The protean work of Yves Tumor soars over categories. It is an invisible city with porous borders and a million overlapping plateaus. On last year’s breathtaking Safe in the Hands of Love, the Tennessee-raised shapeshifter weaves through a transcendent dimension in which the club, the basement noise show, and the bedroom studio share a single heart. It is a world of bliss and catastrophe, machines and animals, words and whatever exists beyond words. It is our world but it is not our world, a place where familiar forms morph and melt into unreal shapes, and you need only drop the compass and get lost.

by Chris Stamm