three photorealistic paintings derived from photographs taken by Stingel with a 1970s vintage Polaroid instant camera. One panel depicts a single beer bottle, one the fixings for a martini, and one a full bar. The objects sit atop a paint-splattered studio table, suggesting that they may have provided creative stimulation. Evoking the still-life paintings of Giorgio Morandi in their affectless grouping of prosaic vessels, the images are reminiscent, too, of the Dutch and Flemish old masters’ meticulous attempts at everyday realism. The gaseous amber backdrop of each composition appears abstract but is in fact a fragment of an earlier canvas by Stingel depicting a sunset. The detail underscores the paintings’ reflexivity, adding an element of indirect self-portraiture that brings the whole undertaking full circle.

Playing in the gallery on a continuous loop is Smokin’ (1972). The successful fifth studio album by English rock band Humble Pie, it features songs including “30 Days in the Hole,” guitarist and singer Steve Marriott’s evocation of the aftermath of overindulgence in drink and drugs. A staple of Stingel’s youth, the record contributes to the installation’s wistful atmosphere, and to the feeling that it may have been—or may yet become—the scene of an apocalyptic bacchanal.