When Our Structures and Systems No Longer Support Us
# The Art of Containment and Decay: Kay Kasparhauser’s *New Decay*
In the dimly lit basement space of Entrance Gallery on the Lower East Side, artist Kay Kasparhauser has crafted a peculiar and immersive environment. Her latest exhibition, *New Decay*, is a deeply personal and existential exploration of the fragility of containers—whether they be physical structures, human bodies, or conceptual boundaries.
While isopods and springtails move discreetly within her sculptural installations, the true focus of the exhibition is on the structural forms that hold and shelter these tiny creatures. Through a series of assembled materials such as foam, plaster, latex, and plexiglass, Kasparhauser constructs habitats that feel both protective and precarious, echoing concerns of bodily fragility, survival, and care.
## The Anxiety of Inadequate Containers
Kasparhauser’s artistic inquiry is rooted in what she describes as “the anxiety of inadequate containers”—a theme she has previously explored in her writing. As someone living with a chronic illness, the artist intimately understands issues of physical vulnerability, decay, and repair. Her social media presence reveals candid documentation of her hospital stays and medical treatments, shedding further light on the personal stakes of her work.
This perspective is embedded in the exhibition through structures that resemble makeshift shelters or medical enclosures. One installation, titled *Bonkio* (2025), consists of a foam tower with a built-in terrarium. Meanwhile, another work, *Every time I think I’m absolutely going to die I love you so much I love you so much*, utilizes an orange traffic barrier, filling its gaps with stagnant water and urban debris. These pieces serve as metaphors for the ways in which both living spaces and bodies attempt—but often fail—to adequately secure their occupants.
## Navigating Decay and Protection
Throughout *New Decay*, Kasparhauser highlights the limitations of protective structures. A vinyl strip door adds an extra layer of separation at the gallery entrance, suggesting that even the gallery space itself is a vulnerable ecosystem. The bricolage sculptures, riddled with apertures and textures, function as both human art objects and micro-habitats for insects.
Her chosen organisms—zebra isopods and springtails—are tiny yet resilient, thriving in decaying organic matter. Significantly, isopods are crustaceans rather than insects, meaning they rely on an exoskeleton for protection. This detail reinforces the artist’s broader commentary: all creatures, including humans, navigate internal and external vulnerabilities with structures that are never entirely foolproof.
## Artistic Resilience in Marginal Spaces
There is a poetic alignment between the themes of *New Decay* and the history of Entrance Gallery itself. The space, operated by gallerist Louis Shannon, started as an underground venue for music performance before evolving into a contemporary art gallery. Much like Kasparhauser’s isopods, creative communities often find ways to persist in overlooked, liminal spaces.
Similarly, *New Decay* speaks to the resilience required for survival in harsh conditions. The exhibition doesn’t promise security but rather acknowledges that existence—whether for animals, humans, or artistic subcultures—often unfolds in imperfect, temporary shelters.
## A New Perspective on Bio Art
Kasparhauser’s work departs from typical bio art conventions, which often present living organisms as the focal point. Instead, her emphasis is on the sculptural frameworks that support and enclose life, making a subtle yet profound argument: true care lies in understanding the limits of protection.
Across *New Decay*, decay is not merely a destructive force but also a process of transformation. The show suggests that our efforts to build security—whether physical, medical, or emotional—are always incomplete, but these inadequacies are part of what keeps life in motion.
*New Decay* runs at Entrance Gallery (48 Ludlow Street, Lower East Side) through March 15, offering visitors a haunting, thought-provoking immersion into the fragile structures that bind us all.