Henry Art Gallery University District
Wednesdays-Sundays. Continues through Jan. 15 2017
Recommended by Jen Graves
White Snow is a grouping of finely crafted black-walnut wood sculptures between 4 and 15 feet tall, arranged in a large open gallery at the bottom level of the museum like a knotty root system exposed to the air. His work is "a program of resistance," he says, and the sculptures are the unmissable middle fingers pointed at the whole unchecked patriarchal capitalist enterprise. But McCarthy has enough money today that he bought a thousand acres in California to build his own B-movie studio, to become his own anti-Disney. Though I'm mistrustful of Paul McCarthy: White Snow, Wood Sculptures at the Henry, I see that it's also an epic display that can't help but make an impression. I'm not telling you not to go. Each blown-up tchotchke distorts and perverts characters that originated in the Brothers Grimm fairy tale that Disney sanitized into its first full-length animated feature film, 1937's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Every once in a while as I looked, my mistrust dropped, and I felt real, familiar, female pain emanating off of those debased tangles, recognizing me. I longed for those moments, not to be distracted by so much belabored, white-cube transgressing.