At the center of the exhibition space, there is a black table, strewn with pages and with objects, mostly small, tiny things, on cardboard, on paper. There are some wood scraps, some small bursts of pigment—rust red, sky blue, green, mustard—but the variegated brown of torn, weathered cardboard dominates, covered in more black, in puddles of ink. The cardboard pieces amount to what the art world would call “ephemera,” gathered from the workplace of the artist. They date, mostly, from the 1980s, the 1990s. They share the table with some randomly distributed white pages, as if from a book—a work ...