London-based artist Anthea Hamilton‘s installations are wild, kinetic mix of acid tripping and high school yearbook scrapbooking. Oh, and cassette tape mixing– the awesome ones from Junior year with “Summer Jamz” scribbled in Sharpie marker. Her installations, crafted of cardboard cutouts, screen prints, hanging costumes, wacky props, and chroma key paint, are tongue-in-cheek fun that pulsates with an early 80s disco energy and, however outrageous, is far from flippant: Hamilton’s absurdity is pointed. (Her leg chair, for example, features flexed legs of perspex… and a crotch made out of a rice cake.) Hamilton’s work, bold and confident, is a tangible cacophony of the constantly changing society we live in– the human race in flux– and refuses to identify itself sexually, culturally, morally, or otherwise. Her work, like our world, is in a state of constant re-invention.