Victoria Miro Gallery, London N1
A young woman stands against the wall of a picturesquely dilapidated room. She is naked but holding up two torn sheets of patterned wallpaper that obscure her face and the lower part of her body. She could be merging, as she often seems to be doing, into the wall.
I think of the two madwomen in Charlotte Perkins Gilman's story "The Yellow Wallpaper": the figure conjured up by the feverish imaginings of the unreliable narrator and partially glimpsed at behind the intricate lattice pattern of the wallpaper, and the narrator herself, who eventually joins her there.
Like Perkins Gilman's disturbing, …