Surprise of the year: A bronze figure reclining on a marshy glade, the sculpture's head a swarm of live bees; a pair of dogs, one with a leg dyed pink,
gamboling through the undergrowth; an uprooted Joseph Beuys oak, the ghost of Robert Smithson and a garden of psychotropic plants were all part of French artist Pierre Huyghe's haunting and unforgettable contribution.
Midway
through Noah Baumbach's latest (his first film since Kicking and Screaming to not seem actively ingratiating, and so, a departure), the titular Frances (co-writer Greta Gerwig) sprints
through a monochrome Manhattan, or Manhattan, en route to a new apartment,
gamboling and pirouetting freely to strains of Bowie's «Modern Love.»