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A section of Kiki Seror’s untitled wallpaper from 2008, at I-20
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by Charlie Finch

For a dozen years Kiki Seror has tried to preserve the static and chatter of sexual life in artistic amber. She began in a West Side warehouse crammed with communications equipment, where she monitored internet sexual chat rooms around the clock like a one-woman National Sexuality Agency. She then transformed snippets of sex talk into 3D textual arabesques framed in her signature light boxes: she had taken the banal signifiers of Joseph Kosuth and sex-rated them from a female perspective.