Leah Piepgras’ explorations of the body are visceral and arresting. With her larger-than-life works on luminous, gilded Tyvek, Piepgras traces the forms of internal organs outlined in dripping layers of white, turquoise, purple, deep and bright blues, and maroon paint that suggests blood. Lungs, intestines, ovaries, and other organs are framed by outstretched hands and feet—bodies fragmented, bodies laid open. For Piepgras, the human form, especially her own, is a frequent source of inspiration, yet Body Mandala, a new wall installation created this year, offers a closer and more intimate look at the body than her previous works. White plastercast body parts hang from 49 brass chains, suspended in a series of concentric circles. On the outermost rim hang toes of varying sizes, followed by fingers, eyes closed with feathery eyelashes, ears, noses, mouths with lips parted, revealing teeth, erect nipples, and, with increasing intimacy, anus, labia, and a navel at the center. The overall effect of the abstracted anatomy is more than the sum of its parts; it is a mapping of the self. The work is minimal, personal, masterful. Standing before it, I’m in awe.