This here futuristic advertisement is an LED curtain interspersed with images of jellyfish and nude men. It’s brought to you by artist and filmmaker Gary Indiana, who also happens to be one of my favorite art writers. Unlike biennials past, this one has far less of a focus on new and emerging artists.

These large retro paintings by Los Angeles’ Rebecca Morris gave a brief moment of reprieve from an often overhung show.  The abstract works resemble actual objects and places—landscapes, fabric patterning, tile grout—while simultaneously seeming to engage with no more than painting itself.

Chicago’s Joseph Grigley ended up creating a mini-exhibition of sorts, a common occurrence at this year’s Biennial. Grigley’s room compiles an archive of art critic Gregory Battcock’s notes and letters, and here we see Battcock’s only known painting in existence.

This is not how sculptures (or cymbals) are normally hung. Terry Adkins, an artist who was deeply influenced by music, presented this collection of cymbals protruding off the wall.

A disappointing body of work by Ken Okiishi, who has previously spun patterned umbrellas over screens and wall paper. Here, he’s brushed paint over some video monitors.

We predict that Bjarne Melgaard’s room of filth will be the Biennial’s standout. At the very least, it’s bound to generate some talk.  The room is an overly simplistic mash up of digital culture at its worst—loops of youtube videos picturing bears fighting, dogs eating each other, and snakes swallowing their prey. This, along with images of people being run over and bombing the shit out of each other. Then, of course, there’s this Skrillex pillow next to a masturbating real-girl doll.

Some hats on stilts by Ei Arawaka and Carissa Rodriguez.

Tony Greene passed away in 1990 from AIDS-related complications. Largely forgotten, artists Catherine Opie and Richard Hawkins organized an installation of his strange, small works that evoke everything from Victoriana to Kenneth Anger. My favorite is a fiery mouth (seen on the far right) enveloped in a cloud of paint.

Good: Lisa Anne Auerbach’s Riot Grrl-inspired sweaters. Bad: Having Whitney volunteers work for free while flipping through the pages of her book while wearing her sweaters. Those sweaters read “bigger” and “badder.”

A floor first defined by its use of buoyant color. Recommended for anyone afflicted by the seasonal affective disease.

Sterling Ruby made these oversized ashtrays. They certainly fit the colorful theme. [Author’s note: The author has chosen to remove the line referring to Ruby’s work as “ugly.” Much good art is ugly and the author has no negative connotations with the term.]

I like the surrealism going on here with Ricky Swallow’s four-pointed pitcher. Nice.

More nice. Some straightforward ceramics by Shio Kusaka. 

Ken Lum made a fake strip mall sign for fake Vietnamese businesses with names inspired by people and events associated with the Vietnam War. It’s unclear where this sign would be most effective: In a strip mall, where it would not resemble art at all, and therefore go unnoticed, or in a gallery, where it looks so much like art that it’s unremarkable.

In what’s possibly the worst space for art at the Biennial, Pedro Velez’s art critic posters were installed right outside the elevators on the lower level, away from the rest of the show. I like these, though; they look like inspirational, slightly hip-looking posters you’d see lining the walls of high school libraries and cafeterias. One particularly timely quote in light of the fairs comes from Walter Robinson: “We don’t have art movements any more, we have market movements.”