The rawhide skin of a whole cow hangs from paracord rigging over the entrance to SculptureCenter. It sags in the middle, heavy with rainwater from the previous night that stains it with dark lines as a dingy residue settles to its bottom. Suspended beneath a cloudless blue sky, the dryer parts of the hide glow yellow and beige in the afternoon sun. Sourced in North Carolina, it arrived at SculptureCenter in January, and was left to age and react with the elements in the museum’s courtyard for a few months before being incorporated into Rindon Johnson’s 2021 work, For example, collect the water just to see it pool there above your head. Don’t be a Fucking Hero!. Standing directly beneath the installation, I weigh the possibility of the skin splitting, its contents bursting onto the pavement or perhaps a bystander like myself against its apparent ability to stretch and change, the way it softens into something pliant in response to the water it holds.

 

Water contained and lost is a unifying theme throughout Law of Large Numbers: Our Bodies, an exhibition of Johnson’s work which will be followed by a companion show, Law of Large Numbers: Our Selves, at Chisenhale Gallery, London, later this fall. Gathering materials that are aged, processed, transmuted, and repurposed, Johnson does not set his focus on fixed objects but in the way things evolve over time. Elaborately titled (the artist is also a poet and writer), the histories of what makes up each piece carry as much importance as their present-day forms.