Last year sometime we went to London. And while we were there we went to the Tate and saw the Turner Prize 2004 exhibition. The winner was, surprisingly to us, Yinka Shonibare. Born in London and raised in Nigeria, Shonibare‘s work (sculptures, films that he calls sculptures, etc) uses batik cloth and colonial references to discuss and consider and ponder personal and political histories, conflation thereof. The Swing (after Fragonard) was cool, but the big one, Un Ballo de Maschera, a film depicting the murder of King Gustav III of Sweden in all sorts of danc-y fantastic-ness was so godawfully boring that even though it was supposed to fall under the rubric of High Art we had to turn to the cafe. Still, this is not to chug haterade, merely to sip. A new show, Mobility, is opening this weekend at the James Cohan Gallery in Chelsea, and maybe, just maybe, it’ll be better. We’ll be checking it out at least, if only for the Flavorpill description. “Employing a refined visual wit, Shonibare fractures cultural identity though a prism of non-didactic and nuanced observation.” We the most love non-didacticity and our observation is about as nuanced as a kick in the [redacted] so it might be a healthier and/or more educational option than our last weekend. Either way, don’t just trust our addled post-criticality. Try on your own.