"Selective Geometries" is Sarah Crowner's first artist's book. Made in an edition of 50, each book has a unique letterpress and silk-screened cover and is individually signed on the title page. The book brings together several elements, which present a window into Sarah's visual aesthetic and her artistic influences: collages of black and white research materials that inspire Crowner, such as photographs of work by artists Lygia Clark and Sonia Delaunay, pages from her sketchbook, scanned images of parts of her paintings, excerpts of texts by Vasily Kandinsky, and Gunta St?lzl, and essays by writers/curators Nick Herman and Todd Alden. Herman, a founder of Ante Projects, contributed and original text titled "Color Chart," and Alden's 2000 essay, "Small Observations on the Small Tasks of the Bricoleur," is reproduced along with the text quoted above. The book also features small "maquettes" of some of Sarah's paintings, which have been inserted into the back pages of the book, a style used in mid 20th century art books. In addition she has painted geometric shapes over some of the black and white research material, adding to the individual and the handmade quality of the book. "Small Observations on the Small Tasks of Sarah Crowner's Geometric Abstraction:" (excerpt by Todd Alden, pg. 37)"Sarah Crowner's oblique practice consists of unpacking, remembering, and transliterating clipped fragments from the archive of Modernist abstraction. Rather than simply re-imagining-or simply re-imaging-painterly abstraction according to the universal and timeless procedures of professional painting, Crowner turns instead to the small tasks of the bricoleur (or the bricoleuse), allowing her materials and methods to speak. Using scissors, fabric, thread and an industrial sewing machine, Crowner re-stitches fragments-or approximate fragments-of sometimes recognizable passages (Bridget Riley's stripes or Blinky Palermo's colorful tropes for example) into new conjunctions of materials and with hopes of new functions. Revealing what it remembers, but remembering what it forgets, Crowner's re-tooled rhetoric of abstraction is a throw of the dice, dreaming silently of the alphabet that dreams. And of more matter with less art.