Outside of Louise Lawler’s audio of a parakeet reading off artists’ names, I am pretty sure I’ve never liked anything she has done. Even the parakeet piece didn’t work for me at Murray Guy. It wasn’t until I heard it in the garden at Dia Beacon, where I mistook it for actual bird sounds, for a good half an hour before I came to love it. So I am gonna put my enjoyment of this show on Liam Gillick, who is represented in nice bright crayola-colored door handles on the entrance to the gallery and text describing the closing of an auto factory hanging in sold metal letters from the ceiling. The text was vague, but occasionally touching, and seeing it in a gallery that sells high-end luxury goods to stockbrokers really does make you feel that the suffering of people in the real world is just a punch line to a joke among a class who will never worry about financial security. Lawler does have an attractive picture of an Edgar Degas bronze with a reflection from the display case in it and a witty picture of the light from a spotlight beam hitting a gallery wall that aren’t’ bad. But the two elongated pictures feel like the kind of luxury goods the gallery usually moves or possibly an unintentionally nice counterpoint to Gillick’s work.