form, they are also pathetic. Her “No Names” are plagued with abnormalities and defects: a peg leg, an extralong arm, two faces, or an oversize head.

They are posed mid-lumber or slump, frozen in the gallery like slowly encroaching zombies (and there is indeed an attraction-repulsion impulse perpetuated by the paradox of their cute grotesqueness). Mythology, allegory, and fairy tale are bound to these monsters as tightly as the chunks of tacky sofa that O’Connor uses as limbs. But these desperate and beautiful bodies also bring to mind the dire need to reexamine, recycle, and recompose