nineteenth-century plat map of Washtenaw County, green books, an optical illusion, satin, Iranian poetry, wire bits vibrated into patterns by a speaker, printed wood, carved wood, and even you know, photography.
Amy Zhong's uncut sheet of $3 bills one of a number of works interpreting "green" as "cash" displays the words "three dollars" in a font you might see on a fashion designer's wedding invitation. The work seems to riff on the weird mishmash of eye-pyramids and other symbols sprinkling legit currency, with a poised, incongruous pastiche of a floating, empty triangle, a lush lily flower, a semicrescent, and arranged rocks.
Page Redford combines a large freehand painting of a $1 bill with a shelf of roly-poly clay critters hand painted with imagery from dollar bills and clutching twinkly little hearts and stars scissored from credit cards, and eight-pointed origami stars made from repro dollars. Set amid some green pipe cleaner trees, the creatures suggest the joy of spending money.
Joy also radiates from Rachel Throop's felted-wool wood nymph, who beams from a vertically rectangular green wool pouch. As her uplifted arms transform into branches, her long white hair ripples downward into a flutter of carmine leaves.