Red is unmistakably about miscarriage. It's fearlessly direct. Adult shirts made of wood hang from a closet bar; lying on the floor below is a onesie, also made of wood, but stained horribly red. A row of nine baby bottles in bowls hangs on a wall with nipples facing outward. The third from left is red; the title is 9-3=0.
Abid's links between the traumatized female body and Pakistani nationalism suggest the embattlement over reproductive freedoms that exists most of the world over—the United States certainly not excepted. But the work is powerfully personal, too—and it's impossible not to notice that the same body that has plainly struggled to create children has no trouble with the labor involved in finely carved sculpture. Red is the color of prosperity and power in many cultures, but this overriding feeling is of failure and horror, the kind of bleeding that turns life to death. The show throbs.